Monday

Please Don't Go



Please don't go
Please don't go
Don't you know that I love you so
Say you're mine
And give me tonight
Let's stay together.

Please don't go
Please don't go
You're the only angel I know
You were sent from heaven above
To love me forever.

Don't go
Don't go
If you leave me
You'll let a good thing fall apart
If you deceive me
You'll leave a pain inside my heart
I really need you
Just like the air I need to breathe
I'll stand beside you
I'll never leave.

Don't go
Don't go
If you leave me
You're gonna spoil a dream we share
If you leave me
I'm gonna miss the way you cared
I will try harder
I'll make you fall in love again
And I'll be faithful
Until the end.

Please don't go
Please don't go
You're the only angel I know
You were sent from heaven above
To love me forever.
 
Don't go
Don't go
If you leave me
I'm gonna search the world for you
If you leave me
Sweet memories will shine on through
I'll always love you
No matter what you do or say
Cause when I touch you
Light touches the day.

Please don't go
Please don't go
I don't wanna be all alone
Say you're mine
And give me tonight
Let's stay together.

Please don't go
Please don't go
You're the only angel I know
You were sent from heaven above
To love me forever
Don't go
Don't go.
 



Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

Sunday

Writing to ME is...

This post has been selected amongst the Blogadda’s WOW posts of the week.
 
 


“Delhi-Lucknow express 12004 is about to reach on platform no. 2” The announcement was being made again and again. Mehak and Raj reassembled their luggage. They had been waiting from past half an hour. And this half hour became the most memorable hour of their life. It was exactly one year before they had met here. While waiting for the train, they dwelled upon their silly stupid chats which had tied them in a wonderful bond.

“You remember I was caught by this T.T.”, Mehak said pointing towards a middle-age man with a potbelly who was going through a list in his hand.

“Oh! Yes. I should go to him”, Raj said.

“Why??”, Mehak enquired.

“To thank him for making me meet a silly stupid girl”, Raj winked.

Both of them giggled.

“It seems it was destined. My ticket got pickpocket. Your friend cancelled his journey at the last moment. And you travelled alone with a two-passenger ticket all the way just to rescue me at this junction”, Mehak put their first meet in brevity.

Raj relaxed on the bench and a sneaky smile crept on his lips.

He said,” Yeah! Out of tens of other passengers, I became just your saviour”.

“Silly effect”,Mehak chirruped.

“Silly girl”, Raj ticked her head.

FLASHBACK

Mehak thanked Raj for helping her and saving her bucks. Raj thanked his friend for cancelling the trip. Formal thanks-giving  entailed till they came out of the junction. Before leaving Raj put his hand forward and said,” Hii, I’m Raj. Naam to suna hi hoga”.

Mehak shook hand and said,” Hii I’m not Simran!”.

Haha, I like it.

What??

That you are not Simran!.

So???

So, there is going to be a twist in the story.

You seem to be a die-hard bollywood fan.

Yes! Masala and romance tadka.

“All Crap. Taxiiiiii”, She waved her hand and bid him a good-bye.

A crap bye!!! Raj was a little sad at her parting words.

“But why should I bother about her. She is just an another girl”, Raj murmured.

He tried to convince himself but the silly girl had abducted his wits. As soon as he reached his hostel, he opened his laptop, connected to the internet and searched for her. But how to search?? She was NOT SIMRAN. Who was she??? Where to search for her in Delhi??? Disheartened Raj gave all his hopes. Days  passed.

One day Raj went to a Publishing house to get his college magazine published. He was the head of the editorial team. The man at the office guided him to a room.

“May I come in”, Raj knocked on the door.

“ Yes, please” ,came the voice.

“Whoa!!! Bollywood Baba!!! What a pleasant surprise! What brought you here?” This was Mehak asking the flabbergasted Raj.

Raj couldn’t believe his eyes. He got back to his senses and stammered, “ H-a-a-e-e- Hiii! I’m stalking you”.

Oh!! Really!.

So how is everything  Miss Not Simran???

Haha, I’m Mehak. I do the work of proof-reading here.

That’s great. Now read these 100 odd pages and kick out the errors.

Ahh!!! I don’t like this. I just hate these words but still slogging myself.
 

Raj was happy to find her. Now he knew the name of silly girl.

Facebook-Search-Mehak-Send friend request.

Friend request accepted.

And then started the chatting season. They sunk themselves in talks and talks from nowhere and everywhere.

Meanwhile Raj wrote his first novel and went to her for proof-reading.

As Mehak read through the pages, she felt herself bosomed in someone’s strong words.

Yes! Raj didn’t write a love letter, instead an entire novel for the silly stupid girl he had fallen in love with.
 

FLASHBACK OVER-TIME IS SPEEDING NOW

The horn grew louder and louder as the train approached. Raj cried at the loudest of his pitch,
” I’ll be waiting for your reviews on my novel”.

Mehak and Raj hadn’t admitted it to each other till now. They behaved like just-friends but something more was being cooked up on both the sides. Both were enjoying this unavowed romance.

Both left for their home.

It was Diwali. Mehak called up Raj to wish him.

“Huulo”, a heavy voice spoke from the other side.

“May I speak to Raj please”,Mehak asked.

“Beta! He went missing since past five days. DO you know where he is??”, the voice asked in plea.

Mehak couldn’t believe her ears. She ransacked all their mutual contacts, Raj’s college, his whereabouts but no ray of hope kindled.

Each day she read his script where he confessed his love. Today Raj is still missing. Mehak added a few more chapters and completed their love novel.

As soon as the novel hit the book stores, it came out to be a best-seller. The media persons approached Mehak asking  about how the idea came to your mind? Are you a professional writer?? And a lot more questions queued up.

Mehak answered in a very simple manner.
"I’m no professional writer.
I never liked these silly stupid words.
I never understood the feelings attached with them.
But a silly stupid boy made me feel these words.
He left behind his legacy in his words.
He made me write all what I feel.
And today writing to me is my first love."
 
Mehak confessed their love in public and wished Raj would soon appear with another of his novel for proof-reading.
 
Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Saturday

मशरूफ यार

 
वो मस्ती भरे पल
वो दोस्ती वो यारी
आज भी खामोश वीरान
जिंदगी में खुशी के फूल
खिला जाती है |
 
कल तक  'हमेशा  साथ रहेंगे '
की कसमें  खाते थे
आज 'फिर मिलेंगे 'का झूठा वादा 
दोहराते  है |


ऑफिस  की दीवार पर 
टंगी  ये घड़ी  आज भी
खीच  ले जाती  है मुझे
अतीत की गहराईयों में |


जहाँ क्लास  ख़तम  होने   का
रहता  था  बेसब्री  से  इन्तेजार
लॉन में सजी महफ़िल में

गपशप  की अटेंडेंस लगानी होती थी|

पर आज कोई जल्दी नहीं है 
नहीं हे जल्दी रूम पर जल्दी पहुचने की
नहीं हे कोई दोस्त इन्तेजार में खड़ा
नहीं हो रहा हे लेट नेक्स्ट शो  के लिए|

वक़्त ही वक़्त है
बस काटने के लिए कोई
नटखट वजह नहीं है|


तब  एक  मिस्ड  कॉल भी
काफी था अपनी लोकेशन
बताने के लिए
पर आज एस.टी.डी की लम्बी बात 

 के बाद भी नहीं लगता वो फ़साना |

दूर निकल गए सब यार
प्रमोशन के पीछे भागते -भागते
आज नहीं छेड़ता  कोई 'तेरी भाभी है'
कहकर हँसी  के गुलगुले |


वक़्त कहा  है यार
इतनी  मीटिंग  इतने प्रोजेक्ट्स
बस हर बार का यही बहाना |


आज भी तरस जाती है ये आंखे
उन शैतान आँखों के इशारे समझने के लिए
लेकिन वो आंखे मशगुल है
प्रेजेंटेशन बनाने मे |


कभी इसी  चौराहे पर
सब साथ खड़े होकर
लड़ते थे किस रस्ते का आज रुख करेंगे
आज वही चौराहा सुनसान
पड़ा है हमारी अठखेलियों की खोई आवाज मे |


'मेरी दोस्ती  मेरा प्यार' के बोल
बन गए थे कभी जीने  का मकसद 
आज वही बोल  बेगाने  लगते  है |


तुम कितने मशरूफ हो गए
अपनी हाई-फाई  लाइफस्टाइल मे
की शर्म आती है तुम्हे आज
ऐसे मिडिल क्लास के दोस्त होने पे |


धुंधली यादों के टोकरे मे
आज भी तुम्हारा झुनझुना
बहुत सँभाल कर रखा हें मेने
कभी दिल करे बच्चा बनकर फिर से खेलने का
तो बेख़ौफ़ चले आना मेरे गलियारे में
ले चलेंगे तुम्हे वापिस तुम्हारे इनोसेंट गोल्डन ऐरा में |



Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

Housing the Gene of Happiness

             "I'm born happy. No one can snatch away this indigenous gift from me."
Say these words aloud again and again and each time you say associate yourself more and more with the eternal feeling of happiness and realize that Yes!! you are authorized to live happy just like all other happy fellas.
 
Well!!! it's easy to say but hard to do. But then nothing exists on this earth which is beyond your potential. Just as you breathe sometimes deliberately while often unintentionally. The same way start taking a daily dose of Happiness and house it in the deepest of you. So that you can transfer it to your next generations too. Develop a happy gene, treasure it and pass it to your generation. You will be eventually called as HAPPY PEOPLE, the most sought after tag which most of the people take years, sometimes even the whole of their life to earn. Some are titled Happy while some die Unhappy.
 
You must have seen people who are happy always irrespective of the circumstances. Damn! the only thing which makes you feel up and down. They dont bother about situations- whether they are endowed with prosperity or poverty, whether they are materially successful or not, whether they have a family or not, whether they are being loved or not, whether they are healthy or ailing. They just know that they are born happy.
 
These iffy circumstances just cant take them off from their Happy path. Have you ever given a thought ? What is the secret to their Happiness??
 
Everyone chases happiness in some forms- some see happiness in money, some find it in attaining their goal, some find it in satisfying the family needs, some feel it in their better halves.
Stop chasing happiness. Rather carry this Happy gene within you and let Happiness chase you.

 
I'm no sage to preach you fellas. You all are more insightful than me. But sometimes we get carried away by damn! circumstances and we forget that we are born happy. Here's a little of my ponder-pool which I realized and now I can say I'm dominated by Happy gene. ( May be someday I too get suppressed by the nasty unhappy gene but I'm pretty sure I'll turn back a few pages and kick out the unhappy gene.)

Here goes my two cents.

Each one of us ride the MOOD-swing. Sometimes too high in the air of exuberance and sometimes too low in the dust of melancholy. Dear! hold this swing and enjoy smoothly. Don't let it run butterflies in your stomach. Ride gracefully, dominate this MOOD-swing and you decide where you have to take the swing. Don't allow the swing to take you wherever it wishes. Once you get hold of the Mood-swing, nothing in this world can drive you unhappy.

 Now there must be a question arising HOW?? So here comes the answer.

 Stop attaching yourself personally with everything going around you. Don't take it as, ' why life ditches me everytime?' Oh! cummon! Open your eyes dear! There was someone who faced the same problem before you. There was someone who lost the job, there was someone who was dumped by his love, there was someone who was slapped by his manager, there was someone who was assaulted by the in-laws, there was someone who flunked the exam, there was someone who was denied the business deal, there was someone who was wronged, there was someone who was looted, there was someone who met an accident, there was someone who lost his parents, there was someone who suffered the lethal disease. ( I had already mentioned here how people get carried away by unhappy gene for some trivial issues.)
 
You are not Adam or Eve, the first-born on this earth left to face all the troubles. Billions, trillions have lived before you, faced the challenges before you and emerged as winners before you. You are facing nothing new. It's often a relief to know someone who is caught up in the same situation as we are in. So take a deep breath dear! Everyone is offered his share of problems and so are you. You have to deal with them either with smile on your lips or tears in your eyes. When it is destined you have to pass through the agony- trench then why not to walk happily?? Choice is yours my dear!!!

 Nothing on this earth is permanent. So stop brooding over your current Unhappy status. It is sure the coin will flip, the spring will come , the birds will chirrup, and you will win. So enjoy the life at every stage. Your failures will not be accounted if you welcome them with a smile. House the sporty spirit in your soul. Play with each of the problem and I'm sure you will court the ball. Let the circumstances hit you, hit you hard. But you dont kneel. Keep moving, keep going and the nasty circumstance will succumb.
 
Trust me fellas! You are born to win!!! You are born happy!!! You are precious my dear!!!!

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

Pappu Can Love , YaaYaa!!!


Who says Pappu can't love saala??
Our Pappu can love yaara!!!
YYY

Pappu got admission in college. Yes!! Pappu pass ho gaya  in the pre-engineering test. He stepped out of his Pappu-land to embark on his new journey. New place, new faces, new chicks (:P), new books (:D) Pappu was all ready to attend his very first class in this new college.

First Year

New sun, New day.
First class.

Came in the professor. A tall man with big eyes and no books in hands.
"Perhaps professors here are more intelligent or have rather ate all of the books all these years",thought Pappu.

The man ran his eyes through the class. Among all, our  Pappu stood different. Pants lingering above the socks, white socks peeping out of the black shoes and pants covered with an oversized tee shirt. This was our outstanding Pappu.

"Yes! Boss!!!", called the prof. pointing at Pappu.
"I forgot my book in my cabin. Get it", ordered the prof.
"He is not intelligent", sighed Pappu, "What will he teach me now? ".

He rushed through the corridor to get the book." I should get back to the class before the prof. pours out his gyaan", worried Pappu took long fast steps.

He knocked at the door saying Prof. Ranga Nath.

"Yesss ! Come in", came the voice.

Pappu stepped inside and turned stone.

A beautiful Lady was hassling with the computer. ( Yes! this is a desktop. No laptop. No tablet. It's long-ago Pappu time. )

Her black long tresses cascaded down her waist. Wearing a pink checkered shirt over a frilled white skirt, she seemed one of the Jaismine, Oh! Daisy, Oh! Snow white. Yes! she seemed one of the fairy Pappu studied in his bed-time stories. He glued his gaze on the debonair beauty until she raised her eyes to check Who is in?

"Yes! what do you want?", asked the Snow White.
"YOU", how hard Pappu wanted to say this but Alas!
"Book", came out from his chord pushing aside the yearning "YOU".
"Oh!! Dad forgot it again. Here it is.", as she said , all the bells stopped ringing, the gentle zephyr got freezed and Pappu got a jerk.
"Dad?? She is prof's daughter", mumbled Pappu.

Shattered Pappu lifted the book (seemed like carrying 14.2 kg cylinder), dragged his feet and with a heavy heart reached the door.

"Hey! wait", called Miss Daisy, Oh! sorry Snow White from behind.

Pappu got filled with joy and happiness. The broken heart got fixed again. The drooped shoulders went straight and turned behind the Hunk- Pappu.

"Do you know how the internet works?",asked the lady. ( Internet was a newly introduced chapter then.)
"Yes! I do", bragged Pappu grinning his teeth.
"Actually I need to send my report", she said.
"Medical report??", thought Pappu. ( See how fast his brain runs.)
"Which Report", he asked.
"Indian history to my prof. sitting in Delhi", she answered.
Breathed Pappu in relief, "Oh!! history student."
"Yes! I'm here for a few days and using dad's free internet to the best"', she winked.

Yes! Snow white winked, Pappu blushed. Looked down and stared at his shoes.
The laces looped like eight. ( Nerdy brain!)

He gathered courage and looked straight, "But you don't know internet, right?".
"But you know, right?", she cheekily said.

Pappu was filled with confidence for she reposed in him.

"Yes! I do", said he adjusting his spects on his nose.
"Can my technical skills get me a sweet heart?", questioned Pappu to his heart.
"Go on Paeepee", called his heart.

Double click, pop-up, click, typing, click, attaching, click, SEND.

"Here you go", said Pappu.
"So simple it is.", she said.
"Yes it is.", smiled Pappu.
"But I hate computers. So am poor at it.", blurted Snow white.

Stonned was Pappu. Bleeding red. He was going to be a Computer Engineer after all. The heart broke down to pieces. No Fevicol could bring the pieces together this time.

"Keep trying. You will learn it", were Pappu's parting words. An intellect bye. ( you see)

Day and night Pappu slogged in. Shattered Pappu had only books to lean on. After all Computer Science was his first love.
Will this love envy his second love??? Pappu often regretted for being a CS engineer.

Days went on. Nights passed with both the loves lingering in his mind.

The Snow white popped in the scene again in her vacation. She joined the ' Ringa Ringa computer classes'. And so do Pappu to make both the loves shake hands.

She bloomed more and more with each passing class. Pappu sat behind gazing her ripple flairs.

Usual chit-chats, hello, hii, whats up commenced in the class. Pappu drove close to her in the problem class. Solving her questions, clearing her doubts, Pappu honed the computers everytime.

The first year ended this how.

Second Year

Came the second year and Pappu buttered the prof. with his scores. ( See! you have to impress the father-in-law first). But Snow white was lost somewhere. Pappu searched for her on internet but alas!she hated the net. No profile.No contact. Passed yet another year.

Third Year

The third year striked and snow white appeared. Yet another vacations. This year she looked more enchanting than ever. Pappu felt timid to approach her. Just watched her steps which stopped at 'Ringa Ringa computers' again.

"This one month course is for internet learning", said she when Pappu asked her what brought her here again.
"Hmm..The previous Basic course went fine. So internet this time", retorted Pappu.

Pappu didn't enroll for the classes. Why would he?? Afterall he was the master of internet. He joined previously just for her. But this time he waited for her outside the class.

It was her birthday. (Lucky Pappu! Her b'day fell in vacation.)
Sad was she. For no friends in hometown. All college buddies were busy in their own town.

Pappu took this chance and asked her for ' Ponga Pool Restro'. She agreed and they went for celebration. Pappu was nervous. First time he was going on an avowed date. He was sweating. He was shaking. But still accompanying her.

The cake and candles, clapping and wishes was all they did in the first phase. Came the second phase when Pappu yearned to put his heart before her. A night before he had prepared all the dialogues he would say to her in his confession. But heck! he couldn't remember any of them now.

He initiated,"It is good you are learning computers".
"Yes! Pacing with the technology is good", she said.

A little blah-blah.

But all this while Pappu's heart was beating in his ears. He was sweating. He was shaking.

"Thank-you for helping me", Snow white said.
"Oh!! my pleasure everytime". Pappu was still preparing the words to push out of his chord but what came out was, " My CPU usage goes 100% when I'm with you".

"Haha",she chuckled.
Pappu shocked.

"Yes! Yes! you will keep scoring 100%. I'm with you.", she smiled.

Oh!! Poor Pappu was mistook. The history student didn't know what CPU usage is? She took it as some subject or something as nuts and bolts.
Pappu's broken heart broke down into double the pieces.

Fourth Year

Pappu was still hoping of tying his love ends. Waiting for Snow white's vacation made Pappu drool around.
This time it was Pappu's birthday. Pappu is damn lucky boy!!!
She asked him to go back to 'Ponga Pool Restro'.
Again a cake and candles, wishes and celebrations formed the first phase. Came the second phase and Pappu wretched again.

"Hey! What is your CPU score?", she initiated.
He gathered courage and said, "75%".
"What? this low?", she was dismayed.
"Yes! you are not with me", drooped Pappu.

She placed her hand on Pappu's hand. Pappu was shocked and got rejuvenated with her soft touch. Electrifying moment for Pappu.

"What is the score now?", she asked.
"100%",Pappu exclaimed.
"Oh! why you took it so long Pappu ??"
He just stared and stared and winked at her. ( Oh!! Pappu- the hunk).

"I studied CPU usage this vacation and got hold of your brainy statements and hearty feelings".
"That's so sweet of you Snow white". (Yes! Pappu had been calling her all these years with this name only.)

"You know what is my nick name?"
Ah!! an out-of-the-blue question in a romantic scene.
"No", Pappu said blankly.
"They call me Kappu with love".

"Oh!! I love you Kappu", Pappu jumped from his couch, held her hand and bent down on his knees. This time he looked straight into her eyes and asked," Will you make my CPU usage 100% for lifetime??"

She nodded in yes. Kappu blushed and Pappu was floored.

Finally at the end of the engineering, Pappu tied both his loves (Computer and Snow white) in a knot called HEART. Happily ever after were Pappu and Kappu with 100% score on their CPU meter.

YYY                              YYY                                 YYY

P.S. Engineers are crazy.They see technical in everything around them. Well CPU usage shows CPU's capacity at any given time on multi-tasking environment. So 100% means full utilisation of CPU. Although 100% CPU usage should be avoided but as they say Everything is fair in love and war.
Pappu was damn lucky! you will say ,but you should also know looks and weight turn out to be mere numbers when you are in real love. That's why Snow white was hooked to the nerdy Pappu.
So a very  happy Valentine week to you all.
Feel the love, Live the love and Love the Love.
         
Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Thursday

Who is Sad Today???



The toy broke into pieces today.The baby is sad.
The teacher punished the child today. He is sad.
The father slapped his son. He is sad.
The boy was not allowed to bat. He is sad.
The mother cooked dal today. The children are sad.
The timetable got announced today. The student is sad.
The mobile is not ringing today. The girl is sad.
Dude missed the action thriller today. He is sad.
The new trendy lipstick is out of stock today. The woman is sad.
Piled up files to be finished today. The man is sad.
Maid didn't come today. The housewife is sad.
Internet is not working today. The guy is sad.
No customer today. The shopkeeper is sad.
No breaking news today. The reporter is sad.
No ice-cream to relish today. The girl is sad.
No drink today. The rummy is sad.
No new dress for party tonight. The diva is sad.
No bell tolls today. The priest is sad.
No deals today. The businessman is sad.
No win today. The gambler is sad.
Friends are not in reach today. The dame is sad.
The Saddy is happy today. The Happy is sad.

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

Wednesday

I'm a Girl


I'm a girl
It's my fault

Not allowed to walk
Not allowed to talk

Not permitted to laugh
Not permitted to dance

All in all live in four walls
All in all breathe in coals.

Did I asked to make me a girl?
Did I asked to break me whirl?

No offences
Yet punishments
All for me
Just for me
For I'm a girl.

No hanging out
No playing out
No disco
No movie
Cos I'm a girl.

They say I'm soft
They say I'm tender
I can get pricked
I can get hitched
For I'm a girl.

I can't speak my heart
Cos silence is my mark
I can't live free
Cos someone's eye is on me

Born slave
Lived in grave
Die in shame
Buried in flame

This is me
A girl
And that's my fault
Why I'm a girl???


Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ

Bare Truth


For men may come
And men may go
But I go on forever.

January 12, 2013

He laid down to sleep for a while and kept sleeping forever. The air turned moist with tears. Loud cries and wailing for the irrecoverable loss made me more and more deaf. Was it all real or was all just an ostentatious display of sorrow and grief??? Here goes my heart wrenching experience of how people lament over such a loss to feign themselves as wearing the shoes of sympathy.

Eerie silence persisted throughout the porch leading to the room where he laid still just still.
Men in white standing in groups discussing about the timeline of the dead.

M1- He was such a nice person. God calls for good people soon.
M2- He was in so much pain. May his soul rest in peace.

Women lamenting, shedding tears, showing compassion, kind gestures overall. Behind the veil went long gossips, tearing apart the crumbled pages of dead's story.

W1- He had earned enough to descend to his next generation.
W2- Ahha!!! Rich people are often killed by greed.
W1- But he suffered from cancer.
W2- Three years the lump was seized in the body. Had he spend a few bucks then he would be alive today.
W1- But the reports didn't traced the lump.
W2- Ohh.

On the couch sat his son weeping helplessly. Staring at the bed where he took his last breath tears deluged his eyes. I went near him but was so shocked that a lump chocked my throat to utter anything. I just rushed to the other room to get hold of myself.

In the next room, sat the now-widow lady wrapped in a thin shawl absorbed in the convulsive flood.
Some few sat beside her consoling her. Then barged her young sister into the room and dropped herself onto her saying " Now what will happen?? Who will call her in the morning?? Oh my sister, poor sister."
I wondered if a person taken aback by shock can utter such piercy words to worsen the wound more.
Why did she need to say such striking words? Can't she just soothe the widow with a warm hand???

I pulled away the younger sister to pacify the air. Took her to other room. She continued crying for another ten minutes at her full pitch. All other women were just pondering over the family's history.
A few more minutes passed in the eerie silence.
"Arey! you are here in the town?", asked the a-few-minutes-before-wailing lady.
I was silent the whole time until she asked me. "Yes, at home."

"You have completed engineering, right?", popped in another grieving lady.
"Ya"
"Which discipline? Which college?" came the questions in speed.
"Mumma, gather yourself. Let's go", I blatantly said turning back to the ladies.

Disgusting! they are here to take an account of my life. Dare not see me as some material to be cockeyed soon.

Came the time when the body was carried for cremation. All the present mourning masses made the last pranam to the heavenly soul and I came back home.

What if I die tomorrow? Will they cry for me? Will they console my family too? Will they ask my brother what stream he is going to opt? Will I too become a closed chapter? Will I too live in just memories of a few??

Bewildered with thoughts all around, I tried to get back to normalcy. However his face kept hanging before me until I closed my eyes.

THE NEXT DAY

All the family members have come by now. Seemed more of a get-together. In the temple after doing with the rituals, sat everyone in the hall. New faces were lingering and introduction round geared in.

"I'm your so and so. Do visit us. You will have quality time with this family", said almost everyone whosoever I went near to.
 How hard I wanted to escape such a moment but it trapped me.
The display of wealth and prosperity again seemed on a go. Exchange of clothes and gifts (yes gifts as a token of his remembrance) with a lavish lunch set the entire family soon into the mood of chatter.

Are they here to enjoy or to lament or just to mark their presence. I hated the way tradition keeps people going for such a ceremony. The person is dead. Yet food is being organised. Yet gifts are being distributed. Yet chatter are initiated.

I can't take it this way. I asked mumma," Why this way?"
"Long sought tradition".
"Or perhaps merry-making of liberation of one more soul".

I was totally traumatized.

How happily people were satiating their stomach when one person was less to eat. How? Why?
I was feeling giddy.

A Few Days Later

The grieving family is back to path. Usual routine. Cooking, eating, sleeping, shopping, business, everything back as if nothing had happened.
Sometimes they feel his absence when there is no one to cheer for team India, when there is no one to scold, when there is no one to ask for tea. But since it's life. Life goes on and on. People move ahead.

But I still feel stucked at Jan. 12. Haven't I moved on? Or I'm escaping the truth? Or I'm afraid of such an end in disguise?

P.S. This post is directly coming from the deep of my heart. I perhaps don't know whether it reveals my immature face or hides my sorrow. It's just I wrote in a flow. I personally don't intend to hurt anyone or their feelings or mock at our culture and tradition. But still at the back of my mind I don't like it this way. I can't take it this way.

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi

Tuesday

RIP- Book Review





About the book

Title: RIP
Author: Mukul Deva
Publisher: Westland Ltd
ISBN: 978-93-82618-19-5
No. of Pages: 286
Price : 200 INR
Genre: Fiction/Thriller

About the Author

Mukul Deva is an alumnus of LA Martiniere College, Lucknow,the National Defence Academy, Pune and the Indian Military Academy, Dehradun.He has authored eight more books.

Time After Time.. It All Happened (2000)
S.T.R.I.P.T.E.A.S.E : The Art of Corporate Warfare (2005)
M.O.D.E.L. : The Return of the Employee (2006)
Lashkar (2008)
Salim Must Die (2009)
Blowback (2010)
Tanzeem (2011)
The Dust Will Never Settle (2012)



Deva is called as "India's literary storm trooper" by the Business Standard. His book Lashkar is soon going to be a major motion picture. For more about him, visit his website www.mukuldeva.com


The Cover speaks

"You can smell the gunpowder. Such is the power of the words of Deva."
 
"Here comes India's Clancy or Ludlum or Forsyth."
 
"Vintage Deva.. Intense, engaging and dangerously addictive."
 
The appreciation of Deva's work by Giant Titans stir the readers to read his thriller fiction and transport themselves to a heart throbbing fable. The cover design shows a syringe and a bullet pointing towards each other. Well, these depict the civilian armament the K-team uses for its mission RIP.

Synopsis

R.I.P. The Resurgent Indian Patriots.
Self appointed guardians of a nation seething with anger at the endless scams and scandals rocking its very foundation. Vigilantes who vow to stop corrupt politicians and colluding civil servants. Even if it means killing them.

Colonel Krishna Athawale and his Special Forces officers rally to protect the country from the enemy within. They call themselves the K-Team. And no one is safe from their deadly intent.

Hellbent on stopping them is Raghav Bhagat, rogue para commando, gun for hire and Krishna's bete noir.

Caught in the cross-fire is Vinod Bedi, Special Director, CBI. Reena Bhagat, a glamorous news anchor, embittered by her husband's betrayal. And two young boys, Sachin and Azaan, torn apart by the loss of a parent.

Review

The book talks about the corruption, scams, corrupt judges, politicians and the arms dealer, social activist Hazarika, Sheila Kaul, the National Democratic Congress, Party President residing at 10 Janpath, Lalit Yadav , chief minister of Bihar and his brother-in-law Sheru Yadav and many more which can be easily co-related to the contemporary scenario.

As the author quotes-
This book was born out of an extreme sense of anger and shame. Anger at the appalling, naked greed so shamelessly displayed by the Indian political class. And the shame that they happen to be fellow-Indians.
This sets the mood of the reader to soak himself into the fiction.

The story starts with the commencement of Mission RIP by the K-team under Colonel Krishna Athawale. They plot the assassination of Sheru Yadav, right hand of the chief minister of Bihar.The civilian technology they adhere to in order to avoid the suspect is pretty interesting.
They carry out similar blows at Chennai and Pune simultaneously. Giving a major setback to the government, the RIP blows its cornet against the enemy within the gates. Asking the government to comply to its demands, the K-Team keeps making the headlines. Now begins the rough-and-tumble fight between the government and K-Team. Read through to find out Who wins? Does the K-Team succeeds in redefining the country outline? Or the government connives to bury the RIP?
 
The story also blows the love breeze between Colonel Athawale and news anchor Reena Bhagat. Both are married and have a son each but are left alone by the tides of time. Will they be able to confess their love and drive the children together, all four of them in the same car? The story ends with this love-note rather than a patriotic-note.
 
Teethered on the edge of reality, RIP will keep you turning pages late into the night.

In a Nutshell

The book will hook you right from the beginning and get you going through each and every plot the K-Team lives to. Since the current scenario is very much same as that described in the book, it will keep you engrossed and make you think if such a K-Team should really exist??? This book is indeed a must read thriller fiction. So go for it Buys !!!

My rating - 4/5

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This review is a part of the biggest Book Reviews Program. for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!

Sunday

Blueprint For Change

A nation comprises its citizens and every citizen contributes in the making of his nation. If we look around us, we will find the monstrous problems are taking birth in our home only. Inhibit them from breathing free and strangle these devils to make ourselves and our nation breathe free.

Time: 5:00 a.m.

"Sneha! wake up.", calls her mother," Water is about to come. Get ready with the pitcher -pot."
She groggily walks out of her bed. Eyes are still half -closed or say half- open. Sprinkles cold water on her face to shake off the clinged lethargy. Hustles through the morning chores- filling water, preparing morning tea, collecting news-paper, getting herself ready for the coaching classes.

Time: 5:45 a.m.

"Ok I'm leaving for classes. Bye!", says sneha pedaling the cycle to her way.
On the way...
Whistles.. Whistles..Whistles ... as she crosses the Thadi ( small tea-shop by the roadside). She seems to be deaf stone and makes fast on her way.
Aligning her cycle amidst the scooties and bikes, she runs for her class.

Time: 6:00 a.m.

"Today the Director will take the class and tell you about the admission process and various pinnacle institutes you should apply to as per your scores.", announced  the madam.

"You should work smart rather than hard to reserve your seat in the much coveted institutes. Everything depends on your D-day performance. Keep yourself cool and maximise your score. Also this year the tution fees has got a hike and is likely to crawl upwards in the next coming years also. So grab your seat now itself to avoid any financial hinderance.", the director was talking of some success stories and then ended up motivating the students to give their best.

But Sneha was left more of baffled.
"This time if 'm not gonna make through then 'm completely out of the scene. Moreover the hike has exacerbated our condition. Wasn't born General enough of a mistake???", bemoaned Sneha to her friend.

"Seriously yaar. This reservation and hike is gonna take toll on middle class", quipped her friend.
"Lucky you, a ST plus brainy-girl.", said Sneha.
"So are you, Miss Gen.", retorted her friend.

Lost in her future, Sneha made her way back to home.

Time: 7:00 a.m.

As she again passed by the Thadi, the whistles brought her back to the city. This time she wanted to
give a stern look but feared of being the next Nirbhaya ( Delhi rape 2012 victim). Ignoring the Roadside Romeos she pedalled fast to reach home.

"Wake up Raj", mother was calling from the kitchen.
Sneha walked in and found her brother still enjoying the warmth of quilt. She placed her frigid cold palms on his face. He shrieked and threw the pillow on her. She coldly walked out to help mother in preparing their lunch-boxes.

Grabbing her breakfast in one hand, turning the newspaper with other, she drank the milk ( a day-old milk) and handed the newspaper to father. She was also required to broom the floor to ease her mother's work. And she often did that without complaining. She found herself accustomed to this routine since years and now she had become a deft lady at all the chores.

Time: 7:30 a.m.

Raj was ready for the school and was blowing horn calling for Sneha.
"Today it's my turn", winked Sneha pointing to the scooty.
"Fine. Will give you at the turn else you will be scolded by papa", said Raj.
She rode pillion till the next crossover.
There Raj handed her the vehicle with the word of advice, " Stop in front of the Mishra stationery. From ther I'll take over. I don't wanna my friends mocking at me for being a pillion to you."

She nodded in agreement and rode her allotted path.

Time: 8:00 a.m.

"Today our school will be demonstrating against the government at Delhi gate seeking justice for the rape victim and asking for women safety", announced the principal.

"Wow!!! No classes for today. A piping hang-out", exclaimed her classmate.
"Ssshhh.", Sneha gestured.

The class assembled to make placards and nominate the leaders behind whom the students will march.

"So, everyone gear up. We are about to leave", announced the class-teacher.
"Sneha and Varun will lead XII-'C' and all of you should stay together. No here and there wanderings", instructed the teacher.

They all left for the school bus.
On the way a classmate poked Sneha," Stay together. Abide by the instructions."
She got her meaning and countered back," You better follow me."

At the India Gate there were several other schools demanding justice. The students dispersed under their leaders and began their shouting and clamouring.

"Look !they are so beautiful. Our school has got all of the trash. Poor we", accounted a boy to Varun.
"Are you here to dig your future??", asked Varun.
"Oh c'mmon, never lose an opportunity to hit right. Who knows she may be mine tomorrow", winked the boy.
" Shut-up. Put aside your eros atleast here", fumed Varun.
"Oh!! Chill man. I haven't raped her. You are seething for no reason", justified the boy.
"You better hold these placards or get back", warned Varun.


"Heck!! How dark she has slathered her eyes. Catch-Media eye -hungry girl", said Sneha's colleague.
"Are you here to take note of the fashion trends??", asked Sneha.
"She is here just to get the camera on her, I bet", said the girl.
"Disgusting", Sneha added her voice to the protest.

Time: 3:00 p.m.

The students had returned back to school and soon the bell rang.
"I'm waiting here for past five minutes", said Raj.
Sneha said nothing and sat on the back seat.
"So today you and Varun were the leaders. How went all?? ", asked Raj.
"Disgusting. People just show to be concerned with the tragedy when they are actually concerned with themselves more", said Sneha.
"Well, our class response was nice. And yes, we got eyes on some chicks too until Mr. Pandya packed up the scene",laughed Raj.
"It seems funny to you. You were there to see chicks. What makes you different from those rapists??", fumed Sneha.
"W**, you see me as a culprit", countered Raj.
"You need to be empathetic rather than sympathetic. Don't mess with me",Sneha blurted.

They had reached home.

"Take care of your Jhansi ki Rani", cried Raj to mother.
"What happened?", mother enquired.
"Your daughter was at India Gate today",said Raj.
"So was your son",came Sneha's reply.
"I have asked you guys not to go there. Situation is tense. Lathi-charge can bring you to bed", said their mother.

Sneha went to her room and wetted her pillow. She was pierced at the modern world outlook.

Raj left for his coaching on his scooty.

Time: 4:00 p.m.

"Mumma! I'm going to RTO office to get papa's licence renewed",said Sneha.
She reached the office and employed her form at one of the many shops in front of the office who promise to ease your work and get you the licence at the earliest.

Time: 5:00 p.m.

"Sneha! Beta get some vegetables. What will I cook today?", said her mother.
"I'm having a test tomorrow. Call up Raj to get some on his way back",said Sneha.
"Oh!! he won't get time. You study a little bit later",ordered her mother.
Sneha went to the grocery shop and bought some vegetables.


Time: 6:00 p.m.

"Hey!", tickled Raj. He was back from his class.
"Don't disturb. I'm studying", Sneha was irritated.

Time: 6:30 p.m.

Raj left for his yet another class. Gym class.

"Come up and help me", called the mother.
"Coming",Sneha closed her books and went to help mom in the dinner preparation.


Time: 9:00 p.m.

After the dinner and a little bit of T.V. everyone was back to their room.
Sneha signed into her Facebook account. Checked how many likes she got for her new profile pic.

Hush!! Only 75. Last one got over 100+ likes.
She changed her profile pic with bright colours this time.

Came Varun's like and a prompt comment, " Beautiful".

Then she updated her staus as " Shameful!!! Head hung low at India Gate. Stand up for a change."
Comments started pouring in.
Well done.
You too went for the protest??
Feeling pity for the nation.
Girls should be respected.
and a few more until she signed off .

PROBLEMS

1. Girls are still treated as a household creature .
Sneha was asked to do morning chores and evening too. And she never resisted.Raj was authorized to take scooty but Sneha wasn't.

2. Corruption
Sneha enrolls at the dealer-shop for licence renewal to ease her work. She is ready to pay but not to work.

3. Oral rape of our tradition.
W** uttered by Raj.

4. Costly education getting out of reach of the middle class.
Sneha is afraid of being left empty-handed at being a General and suspects if her family would let her go to the top institutes or she would have to satiate with an average institute.
Mind you- here brain doesn't matter. Only matters is your luck.

5. Self obsessed Creatures.
Everything seems to have shrunk to the virtual world of Facebook. When we are not aware of our neighbours but are interested more in the added friends.


 SOLUTION

'We'are the solution. Five problems, one solution.
Change yourself.
Awaken your soul.
Refresh your thought process.
Remove the mind blockages.
Welcome a whole new world.

Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
JJJ
This post is a part of Weekend contest at BlogAdda.com in association with Chanakya's New Manifesto

SOMETIMES

Sometimes it's good to go mad
For you get time to run wild.

Sometimes it's good to look ugly
For you get to know how pretty you are.

Sometimes it's good to score low
For you know you can soar high.

Sometimes it's good to fight
For you get to know how much to adore.

Sometimes it's good being imperfect
For you know only HE is perfect.

Sometimes it's good to cry
For you know laugh is for tomorrow.

Sometimes it's good being alone
For you get to know who you behold.

Sometimes it's good to shout
For you let the silence break through.

Sometimes it's good to stop by roadside
For you get to know the misery of vagabonds.

Sometimes it's good to fall in love
For you get to feel your heart.

Sometimes it's good to fail
For you get to know your lack.

Sometimes it's good to break free
For you get to know your real self.

Sometimes it's good to write crap
For your reader's brain get a break.

Sometimes it's good to live
For you get to know you were just existing till now.


Hioy'oy Hoi Polloi
   JJJ