Night had fallen, the sky was clear and a crescent moon shone and the stars twinkled. Radha ran to the window, her eyes searched the night sky until she spotted the bright star. Her face brightened and for a few moments she stood there looking mesmerised and her eyes twinkled with sweet, innocent joy, reminiscent of a happy chidhood.Her mother came into the room and beckoned her to the bed. She whispered "Bye bye Tara!" and waved her hand as she moved towards her bed. Soon, she was fast asleep.

Not one day had gone, when Radha had gone to sleep without meeting her Tara. At times she would even talk to her Tara, all about her friends, school, chocolates, about gifts which her Baba got her, about the sweets which her Ma prepared for her. There was a special bond which little Radha shared with this star.

As she grew older, her bond with the star strengthened. She would spend hours in the science library reading about stars, at night she would use her small telescope to view the star. She had bought the telescope by saving her pocket money and doing small chores for her friends and neighbours. She never quite understood why she liked this star so much. The more she read about the star, the more she wanted to know, her thirst for knowledge kept on increasing.

One day while reading a book about real life incidents, she came across a story about a young boy called Michael. The story was about how Michael, a very good human being at heart, dies fighting a critical disease, his last words to his mother were "Mother, when I die, don't miss me, just look at the night sky, I will be there, the brightest star in the night sky, smiling at you. And remember mother I will be watching you, and I dont ever want to see tears in your eyes." That very night Michael passed away. His mother stepped on the damp grass of the garden and looked at the night sky, she saw a bright star and waved and said "Hello Michael". From that day onwards it became a routine for his mother, she would visit her son everynight.

Radha jumped off her bed and quickly searched on the internet. It didn't take long before she found the date when Michael passed away. The date somehow looked familiar, she quickly reached for her diary and searched, the day and month of Michael's death, and the day and month of the earliest record found of the star was the same. She was surprised, was it a mere co-incidence?

She just considered it a mere co-incidence and went off to sleep. But something was still bothering her and she couldn't sleep. She searched the internet again and found that the constellation of Michael's zodiac was the same constellation in which the star was located. She attributed this also to another co-incidence. But somehow, somewhere Michael's story had really touched her.

The following month, she got a scholarship from a university which was located near the town where Michael lived. She was very excited, she had made a note of paying a visit to the town.

A few months passed before she could make arrangements to visit Michael's town. She called up Michael's mother and briefly told her about the visit, Michael's mother was a friendly woman, and she obliged.

Finally the day arrived, she reached the town early in the morning. She stopped by at a local cafe to have breakfast. The cafe only had a couple of visitors other than her. The cafe owner, a short, pompous lady seemed friendly and Radha quickly picked up a conversation with her. Radha didn't directly jump to Michael's topic, she chatted away a few minutes asking about the town, and asking if there are any good places nearby, which one should visit. Slowly, she came to the topic, when she mentioned about Michael, the cafe owner's eyes filled with tears. Michael seemed to be everyones favourite in the town. The cafe owner spoke about how, despite his sufferring, Michael was the most charming boy around, and how he never failed to win anyone's heart, with his beautiful charming smile and his simple and modest nature.The phone interrupted their conversation, and Radha realised it was time for her to leave.

She had asked the lady at the cafe for directions to Michael's house. It was situated slightly away from the main market, a little aloof from the rest of the houses, on a tiny hill surrounded by lush green fields. Radha quickly climbed the hill and knocked at the door. The door was opened by a woman in her mid-seventies, she had beautiful twinkling blue eyes, and her grey hair was tied in a bun. Her warm smile touched Radha's heart, it reminded her of her Ma. The old lady greeted Radha and introduced her as Michael's mother. The lady had a certain charisma about her and Radha couldn't help but was completely awe struck.

She welcomed Radha into the house, the house was simple, but a warm and cozy home. Michael's mother had kept steaming tea with muffins ready for Radha. They chatted about Radha's journey over the tea. After the tea was over, Michael's mother asked Radha about the purpose of her visit, and Radha narrated the whole story to her. On hearing Michael's mention, Michael's mother, concealed her tears and Radha could see the command which the lady had over her emotions, but it was a completely honest effort on a mother's part who had promised her son, that he will never see tears in her eyes.

After hearing the story, Michael's mother, completely composed, took Radha by hand and led her to a room at the end of the house. The room looked as if it belonged to a teenager, there was a wheel chair in the corner, Radha realised it was Michael's room. But the room had been well taken care of, it appeared that it was cleaned and tidied up every day. Michael's mother walked inside the room and picked up a photo frame and handed it over to Radha, saying "That's my Michael". Radha took the picture in her hands, she couldn't believe that Michael was critically ill. He was one of the most handsome boys Radha had ever seen, and indeed he had the most beautiful smile. His sparkling blue eyes were just like his mother's eyes.

Michael's mother showed her various other pictures of Michael, some taken while playing baseball, some at the town Church, some taken on his birthday party, where the whole town seemed to have gathered. She then showed Radha Michael's diary, where he had scribbled all about various stars and constellations. Radha was shocked to see it, Michael had the same interests like her. His notes were so similar to hers, even he was interested in the same things which she loved doing. Michael's mother carefully extracted a box from the cupboard and showed Radha, Michael's most priced possession, a telescope, one similar to what Radha had. His mother's hand touched the telescope as if she was caressing her son. She gave the telescope to Radha, when Radha touched the telescope a very different feeling swept over her.

They didn't realise, sitting there in Michael's room, that night had fallen. It was the whistling of a train at a distance that brought them back to reality. Michael's mother slowly rose from the chair, she smiled at Radha and said "Time to meet Michael", and left the room. Radha followed her, Michael's mother slowly unlatched the door and stepped on the grass in the garden. A cool breeze was flowing, they stepped outside and sat there. She said "Hey Michael, see your friend is here to pay you a visit". Radha looked up and was stunned, the star had never appeared this close to earth and its magnificience was simply breath taking. She could feel Michael's presence around her, she could see him smiling, with the same twinkling in his deep blue eyes. "Tara, that is what you call a star in India, am I right?" Michael's mother whispered to Radha. On hearing this Radha's heart filled with very strong emotions. It was a mixed feeling, she couldn't describe it. The universe, so big, yet seemed so small to her, and mankind, no matter how advanced, seemed so powerless to her, in front of Nature!

It feels good to be back and blogging.. :)

Water
Recently I dont know why but I seem to be really noticing this one particular element H2O. Of course already a lot has been said about its sweetness on a thirsty throat. But have you ever tried the following:
1. While preparing for exams, generallly I used to stay awake late in the night and used to have a huge bottle of water to accompany me. While studying I used to sip the water and feel it go down my food pipe, its a strange feeling, you can feel the cool of the water as it moves down the food pipe.
2. People say that the right way to drink coffee is to take a sip of coffee, but dont gulp it down, keep it in your mouth, roll your tongue and feel its texture and taste, thats the way you do justice to the taste of coffee, and thats when coffee tastes the best. Ever tried that with water?
3. Try this once, take a huge bottle of water, drink a glass of water from it, it feels normal. Now slowly keep drinking the water even if your stomach is full and you dont feel like drinking water.
WARNING: Dont drink so much that you puke, keep it in control.
Carefully observe the taste of water, it gradually changes, the taste which you got with the first glass of water wont be the same which you get with the 2nd glass or the 5th one. (I personally could never go beyond the 5th)

My experimentation is still on.. If you guys still have something more to share do lemme know.. I bet this one element will surely amaze you! :)

More Pics from GOA ... :)


St. Xavier's Church ...
A visit to this Church is truly a divine experience

GOA PICS
(Visited Goa after 10years)

Chinese Pavillion... A chinese restaurant where me n my friend used to have lunch and at times on the pretext of extra classes used to rush to Chinese pavillion n have lunch n chocolate ice cream :) Not that extra classes weren't there.. extra classes used to happen and we used to attend them.. just that their duration used to inevitably increase by an hour ;)



















Temples of GOA



































































































































































































Here are some pics... Some more coming up... stay tuned :D

Hey All,
Sorry was on vacation in Goa... so couldn't blog... but dont worry Goa pics coming up soon.. :D
Shweta

'PUNE' through my mobile's 'I'

Hey All,
I apologise for absolutely no activity on this blog for so many days! Can't really complain of being too busy nowadays, but just couldn't blog for some or the other reason. But, will try my best to have a new blog soon, I dont promise though.
Thanks for your patience.
Shweta

OFFICE

OFFICE

INSPIRATION...

The dusty track to the village!
















The Dry mango tree

The Temple

The river and the bridge
















Chiku!















The sunset from the roof top.


















These are some images which I had taken on our recent trip to Shirdi.

Stories of Papa's village and these pictures inspired me to write 'Life'.

Life

He got down from the over stuffed bus and started on the dusty track which led to the village. His heart rejoiced as his feet touched the ground where he was born. The cool breeze and the warm sun, flooded his mind with the memories of his childhood.

He jumped from the bullock cart and started racing on the same dusty track, his school bag bouncing against his legs. From behind he could hear Hari scream "Wait for me you cheat! See how I will beat you in the race. Ram is a cheater! Ramu is a cheater", chanting he sped past Ram. Hari had got rid of his bag, Ram too threw his bag and increased his pace. Soon, they were neck to neck when Ram pounced on Hari and they both fell on the soft green grass under the old mango tree, and broke into a small playful wrestle.

He smiled and quickened his pace, the village did look a bit different. His eyes fell on the mango tree, it was bare, and its trunk had turned ghostly white. He slowly walked to the tree and touched the trunk, the ground under the tree was barren and dry. The temple bell was ringing in the distance, he looked at his watch, it was 12 noon.

The wrestling boys suddenly came to a stop when they heard the temple bell ring. Both of them gave each other a naughty grin and ran to pick up their bags before they fled in the direction of the temple. The temple pandit, an old man, who lived alone and was the caretaker of the tiny village temple of Lord Hanuman, was performing the afternoon aarti. The two boys hid behind the walls as they watched the pandit perform the puja. They waited for the pandit to walk to the river Ganga for the aarti, as his daily ritual. As the pandit slowly descended the stairs, the two boys sneaked into the temple and stole the laddoos offered to Hanumanji. The pandit had forgotten to carry his kalash and started climbing the stairs when his eye caught the two miscreants. He started waving his laathi at the boys and ran after them, the boys fled giggling as the poor old pandit followed them. But he soon gave up, as he was left out of breath and his legs started hurting. The boys then slowly walked towards their home munching on their laddoos.

He walked towards the temple, the temple bell was still ringing. As he climbed the temple stairs, he observed that the temple too had aged, its stairs were partially broken, the walls were dull and looked as if they would collapse with the slightest push, the hinge on which the bell was suspended was also loose. The pandit performing the puja was a young man, in his early thirties. The pundit offered him the prasad, and before he could talk to him, the pandit left and walked towards the river. He sat in the temple to rest and ate his prasad. He looked at the walls, there were cob webs all over the place, the floor was not smooth but eroded. There were plants growing in the crevices developed in the walls. He finished his laddoo and walked towards the village.

The two boys, reached the bridge on the river, they washed their hands in the river and continued on their way home. Their houses were situated on the opposite sides of a tiny pond. They bid each other good bye and ran towards their respective homes. Ram's house was bigger than Hari's. Ram's house had a well from which most of the villagers took water. They had the most number of cows and bullocks in the village and Ram's favourite cow was Shayama, because she had recently given birth to a very cute calf, who Ram's mother said was his. He had named the calf Chikku, because of his brown colored skin resembled the skin of a chiku -a fruit. His grandfather was seated in the varanda puffing hukka. He ran to him and threw his bag next to his grandfather and gave him a hug. His grandfather said "Go, go, first go and have something to eat, you must be hungry." He ran to the well and washed his hands and feet, then ran to his mother in the kitchen. He hugged his mother tight, she embraced him and wiped the water off his face with her aanchal. Then she quickly served him food, and started talking to him and waving a hand held fan at the same time. She asked him about his day at school and the usual. After he finished his lunch, he ran to play with Chikku. Then he heard his mother call him from inside and told him to sleep for a while, and he could play with Chikku in the evening. He quickly ran to his room and jumped on the bed and soon was fast asleep.

As he walked to the bridge over the river, he saw that, like all the other things, the bridge too had become old and was weak. He looked ahead the pond was completely dry. Then he slowly with a slight fear in his heart, gathered the courage to look in the direction of the house, but what he saw, completely shocked him.

The once beautiful house was reduced to rubble. He walked towards it with a heavy heart. The well was completely dry, and filled with dry leaves and dirt. He turned and walked towards the place where once the cow shed used to be located, there was nothing left. He walked towards the kitchen, the wall had collapsed exactly at the place where once the chulha (earthen stove) was located. He turned towards a room.

He got up from his bed and rushed outside. He climbed the stairs adjacent to the door and went to the roof. He looked in the direction of the setting sun and instantly his face brightened and he screamed "Baba!" A man walking on the road, lifted his head up, immediately his face broke into a smile and he waved. Ram, rushed down the stairs, and ran outside the house, his mother screaming from behind "Ram careful!" Ram ran and clinged to his father, his father lifted him up and placed him on his back, while Ram bombarded him with questions, "What did you get for me baba? Did you find the toy bullock cart which we had seen at the fair?" His father kept nodding and smiling. They reached home and Ram climbed down his baba's back, looking eagerly at him. His father reached in his bag and gave Ram the toy, he screamed with joy. Taking the toy in his hands, he ran towards Hari's house, who was already outside hearing all the commotion Ram had created.

The room was beyond recognition, the walls had given way and the roof had caved in, the place where once the staircase was situated was now a mere pile of rubble. He sat on a stone, the afternoon sun was bright and he felt very tired and thirsty. He reached for his bag and removed a bottle of water and took a sip from it.

Ram came back panting in the evening, after playing with his friends, which he did everyday. He was thirsty, he washed at the well and ran to his mother. He knew that she would be ready with a glass of chilled sweet lassi for him. She handed him the glass and he drank it at one go, his mother smiled and said "Drink slowly beta".

He walked towards the rooms, where there were bedrooms in which baba and ma used to sleep. The walls were partially damaged and the roof had gone, while the floor was a complete mess.

Ram hid behind the room and casted intermittent glances, through the window, at the room inside. His mother was searching for him, under the bed, behind the trunk when suddenly she saw him peeping through the window. He darted towards his room but his mother was quick and grabbed his shirt. Both of them couldn't stop laughing, tears were rolling down his eyes, because of the laughter, as his mother playfully punched him for being naughty.

The wall, with the window, was still intact. Not exactly intact, but it was in a better shape than the rest of the walls. He walked over to the window, walking across the room was difficult as there was too much rubble, he almost slipped with each step.

After dinner Ram helped his mother prepare the bed for his grandfather. Then he climbed on it and waited for his grandfather, when he came, he said "Dadaji, I want to hear the wolf and the prince's story tonight." His grandfather grinned and after settling in his bed, started telling the story. After the story was over, he kissed his grandfather, and ran to his parents room. His parents were already in bed, but were awake. He jumped on the bed between them, his father patted him on the back and his mother gently stroked his head. Soon he fell in a deep, peaceful sleep.

A bottle rolled out of his pocket, he picked it up. The bottle contained sleeping pills, he had to take them daily, he was so dependent on them.

A tear rolled down his eyes as he stood there, amongst the remains of his good old days.

Beggars are because of us.

I always wondered that somewhere we are responsible for the beggars on the streets of India. The survival instincts of the human race are by far the best, there is no denying that. So, if each one of us stops paying these beggars, then they will be forced to look somewhere else for their daily bread. It is because we pay them, they highly depend on us, and do not work for their daily bread, also their number keeps on increasing. Its not uncommon to hear cases of children being stolen and forced to become beggars. Not only children, women as well as men also face the same fate at times. Stories of even amputation of limbs have come to light, in order to be pitied at, and earn more from begging.

So, if we stop paying the beggars, will their number actually decrease? Won't they resort to criminal activities? Well, the possibility cannot be completely ruled out. But, isn't it the duty of the Police to keep a check on the criminal activities? Also, what assurance do we have that these beggars aren't criminals? Its a possibility that they apart from being beggars are also thieves, cheaters etc.

The another question that springs to the mind is, what about the physically challenged beggars, where will they go? I would say, just look around you, travel in a municipal bus once and you will realise. There are so many diverse, physically challenged people who work to earn their daily bread. I remember when I was in 11th standard, I used the PMT at times to travel to college, and believe me, there were two blind men and one lame man who used to travel to their work place every morning in the same bus and that too without any assistance from anyone.

I was discussing the same issue with a friend recently. We were seated in his car, when a young, healthy looking woman, in her late twenties, carrying a child came up to us to beg. I stopped him from paying her, I found her healthy enough to fend for herself and her child. He said, its not easy for them to get a job, I said its not easy even for us, graduates from reputed schools, to land in a job. I never said that getting a job is easy, but atleast its not impossible. There are so many daily wage labourers, and there is always a want for more. There are NGOs setup to help these people find jobs, help them bring that change in their life, so that they start living a more dignified life.

So think about it before you pay a beggar the next time. Its our responsibility as well to make a difference. Well this is my take on the issue, do post in your views as well, I will be glad.

Just a moment

"Sochna kya jo bhi hoga dekha jayega... Kal ke liye aaj ko na khona, aaj yeh na kal aayega..." song was playing as she was getting ready to leave. She glanced at the watch, she was running late, quickly she switched off the player, rushed outside and locked the door.
It was a good start to her day, she was happy, and was humming the song in her mind. She reached the office, and just like any other day, greeted her friend with the usual Good Morning, but today instead of the general 'Good Morn' reply, she just got a cold stare. She said "Arey baap re lagta hai aaj Meena madam ka mood theek nahi hai" and giggled. At this Meena turned and snapped at her, and told her to mind her own business. She was quite taken aback, she was concerned, she said "Sorry Meena, I didnt mean to hurt you, what's wrong? Is everything allright". Meena snapped again "I told you to mind your own business, now will you stop bothering me!" She thought that its better to keep shut now, if need be, she will talk to her later. But somehow the charm and freshness of the morning, which she felt had vanished. Her phone rang, she picked up the phone, and it was her friend on the line. She greeted him with a hello, but what she got in return was unexpected. He too snapped at her for some very stupid reason. This put her off completely!

Later during the day, another friend of hers called her up, and they also ended up quarrelling. She was really frustrated now, she couldn't concentrate on her work either. To top it all, her room mate, her best friend called her up, and was really angry with her, because of some stupid mistake on her part, she had to suffer, and all her hard work went down the drain. She felt pathetic, almost choking, her roomie hung up on her. She clenched her fist tight, everything was so miserable.

At work, her deadline was approaching, and nothing seemed to be working, every other thing that could never fail was also failing, and that too in the most complex manner. Her head was throbbing with pain now, as if it would burst open any minute. She wanted to scream, but had to resort to only a tightly clenched jaw, to give vent to her frustrations.

Finally the day ended, and it was time to leave for home. She wanted to leave the office as soon as possible, but didn't want to go home either, but she knew, she had to head for home straight. When she was leaving office, she received an sms, from a friend who had a confession to make. She messaged him back, promising that she won't be angry, and to go ahead with the confession. The next minute she received a long message, on reading the message, her bag fell from her hand. Her friend alongwith another friend of his, had been playing a prank on her for the whole of last week. She just replied with a false laugh, but nothing could match the anger that was burning her heart then. She rushed to her bike, and zoomed out of the office. The mockery, the anger, the argument, everything was hurting her. An urge to scream again took over her, warm tears were flowing down her cheek by now, her head felt as it it will split open any second, she shut her eyes tight, suddenly there was an excruciating pain and everything was silent after that, all the pain had gone, she felt as if she is in some deep, very deep sleep.

Next day in the morning, her friend Meena, was waiting in the office for her, so that she can tell her the good news. Her desk phone was ringing, her friend wanted to say sorry to her, coz he for no reason had snapped at her the yesterday. Another friend of her's was trying to call her up on her mobile, to say how stupid she felt, for quarreling with her on such a dumb reason. Her seniors at work were waiting to tell her, that the deadline of her work was extended and she had enough time to complete her work comfortably. Her prankster friends were sending her sorry messages, but none were getting delivered.

Her roomie, sitting beside the hospital bed, had come to know later that it wasn't her mistake, now all she could do was pray, that she comes out of the coma, and all the injuries which she sustained in that terrible road accident, heal faster, while waiting for her parents to arrive.

Shocking Incident
How many times have we come across Municipality workers, doing their assigned chores, without any kind of protective gear! A common sight ... isn't it? But, recently what I saw was far from common or was it really not that uncommon?

I was on my way to F. C. Road, when just after the Pulgate crossing, there was a huge traffic jam. I was confused as there were no signs of road accidents. I observed everyone was looking up, and I followed, but the sight which awaited was terrible. My heart stopped beating, I couldn't breathe...I quickly looked away, I tried to drive away fast but the whole traffic was stalled and I couldn't get out of there. I tried to manoeuver my car so that I can take a turn and go some other way...but there were electricity wires strewn on the road. I was helpless, and my eyes fell on that electricity pole again. A boys dead body was hanging upside down from the pole, his legs were entwined and his torso was dangling down, lifeless. Another man, on top of the pole was trying to pull him up, he caught hold of his hand and pulled the boy's body up, but the hand slipped and the body swayed in an awkward position. I couldn't look anymore!

I had to get out of there, somehow I managed to make someway and get out of there, as more and more people were stopping by to take a look. I found it disgusting, as all these people were there only to watch the tamasha. I agree the workers were helping to get the body down quickly but simply gathering around and watching, as if some show was on, disgusted me more. I wonder if somebody had called an ambulance or no. I agree neither did I call an ambulance, well how often are you confronted with such sights, so as to have the sense to call up an ambulance. I bet when others surely had the hearts to watch such a sight, they would indeed have had the guts to react and call an ambulance.

That was the first time in my life that I saw a dead body from this close. I was disturbed, rather the sight still flashes in front of my eyes. Later, I thought, how we don't value life in India. This is just one incident there may be hundreds of them happening everyday, in each city, all because of faulty practices. Probably the accident that I saw, could have been avoided if proper safety precautions were taken. A household's bread-winner wouldn't have been lost.

I don't know how to curse the government. I wonder if God will have to construct a VIP hell for them, something beyond imagination. I bet, God surely has some surprises awaiting these politicians. But whats the use cursing them? How proactive are we? What have we done for the nation? I don't know .. everywhere you go...TV channels, Movies .. everyone is talking about it.. thousand more are talking of getting inspired from it.. but why dont I see any action? Probably I am the wrong person to be asking such questions... after all I wasn't even inspired, neither have I acted on a thing, with patriotism being the cause for it.

Most people say... my blogs have a negative streak to them. All the stories I write are sad and painful. But, this is not a story, its a true incident. How much does this hurt you? I bet all my stories look subtle in the face of harsh reality.

Do call up the ambulance if you come across such situation. It was my first, and I am sharing my experience so that you do not make the same mistake, which I committed.

Friend

He drove there, as fast as he could, farther and farther away. He took a turn dropped his bike and sprinted towards the trees, he ran till he came to a cliff. Tears were streaking down his face, he knelt, buried his head in his hands and started sobbing.

It was late evening, the sun had already set, it was slowly getting dark. He sat there like a statue gazing into nothing. His eyes were swollen, his crying reduced to soft sobs and breathing was hurting his chest. The birds had already returned home, and a few stars were already twinkling in the sky.

He lied down on his side, on the cold rocks beneath, his eyes closed slowly. After a few moments, he turned and rested on his back, gazing at all the bright stars in the night sky. He stayed there for a while, a tear rolled down from the side of his eye, his eyes were burning.

He slowly slid his hand in his pocket and removed a pack of cigarettes. He looked at the packet, as a fresh pool of tears filled his eyes. He tossed it in his hands for a while, then he slowly got up and walked towards the edge of the cliff. He took a last look at the packet and a thought of, one last smoke, came to his mind. At the thought his heart started burning again and then he threw away the packet with all his might.

He walked back to his bike, picked it up and left the cliff. On his way back, he was thinking, thinking hard, as if preparing himself for something. He was trying to console himself. Phrases like 'Whatever happens, happens for your own good' 'Time is the best healer' and all that. His heart felt heavy again, and his eyes were so swollen that not a single tear formed in them, and they burned as if on fire.

He stopped in front of a white building, even at this hour of the night, there was a lot of activity going on in the building. An ambulance screeched to a stop in front of the gate and suddenly there was a flurry of staff running around. There was a man on the stretcher, his face was covered in blood, making it unrecognizable.

After the passage was clear, he started moving towards the building. His legs were feeling heavy, and his heart was heavier. He came to a stop in front of a room with glass windows, and peered inside.

The sight of a human body, almost lifeless, with dozens of instruments punched into it, is terribly painful. He stood there, looking at the body of a man, with instruments all around him, beeping, pulsating machines. This man lying in the hospital bed, meant so much to him. He was always there for him, as far as he could remember.

The first time they went to school, they were together. They even got their first bicycles on the same day. The first time they went to college, they were together. They also had their first smoke together. He cursed the day they started smoking.

It was a beautiful morning and their first year results were out and both of them had scored more than their expectations. They were excited as they went to the shack outside the college, to have tea. The whole college gang was there, and everyone was celebrating. He can not remember clearly who offered them the first cigarette and when did it become an integral part of their life. They never even thought of quitting, because it was the 'in' thing and they enjoyed it so much. Soon the count had gone up from one or two stubs to almost 16 a day.

He could see his own health was deteriorating, but his friend's was worse. The moment he smoke, he would get an attack of incessant coughs. How much he urged his friend to stop, but all his efforts went down the drain. He used to steal his pack of cigarettes and throw them away, still somehow he managed to get his hands on some stubs.

On the night of Jan 16th, he suddenly woke up to the coughs of his friend, which just wouldnt stop. He got up and rushed to his bed, and was shocked to see blood on his sheet. He managed to wake up a few others in the hostel and soon they got him to the hospital.

He started walking, and came to a stop in front of another similar door, and a similar sight greeted him, the only difference, this time it was the body of an old man. A boy, almost the same age as his, was attending to him. He was thankful, atleast his friend wasn't inflicting such agony on his offsprings and soulmate. But, at the same time, he thought, about the future of his friend, he had no future at all.

He wondered how a careless attitude left them with nothing, not even a future, which for most of them is the only ray hope. He returned to his friend's room and sat there, staring at the watch as the minutes ticked away, and he couldn't do anything about it. He had to just wait and watch.

Forest

It was a dark and dense forest, people said it was haunted, not a single living creature existed there. Not even birds flew in that direction, it was evil. Filled with tall huge trees, the air was filled with the smell of the dead and decaying animals, leaves and grass. It was not a pleasant sight either, carcasses of animals were strewn across, who had made the biggest mistake of venturing in that direction.

Deep, deep inside the forest, there were some sounds...not very clear. On moving closer, it sounded like screams, a woman's screams, but it was not only that, there was also some other fast humming kind of sound, which had a rhythm to it.

She kept on moving ahead, and the noise grew louder. The screams were intermittent but the humming was continuous, it gave her a creepy feeling. The humming was hurting her ears, it wasn't loud still it forced her to clasp her hands on her ears, it was the rhythm and the way it sounded that was piercing her ears. She couldn't recognise the sound, she kept moving ahead, her mind working fast and her ears listening hard, despite the torture. The sound started becoming clearer and sharper, yes, she recognised it, it was some sort of chanting. Suddenly, she saw smoke, she broke into a light run, as she advanced towards the smoke, twigs snapping beneath her feet.

It was so dark in this part of the forest, it looked as though it was night fall. The only source of light was the fire, from which the smoke was emanating. She could see a figure seated, next to the fire, back towards her, but there was no one else in the sight. The person next to the fire was the one who was chanting, but the screams, where were the screams coming from. She started looking around but could see no one, when suddenly she heard another scream and looked up. Her eyes popped out of their sockets at the sight and quickly she placed her hand on her mouth, just in time to conceal her shriek. She shut her eyes tight and bit her finger, so as to release the pain which the sight caused her.

After a while she turned again to look, there was a woman, suspended by her hair from a branch of a tree, right above the fire. Her hands and legs were tied, there were deep gashes on her body, from which blood was trickling, the flames seemed to be relishing each drop of blood, it appeared as though the fire was thriving on it. The woman seemed stupefied for a while, when suddenly, the person below started some new chants, which made her scream all the more in pain, as the intensity of the chants grew so did her frequency of screams.

The figure rose from the ground, she peered hard to see, it was a man. He started circling the fire, her eyes fell on a beheaded goat, lying in a pool of blood. There was also a cock, with a twisted neck, lying lifeless on the ground.

The man was old, his beard reached his chest, most of his face was covered in hair. But what was about to happen, she couldn't have imagined. He picked up a sickle from the floor and cut his wrist, and offered his blood to the flames. The flames bacame more intense and rose higher!

He went to the tree where the rope, which suspended the woman, was tied. He untied it and started lowering the woman. She started screaming, as her feet were almost in the fire by now. He lifted his hand, which held the sickle and aimed at the woman, he took a deep breath, chanted a few verses and threw the sickle at her. A blood curdling scream!




She got up, panting! She was sweating profusely. She could feel droplets of sweat forming on her forehead, and slowly trickling down her temple. She looked around, there was no fire, no man, no woman, no trees, no forest. She was in her bed, she sighed with relief. She lit the table lamp, reached for the bottle, and drank water, she was feeling exhausted. Even though she was feeling relieved, she felt a funny uneasiness, she decided to ignore it. She looked outside the window of the hut, there in the distance at the foot of the hill, she could see the forest. She wiped her brow with a finger, but there was something wrong, she stretched her hand, so that the light from the lamp fell on her hands, it was not sweat, it was blood!

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A Coin

It was one of the darkest alleys of the suburb, littered with overflowing garbage cans. He sat there with his back against a wall. A street lamp, far away, was casting a very dim light on his face, still his face was hardly visible.

Something glistened in his hands, he clutched it, and banged his hand against the floor.

A little boy was standing on the roadside, with a balloon in his left hand, and clutching his grandmother's arm with the other. His grandmother was handing a similar silver coin, making payment for the balloons.

A fair, a lady dressed in elegant clothes paying the man at the booth with a silver coin, to buy a ticket for a little boy standing next to her.

A bicycle shop, a dapper man paying the mechanic a silver coin, while nearby a little boy merrily rides a bicycle in small circles.

He clenches his fist so tight, his nails start digging his flesh, tighter, tighter, he lets go and pockets his coin.

A very beautiful afternoon, a car driving on a beautiful country road slowly approaches the bridge, after a few seconds, screeching sound of the tyres, a giant splash!

He bangs his head against the wall, his head feels numb and he looks relieved. Within seconds, the numbness starts to disappear, images start flashing in front of his eyes, he bangs again and the numbness returns.

He gets up and starts walking, the images at the back of his mind waiting to haunt him and he is aware of it. He starts running, cars, bikes, trucks, he wishes, wishes strongly that all the noise, all the commotion should occupy his mind, but his mind still wanders along the road, near the river. He clenches his fist again, a drop of blood trickles down, he loosens it, still no relief. Slowly, steadily he walks back to the alley, tears filled in his eyes.

A boy is choking in the car, struggling to get out, the murky water makes it impossible to see. He starts kicking and hitting the wind shield, but the water softens his blows. He doesnt know how long it took to break the glass, he squeezes his way out, his lungs start filling with water, he hurriedly starts swimming up, he can feel his body going numb. He reaches the surface, gasps for breath, simultaneously looking around, he cannot see anyone, he screams "HELP!!". Takes a deep breath, and dives in the water. He cannot see the car, he keeps moving down, bubbles escaping his mouth, finally he spots the car. He swims faster, feels the broken glass, he tries to open the lock of the gate, but its stuck, he gives it another shot, still stuck, a final pull and the door unlocks, he pulls the door with all his strength, and manages to open it. All his breath has escaped, he swims inside the car, feels a hand at the wheel, he pulls, at the same time his other hand searches the back seat, he feels something, its a shoe, he pulls. Next thing, he remembers is swimming upwards, clenching hands.

He sits in the alley, his face buried in his hands, crying painfully.

A soft bed, a hand stroking his little head gently, his little body curled up, his head resting in her lap, his outstretched hand holding a silver coin, he is crying, but the crying was peaceful.

DREAM
They uprooted the tree, the very first of the evidences to be destroyed. Nobody could ever imagine, what lay in the womb of the huge tree, that's why no body even bothered to take a look inside. There was the man, once an influential leader, curled up, almost doubled, hiding in the trunk, dirty and frail. The tree did not betray him, the same tree under which he had spent so many of his days, when he was respected and recognised by the masses. He moved slowly, as if each movement of his was causing him great pain, any sharp sudden movement would prbably snap his bones. He struggled and climbed out of the trunk of the giant tree. He stood there for a moment, as if gazing at his friend, who lost its life saving him. He turned, nothing was left, all that glow and charm was lost, there was nothing but pain in those eyes, his once handsome face was beaten and rugged. No one could believe that such a gentleman a time long ago, had become so wild to the looks.

There was alarm in his eyes, he ran to the nearby bush, a pack of wolves was passing by, he followed the pack, maintaining a safe distance. After going some distance, he heard some voices, the wolves took shelter in a nearby cave, and he took refuge behind a huge rock. A nomadic tribe was passing the forest. Slowly steadily, he came out from behind the rock, he tried to stay covered behind the bushes so as to avoid the tribe from noticing him. They walked for miles until they came upon a small town.

He was starving and thirsty. In the distance a small house, caught his eye. There was a small balcony on the first floor which led to the kitchen. There was a tree just next to it, without wasting a minute he climbed the tree, into the balcony and went inside the kitchen. It was deserted. He quickly grabbed a piece of bread on the table and ate it hungrily. There was a small jug filled with water, he reached for it, when suddenly he heard someone coming up the stairs. He hurriedly went to the balcony and hid himself behind an old box.

The kitchen's door opened, and in came an old man. His skin was pale, but there was certain charisma about him, which commanded respect. He didnt notice the missing bread and the crumbs which littered the floor. He went to the fridge and extracted an apple, and went down with it, closing the kitchen door behind him.

After the old man left, he stayed there for a while looking at the kitchen door. Then after a few seconds, he rushed to the kitchen grabbed the jug and started drinking, spilling most of the water all over his front. He went back to the balcony and hid himself behind the box.

He got up startled, when he heard a crash. For a few moments he couldn't recollect where he was, when slowly everything flashed before his eyes. He ducked under the box. After a while, he slowly peeped out of the balcony, on the road below, a car in the parking lot of the neighbours was hit by a motorist. A man was screaming and swearing at a teenaged boy, when a woman came from inside, the neighbouring house, said something to the man and both of them went inside dragging the teenager along.

Up in the balcony he heaved a sigh of relief. He heard music being played in the room below. He sat there listening to the soft melodious sound of the flute. His eyes closed and he thought about the past.

He was addressing a small congregation, in a luxurious assembly hall. He finished his speech and the hall filled with applause.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened, and he was jolted back to reality. The old man entered the kitchen. He lit the stove, and placed a saucepan on it. Then he reached for the fridge and took out some vegetables and started to cook. Then he took out a loaf of bread and started cutting it. He cut two pieces and placed the loaf back. He took a piece of bread placed it in a plate, then he removed the pan from the stove and emptied half of it in the plate. He left the rest in the pan and placed it on the table next to the piece of the bread which was left. He then turned towards the door, closing it behind him, he climbed down the stairs.

He was watching the old man from behind the box. As soon as the man left the kitchen. He slowly went towards the table, and stared at the food. He couldnt stop himself, and started eating, he ate very quickly. After finishing he went back to his hiding place.

The old man came up the stairs, placed his plate in the basin, turned towards the table and looked at the pan. In the balcony, a small gasp, escaped his mouth. The old man picked up the empty pan and placed it in the basin, and then went back downstairs. He heaved a sigh of relief.

He opened his eyes, the sun shone from the foliage of the trees. He rubbed his eyes, and sat tucked behind the box. There was no sound from the kitchen, none from the room below either. He heard the sound of water being sprayed. He craned his neck to peer down, without being noticed, the old man was watering the plants in the garden. The neighbour was raking leaves.

He started thinking, it was after so many days, that he couldnt even remember, since he had good food, in fact it had been so many days since he had any food. He felt content, yesterday nights food had given him a very different feeling. He thanked the old man, blessed him in his mind, prayed for him silently.

He heard hurried footsteps up the stairs, he started thinking quickly. The old man wasn't capable of climbing so fast up the stairs. He panicked, he leaped from behind the box, looked down, and just when the kitchen door was about to open, he jumped, right on the road, the neighbour turned and saw him.

Now that the neighbour had seen him, he turned to look, the old man was no where in the garden. He started running, the neighbour darted behind him. He ran faster, the neighbour followed, at the end of the avenue, there was a crossing, he took a right and stopped running but his walkin pace was quick. He turned and entered a building. The neighbour came panting, he couldn't see where had the man escaped. He waited for a while and returned.

He was hiding in the building. When suddenly a huge truck went past, and he stared at it, his mouth agape. The truck was carrying an uprooted life size statue, his eyes filled with tears, looking at his stone replica. He felt a lump rise in his throat, his heart started burning, he wanted to scream. His eyes fell on a line on which some clothes were left to dry, he hurried towards it.

When he came out from the building, he was wearing a decent pair of pants and a good shirt. He started walking in the direction of the truck. As he kept on walking, slowly the road became dense, there were many people and vehicles on the road. No body took any notice of him. There was a building at the end of the road, he recognised it, he headed straight for it. He started climbing the stairs, when he suddenly felt as though some one was watching him. He didnt dare to turn, he kept on climbing, when suddenly he saw a couple of men staring down at him. He recognised the look on their face, he turned and started running, another two men blocked his way, he pushed them hard and they went rolling down the stairs, he kept on running. He came to the road and kept running, four men were following him. He turned in at the avenue, and saw the neighbour on a bicycle staring at him. He looked at the neighbour in the eye, the neighbour studied his face, and caught his arm and started riding his bicycle. The man dragged along, trying to run, but couldnt keep up with the speed. Suddenly he placed his hand on the arm of the neighbour and squeezed it slightly, the neighbour stopped. The four men were coming closer. He looked up in the balcony, the old man was standing with a little girl in his arms. He looked at the old man, the old man recognized the look on his face, and tears rolled down his eyes, as he looked at the girl and back at him, down on the road. He smiled at the old man. Suddenly there was a loud bang, and he felt an excruciating pain, in his chest, warm blood oozed out. He fell to the ground, looked at the sky, smiled, and closed his eyes forever.

PEBBLES
The first time I got a fish tank, my father got me a pair of Black Mollys and a pair of Goldfish. One of the goldfish was named Pebbles and the other Bubbles. Later, as time went by, we added more goldfish to the tank. As most of you might be aware that goldfish are very delicate, any climatic change occurs and they die. Also, they arent able to judge how much they should eat. The more you feed them, the more they eat, and they may instantaneously die of overeating. Bubbles didnt last long, she died, the reason, I couldnt infer. As more and more fish were added, their deaths also continued. Its very sad to see a fish die. When they are alive, they are such marvellous creatures. They are beautiful, delicate, active, they soon become a part of the family. Many might think, how is this possible? But, its true. It was either my mother or me who used to feed them, and the moment they would sense either of us near the fish tank, they would all swim up and open their tiny mouths expecting food. But, if a stranger would come close, they would all swim to the bottom and the corner most spot of the tank and stay there, till that person left. I dont know how they were able to identify me or my mother? I think that was all possible because we had an unseen bond among us.
So, like I said, many fish wouldnt even last a couple of days, and would die. But, Pebbles, she was different. She lasted the longest. I guess because she was my favourite. We had to keep changing the water of the tank every fortnight or so, and we needed to transfer the fish, so that we could clean the tank and fill fresh water. When I used to fish out the other fish they would panic, first of all it used to be really difficult to catch hold of a live fish in the tank, to top it many of them would slip out of my hands. This operation was very difficult. Coz you need to have patience, you need to have a good deal of concentration and need to be highly careful, you cannot squeeze a fish or grab it roughly, all this has to be done very very tenderly. But, Pebbles, she was very calm. The moment I used to put my hand in the water, she would swim upto my palm and peck it. I would take her in my palm, and she would still remain calm. Pebbles was the best! She used to have tonnes of fun. In another incidence, I had got this really tiny, baby goldfish, and she had so much energy, so much of it, I cant explain. She would keep on swimming all across the tank. If the other fish were sleeping (I dont know when a fish sleeps as they dont have eyelids, so sleeping here relates to a fish almost motionless in a corner) she would go on bumping in them and waking them up ( waking = sudden startled movements just after the sleeping phase). She was naughty, and such a darling. So when it was time for this little monster to sleep, she would quietly swim towards pebbles, cuddle up under her and sleep. No one dared to disturb the little devil when she was with Pebbles.
In a village you have a wise man to whom everyone goes for advice, and everyone respects him and his word, Pebbles was something like that in my tank. Always calm, suave, charming and the wisest of all.
Pebbles was alive for more than a year. I remember just before dying, she bloated up and her body tilted on one side (generally happens when a fish is about to die). I knew her end had arrived, and no matter what I tried I knew she would die suffering like this, I felt very helpless. That night I took Pebbles in a separate jar, and I prayed. Prayed, that she gets well. Prayed that she doesnt suffer. But, I think, her death was end to her suffering. It really pains to see a fish just before its about to die.
Even though Pebbles is no longer with me, I still remember her, I still miss her. I am sure there was a special bond we shared, there was always something between the two of us, she was my favourite fish, the best of all! I miss you Pebbles! But, death is not the end, but a beginning! I wish Pebbles all the best for her new beginning!

Being Myself...
I dont know when was the last time i was actually myself. And even if i think of some moment when i thought that i was being myself, i later ended up contemplating and realising that actually it wasnt me.
How many times do we actually be ourselves? Each act of ours is governed by so many things, right from our companions, time, day etc etc i needn't list them down as there are millions of them.
I think the last time i actually was myself was when i was a kid. As a kid you have no worries and most importantly you dont judge your thoughts, your actions etc.
So wat is it exactly being yourself? If you look at it from a different point of view, even this judging and contemplating is a part of being yourself, because after all its you who is judging and contemplating.
But then again the question arises, that if you are actually being yourself, whats the need to judge?!
Does life has all these complexities? I doubt!
Doesnt each one of us crave to be our ownself, but in the end so many times we end up pretending or faking those emotions. So, why do we do it? Whats the need to do it? Why pretend? You are living your life for yourself not for someone else!

GARFIELD
I dont know how to start...but my day never starts without this one lazy cat..who is witty, cool, fat..oh forget the adjectives...Garfield is the BEST!

The day I dont get to meet this fellow in my morning newspaper, my day or least my morning is ruined. I am addicted to this kitty, Garfield does to me what morning cup of tea of coffee does for some people..yup he is my dose of caffeine.



I remember my brother was the one to have started this obsession with me. He used to teach me to paint and sketch and guess what was his favourite cartoon character to paint, ofcourse Garfield! And I soon followed.

I have heard, the creator of Garfield, Jim Davis, has a pet dog and not a cat. Surprising, I really admire the way he has shaped the characters of Odie and ofcourse the good looking hunk John ;) ha ha ha

I feel we love Garfield coz he is so much like us. He loves to eat and sleep! This cat really bowled me over with its wit. He is just too sharp n quick witted. N you know why he loves Pooky his teddy bear? Because he doesnt have to share his food and blanket with him...

Well thats all for now.. ciao!

DEATH!
What is death?
Why do we all fear death?
But then its a destination which we all share!
We all do fear Death, but the irony is, at the same time we take it very lightly. Its not uncommon to hear people say things like "Oh! It scared me to death!" "Dear I love you so much I can die for you!" blah blah blah... It really makes me wonder. Have you ever come face to face with death and just escaped?! If not then ask those who have. I bet they are the happiest people alive coz they are the ones who have seen death in the face and yet have escaped.

I dont mean to say, that you sit in a corner and drool over 'death'. But, think about it. Its the most uncertain and at the same time the most definite thing. It can occur anywhere, anytime and at the same time it has to come someday tomorrow, today, rather right now! It doesnt see whether you are a politician, a celebrity, a mother, a philosopher... its there. Its one of the harsh truths of life. Lets face it!

I haven't seen though but I have heard and I know its reality! What happens when a person dies? -> People cry. Why do they cry? -> Because they have lost a loved one. and so on... But mark my words "Because they have lost a loved one". Its never the sorrow of a human being's death, its always the sorrow of self pity. I might have not put it that well. I never considered myself to be really good with words. But I know you have got it. If you think you havent then hey, stop pretending!

People say "live each day as if it were your last", hah.. easier said than done..isn't it. Almost 90% of us have a monotonous life. We get up everyday, brush our teeth, have tea/coffee/milk, read newspaper, comment on Sachin's score or Mallika's dress, have a bath, eat breakfast, go to office, work, get back home, watch tv, have dinner, argue with your wife/husband/yourself, go off to sleep. Tell me where do you have the time to think that this day might be your last. Even if it was, it wont make any difference, you will be dead, people will grieve some for a month, another for a day and someone not even for a minute. Apart from all this, tell me do you even have the courage to think of what would happen if you were to die today?! I know you would shrug it off and make some interruption your excuse and complain later "Oh! I was in deep thought, when suddenly I got a very important call." I really appreciate our capability of making excuses and sometimes I have seen such lame excuses popping out of a person's mouth that I feel disgusted, man go get a life for God's sake!

So, its crystal clear, it never did and it never will make a difference to anyone when you die. They will keep on living the way they want to and why not even you would do the same and so will I, well that's the fact isnt it?!

DEATH! Really doesnt make a difference. Does it?

KAKSHI: Betelgeuse (betel juice) - Reddest star in Orion the hunter

I bet the title does hint you about my interest in stars and constellations. I think every single child (atleast in India) has grown up listening to the lullaby "Chanda mama door ke..." . Well you can attribute this as the first obsession that I had for the amazing night sky with all its mysteries.

When I was in 6th Std. studying at Rajghat Besant School, we had stars and constellations in our syllabus. All the mythical stories surrounding these constellations and how they obtained their names really interested me. Infact during our Annual day function I had chosen to present the project on stars n constellations, which was setup in our vice-principal's office. We had a huge cardboard with black chart paper and all of us had actually taken the pain to cut tiny stars from silver paper, and had stuck it on the black chart paper to depict the night sky. Each star, each constellation correctly placed. I remember there was another chart paper, again made by us, depicting the story of Andromeda, Cyprus, etc. It was very fascinating.

Before we started on the project, we used to visit Downfield (sports ground of Rajghat, its huge, multiple choppers can land there!) at night with our science teacher and study the stars and the galaxies. It was extremely fascinating and breathtakingly beautiful. I still remember when I used to see the stars I could actually see the whole story unfold in front of my eyes. All the stories of Cassiopeia (the Queen), Andromeda (the princess), Cetus (monster), Medusa were so very interesting I loved these stories not because they were great tales but just take a look at the night sky and hear the story then you will realise the true beauty of these stories.

Now Orion the Hunter was my fascination from the very beginning. I was sort of obsessed with this constellation. One day I happened to read an article about Orion the hunter and stumbled upon the name Kakshi. This name sort of struck me and I loved it I dont know why... :) Anyways so Kakshi - Betelgeuse (red like the color obtained from chewing Betel leaf - paan) the reddest star in Orion the hunter.

Its very easy to locate Orion the hunter in the night sky. When you look at the sky you will undoubtedly notice 3 bright stars in a line, they form Orion's belt. Then above those 3 stars will be Betlegeuse and Bellatrix, red and blue in color respectively, which form the hunter's shoulders. If you can picturise a human figure now it will be very easy to complete the image with bright stars marking his knees. Try it out... you will get it.

So in the image, do you see the reddest star in the top left corner? That's Kakshi. So as my first blog I didnt know which topic to write and then Kakshi came to my mind and I thought why not write about it.

The left shoulder is noticeably brighter and gleams with an orange-red color. This star's name is unforgettable - Betelgeuse, a red super giant star whose diameter is 900 times that of the Sun. With upraised club and a lion skin for a shield, mighty Orion stands ready to meet the charge of Taurus the Bull.

Betelgeuse is nearing the end of its stellar lifetime. The nuclear reactions that have long powered its energetic heart are failing. In a desperate attempt to withstand the overpowering crush of gravity, Betelgeuse is burning the last of its nuclear fuels. As a result, Betelgeuse has become a bloated, blood red giant – a star perhaps destined to die in spectacular fashion – a supernova! When a supernova explodes it violently ejects much of its mass as an expanding cloud of dust and gas. Such debris clouds are important for they eventually help create the next stellar generation. And yet, something else may be born. The shattered core could be crushed into a rapidly spinning neutron star or possibly a black hole. One day Betelgeuse will die. How it ends its life remains to be seen.

So this is the story of Kakshi.