Monday, November 30, 2009

Cute kids:What's on their mind ?

Thought of this idea. Would share some archive images from my photoblog with few facts and anecdotes to share.

These are Himachal kids. They were playing without caring the dust that banked on their faces (that made them more cute). I noted that the people care little over looks. No sunscreen at this high altitude (above 8000 ft.) Most of the people have faces sunburnt. When we went for trekking, we loaded layers of sunscreen, yet the sun managed to make our faces red. Some were unrecognisable. In the pic you could see how the kid's faces amost sunburnt.

Btw, a blog friend commented that the older kid seems to be thinking of attacking me with the hanger. What do you think. What's on their mind ?

In the Gray

Once the world was Black and White
They burned the black and saved the white

But the pressure was always there
Won't dare to be the dark
Won't dare to be in fray
For you'd be termed as black
And it would turn to be your doomsday

How convenient is today
For there's no black and white
There's only gray
There's only gray

Can dare to be in fray
And lie all the way
For nobody bothers
As they too are in one or the other fray
How easy is the gray
How easy is the gray

You kill and still stomach it
You do all wrong, don't dwell on it
Throw the money and everything's hidden
In this world of gray, it can be done, undone

Coz here no one is perfect
Only things that works is the dime, my friend
If you have it then nothing like it
You are tagged, so are others
It's the world like it

There is no black
There is no white
No one is killed
And no one is saved
Coz Its the world of gray
Its the world of gray
 by Megha

Friday, November 27, 2009

The sad news : the aftertalks

After two days, the sadness of the news of the girl has now subsided and the aftertalks have started. People are hearing new angles of it. Yesterday we got to know that the girl was five months pregnant and then the conversation started.

"She will come back" said my neighboring aunty.  And almost everyone in the house nodded.

"She will" they said.

"Not necessary" I objected. A conversation is not good without opposition, as it is I am always alleged for opposing, whatever be it.

"What are you saying. The girl had not even completed half of her life. Wouldn't her atma(soul) be restless ? Off course she will come back"

"She should come back and teach these people a lesson" my aunt said, I couldn't make out if her words meant a revenge or the thrill.

"She will not. It's not always that every a victim comes back" I refuted.

"OK. SHE WILL NOT COME" my mom said irritated.

"I was just telling my views" I surrendered.

Then the other stories poured in. Everyone had at least one. I remember when I was in engineering, one lady had burnt herself in the toilet. There were talks that the husband and in laws did it. For the whole year the family slept with the lights on. This I can account for. I saw the home always lit, even in the midnight. (Now you would ask, what I did in the midnight ? I was studying. Did I peek in their house ? No, they lived in the next building, I could see their windows )

"Remember Shaila" the same curious aunty asked my mom. She was talking about a lady who died two decades ago.

"She burnt herself. And everyone thought she'll come back.But she never did" I could feel the disappointment in her tone. I imagined the neighbours waiting earnestly for days that something would happen in their neighbor but it didn't. (There are such neighbours too, is it funny ?)

Human nature is really weird. How at one time when people were so sorry for the poor girl, now they were engrossed in stories told and untold. Nobody wants to miss even a bit of it (I confess here, that includes me too).

Thursday, November 26, 2009

26/11 A tribute to the brave-hearts


(courtesy IBN Live)

Day : 26/11/2008

Time : Evening

We all were at home, doing something or the other. Our neighbour comes and almost shouts at my sister "Do you know terrorist have attacked your hotel ?" We gave a puzzled look at her. "What ?" my sister managed to say. She works in Finance department of The Oberoi. "Switch on the tv. They are firing haywire, killing and holding hostages..."

The phone calls started pouring in to ask if my sister is fine. Thank God she was. Then we remembered a girl, once our neighbor, who worked for the call centre of The Oberoi. We called her at her residence. She was fine. We sighed. There were news about blasts and firing. We slept hearing all those and praying for the mayhem to end. But it continued the next day too. I reached my office. I was surprised to see mails from our Client's (Netherland) colleagues asking if everyone was safe. They were hooked to the news, also praying for the end of it. When I traveled back to home, I was surprised to see the usual populace in the trains. The incident hadn't made any changes to our life. Here I was traveling while the brutal terrorist were still firing in the Taj and Oberois, and so were the other public. Whatever happens, Mumbaikars can take anything. I can't decide if it's good or bad. The spirit is almost unshaken.

When I reached home, I found out that my sister had got a call from her employers that there would be leave till further notice. She also got to know the account of her friend's experience who work in shifts for the call center at the hotel. They were oblivious to the attack outside. Some staff came running to them and took them outside safely from the backdoor.

After a few days when my sister resumed work, she had lots of stories to tell, some of death while some of bravery. There were many stories to tell but one post wouldn't be enough. She told us how they entered, how people were rescued, how some unfortunate ones got trapped, how the whole building was ruined by bullets and the indelible blood stains everywhere, even the strongest of cleansing acid failed to remove it's presence. She told us that actually the terrorist were aiming at the new Oberoi tower and not the old Oberoi, but they got mislead between the passages from the hotel lobby. The stories of the restaurants almost shook us.
The hotel staff were instructed not to spill a word to the media and the hotel resumed it's work with a holy puja.

After all this suffering of the victims, their family and also those watching, I heard the most ridiculous statement ever. "Big cities faces these kind of small problems", said our Mr. home minister mocking the bravery of our soldiers.

After a few days when we visited my maushi's place (maternal aunt) my cousins who are kids in 4th and 1st standard were full of questions. They bombarded them to my sister one by one. I remember few years back when there were serial blasts in Mumbai trains, my young cousin was terrified with just the news. The younger didn't understood the impact but the older one was terribly shaken. She refused to go anywhere nearby a railway station. This is the effect of the attacks that we cope with but the young minds couldn't.

Even though the ministers were ridiculous over the whole thing, I salute the soldiers and the hotel staff who made the brave attempts to rescue the guests from the hotel restaurants and rooms without a second thought.

I salute the brave-hearts and pray a good life for them!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The sad news

Yesterday my neighbour came to our house with a news that made me burn under my skin. A relative of hers who live in the society next to ours ended her life drinking phenyl.

It was 14th Feb this year, Valentine’s day that they registered their love into marriage. She hadn’t even completed one year. It’s was such an acidic news that we all were rocked. The girl was just 25-27 years old and earning. It’s said that she had problems with her mother-in-law. And this was the second time she attempted suicide. The phenyl turned her whole body black.

What moved me the most is that in spite being educated, she considered the option of ending life than thinking of any other possibility. There might be some big problems she might be facing that we can’t imagine, but still, I would never understand the decision of the victims of killing themselves.

She could have returned to her parent’s place. But I have even heard about parents who are not willing accept divorced daughters back to family, mostly in case of love marriages.

Even the husband is partly to be convicted, ethically. It’s the responsibility of the husband too to protect his wife.

And the victim herself is also to be held guilty. There are always more than one options other than ending life. But accepting the travail of the depressed and harassed victim, it’s also the moral responsibility of the parents or friends to show her the positive light to life.

Once I overheard my mother, who was telling my neighbouring aunty about some lady whom she met in the market. She had a black eye. When asked she told it was just an accident. My mom was saying that it wasn't the first time and everyone knows about how bad her husband and in-laws beat her, and even her parents knows it.

I have come to a conclusion that our society is just producing degree certificate holders, the numbers increasing rapidly. And the truth is that only few of these are really getting cultured.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Breaking the chains

Wassup ?

Howz life ?

I am beginning to hate these question.How silly these question seems to me looking at my current daily agenda. It’s nothing but just home-office-home chores. While at home, either I am watching TV or reading novel, and office is about completion of assignments just because they have to be delivered by the planned date. I hardly see any excitement in all this.

Tired of the boring days that I happen to just pass, I complained to my mom a number of times, “I am bored. I want to do something”. And my mom had been embarrassing me with her perfunctory response, “Then do something”.

Thanks to the book and my photo blog that I could spend at some time on them, at least they give me a momentary break.

When things grow mundane, even ideas seems to be lost and you are short of blog posts. But how creative I am to make this itself a post. {haha :) Even this is creativity, i believe}

I think I am stuck in the mechanical clock, I need to jump out of it and do something. You see ? it’s a deadlock, how I came back to the same question, do something, now what is this something ?

Probably I should rekindle my long-left hobbies. The thought of painting is taking shape in my mind. I think I should do it..

Saturday, November 21, 2009

The White misty beauty

I wanted to share this beautiful image of the Himalaya

It was the day we had to trek to Dhundi, Himachal Pradesh, India and camp there for two nights. But when we got up, we were surprised by the sudden turn of events. It was raining heavily and the Himalayas looked misty with snowfall. I was very happy not too long as we were informed that we could camp only if it stops raining. I took a couple of pics. It looked beautiful. Luckily it stopped raining by the end of the day and we could camp for one night.

Friday, November 20, 2009

When you feel all alone

However we try to dissociate the role of luck in our life, one cannot deny it's prominence in finding Love and Friend. Not everyone gets a friend who always understands you, who's always there for you, in sad and happy moments. Isn't it ?

Crash and Burn - by Savage Garden
When you feel all alone
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone

When you feel all alone
And a loyal friend is hard to find
You're caught in a one way street
With the monsters in your head
When hopes and dreams are far away and
You feel like you can't face the day

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone

'Cause there has always been heartache and pain
And when it's over you'll breathe again
You'll breath again

When you feel all alone
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please
To tame your wild wild heart

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone

Whenever I listen to the song, I realize an empty space in my life. Everyone wants a friend whom you can call anytime, share your happy moments and nightmares, who takes interest in your interests, who's just a thought away. The stronghold of friendship is tested with distance. I realized how distance affected in my friendship, close friends loose touch. We meet new people wherever go, our lives change, and people move on.
But in all this, how beautiful will it be to have a friend who's the common factor in all our life's path. Over the time, whenever you would think back, you see one person always with you. Those who have such a friend, are very lucky, hold on the precious gift!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Stolen Moments : Waves

It was early December. The night was dark and cool. The beach was deserted and desolated. The shore was lit dimly and discreetly by the houses along the curve. The sea was hidden in the darkness, only the sound of splashing waves could be heard. The cool breeze flew in her room with the salty fragrance inviting her towards itself.

She found it too appealing not to venture out. She decided she would just trail near the old house. It was safe but still she feared the stark darkness and desolation. She stepped out. The cool breeze was hitting her bringing her goosebumps. As she moved away from the shore the sound of the waves grew more prominent, more inviting. She could feel the sand getting wet and soft. She stood in the cold water, waiting for the sand to swamp her feet in it like she used to do in her childhood. The white surf calmly came and washed her feet. It was a beautiful feeling and suddenly she missed the feet, also merging in the sand beside her. For some moments she kept looking at the sand to her left wishing the gap to fill.

She got a peck on her cheeks. She turned. He garlanded his hands around her neck. Her eyes widened. "Adi", she was about the yell but he gagged her with his hand. "Shh...we are closer to home.  Let's go there" he pointed towards the old fort. They walked, she ahead of him, his hands still around her neck.

"So now you got time from your friends ? You must be missing them na ?" she said sarcastically.
"I have invited them here. I need to look what they need and all"
"But.." before she could say, he said down and pulled her down.
"Are you going to spoil such a beautiful atmosphere by quarreling"
"No" she said softly pulling the word long.

They sat holding hands, cuddling, watching the moon and stars. The trawlers were few and far than usual as if they too want the two to be alone. The light house on the old fort threw light over the waves making it sparkle as and when it blinked.

The air was getting colder. He pulled her closer and said softly, "I want you to say it again".  "What?" she said with a naughty smile. He didn't say, just smiled. She looked around as if suddenly realizing that they are in open. There was no one around and the long hunched trees seemed to have hunched more to hear her. He could see that she was blushing, her cheeks were red and eyes watery. He couldn't stop smiling and admiring her.

Her words were lost in the wind as the only trawler who lit up suddenly by the lighthouse was waving them for it's new journey and wishing for the best life journey of the new wedded couple.

P.S : This is my first venture in Romantic genre, I hope it's good. I just couldn't think of the a name for this post. Could you ?

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Books : Unsatisfied

The White Tiger’ by Arvind Adiga & ‘Unaccustomed Earth’ by Jhumpa Lahiri was what I was reading in past few weeks.

When I started with The White Tiger, I had much expectations from the Man Booker prize winner than what it actually delivered. It started off well. The life of a poor in the village, burdened and hopelessness was stirring, but as the story moved it lost the steam. At one point I inadvertently closed it dashing the hardcover between both hands and uttered 'Disgusting'. Maybe that's what the author was up to, to make the disgusting facts reach the readers.

It was good in bits and pieces. At times it made me curious and at times chuckle but otherwise it was monotonous.

The next I took in hand was the ‘Unaccustomed Earth’. As I reached half way, I was waiting for it to end. The book has short stories where the protagonist is an NRI(mostly Bengali) and the story revolve about his/her life in the foreign land. Probably the reason I didn't like it is because I found it little incongruous or little different  to read Indian living the American way. Actually that's the soul of the book, but I was unable to connect. Or probably I should have picked some thriller before starting with Unaccustomed Earth after the monotonous The White Tiger.

Has anybody read these ? What's your view ?

Whatever. Now I want something light. So started with ‘Catch-22’.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Harnai trip

Few weeks back, we got an invitation from Mama(Maternal uncle). He had built a resort Ocean Palace in his village, Harnai and wanted us to join the inauguration ceremony.  It's a 2-floored hotel, registered in MTDC tourism, just on the sea shore, with beautiful view of the sea, the fort, the trawlers that are seen lined up at the horizon.

The trawlers have a story that I picked up from mama. It's a fixed schedule for them. They leave the shore early morning for the deep sea. By evening they are back with tons of fish. On the shore the fish would be out for an auction. Once the business is over, money is in hand, they would see if there's any fixes needed for their artifact, diesel, shovel, stove or anything that may require when they are off-shore, buy them and off they are the next morning. This is their life. It goes on this way for years. The big sale is bought by the export guys. We were strolling on the shore. When we reached this market, the rate going on was around Rs. 29,000. It's a big market and it's interesting to see small-to-big fishes out for sale by individual kolis(fishermen caste) to the big business guys.  (Courtesy : Amruta )

At the beach, there are two forts. While one is away from the shore, the other is connected and has a Lighthouse. The later one is spot for tourist & local's to hang out. It was too dark for my camera to take a pic of this fort.

There are interesting places around the village. Few that we visited are -
1. Kadecha ganapati, Anjarle

After a drive of about 45 minutes from Harnay on snakey roads of the Ghats and then a river(earlier one only had to cross by ferry), one reaches a secluded village called Kade gaav. The temple, the deserted road, the dense trees around, the twisted roads along the edges of the ghats, are quite enthralling.

2. Chandika devi, Dabhol

We drove another Ghat to reach a famous temple of Chandika. During Navratri, people wait for days in queue to reach the shrine, but being off-season, we got entry in just few seconds. It is a small cave without electrical lights, lit up by Samayis (bronze diyas). As you reach her, you are astounded by the idol of Chandika, with big face and eyes. Around the temple are some houses, most of the area is covered by forest. Looking at the dried up way, I think that this place will be very interesting during the monsoons.

3. Dabhol harbour, Dabhol

We drove from Chandika Devi temple to Dabhol ferry wharf. Destination was Veldur village across the bight. It was after so many years that I sat in a ferry. I was happy and my camera picking every good sight.

Some interesting places we'd missed -
1. Enron, Veldur village

We just saw the Enron plant from the ferry. We walked all the way from the wharf to our old neighbor. It was the traditional house with dense gardening around it. My granny who was with us went around to see the trees educating me with the names and their uses. It was a medical garden, I would say.

The uncle asked us to stay for the day so that he could take us the next day to Enron. But since we had to leave for Mumbai the next day, we had to miss. He told us about the place, the jungle on his way, and also about the wild animals including tigers that roam about in the jungle.

2. Murud Harnai, Harnai
Murud Harnai has a beautiful, serene beach, Coconut and Supari groves. It had the highest priority on my wish-list. But dad fell ill due the heat, and we had to stay back at the hotel. Mama had brought a big fish Surmai for lunch that day. I must say, It was very tasty and compelled us to pack it for Mumbai too.

Just two days, and I had a blast. A very good place for a weekend getaway.

NOTE : If you are traveling by car, I would say you need a driver who can drive on the twisted roads of the Ghats.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009


From past few weeks we were been bombarded with the Maoist news. The old enemy turned fierce now. Termed terrorist, they are now serious danger by the Home minister realized. Pakistan, the insurgents, the terrorist were the ones that pose threat till then, now another name with them, the Maoist, targeting everyone.

The Maoist, they are our own country people, turned our enemy. They have to be dealt. But shouldn't the cause that creates Maoist be dealt also ?


And now in the news had been the Marathi verses Bihari. While I write this article I won't deal with the language propaganda, but will just talk about my motherland, Mumbai.

Over years, Mumbai have grown with economically and culturally with people of different states coming together. But in past years, things have changed. The darker side of the city grew more darker. The placid streets started filling with filth. And over the years, the city grew filthier and filthier. Thanks to slums and migration and politicians and their sick vote bank politics.

Have you seen the old Doordarshan advertisement ?
There's a glass jar on the table. One puts a tomato in it, then another, then another. Then he tightens the lid. What happens ? The tomatoes are crushed inside spilling the red juice.

It's the same with the city, my Mumbai. Mumbai has crossed this stage...I would back anyone who stands with the city against the population explosion. But that looks incorrect for many people. I don't back MNS or Shiv sena. For them it's mere politics. But I back the cause.

You would say, India is free country and anyone can travel anywhere.That's true. I repeat, I back the cause, but cannot tolerate illegal occupancy. Now lets take this case. You are happily living in Mumbai. One day you step out of home, and find that there's a shanty on the pavement of your society. Would you try to call BMC and raze it ? Yes, then I back it. Or No, it'll be inhumane ? Then beware, the next day you'll find another shanty beside it. Then another. You'll see them grow in blink of your eye. It will be their permanent place, you cannot do anything but watch the place getting filthier,  the slum people eating, sleeping, washing just there, their children without clothes, running here and there. And beware, while you drive, make sure your car finds our the way even as the kids don't budge, else be prepared to give away the ransom they would demand after....How does it sound ?

Awful, right ? Then how come that when somebody stands against this, he is called inhumane ?


In all this, the main problem stays behind. Why in the first place people have to leave their homeland ? The answer is the same as Maoist. Rich verses Poor.  Ucha verses Neech. Poor get poorer in the Northern India, under the burden of rich. Who can they look up to for help ? The corrupted officials ? The corrupted politicians who support migration but cannot do a bit for helping the locals to get a job in their own home state ?

The problem stays and the wound remains unattended...

Saturday, November 07, 2009


This post is dedicated to the brighter younger generation of today. Last weekend I went to my mama's (maternal uncle) place to give the Diwali sweets.

The first thing I did after entering the house is to place my cell phone to some secret place, out of my cousin's reach. My cousins are young kids in 7th and 4nd standard. No sooner they rushed in somehow they got hands on my papa's cell phone. Then began their exploration.

We had finished our meal and everyone was having the afternoon nap. My cousins were beside me, fighting for the cell phone, thinking it was mine.

She is not giving me the phone. She had it for long time. You tell her to give me the phone now, the elder complained.

I'll give you the phone for some time, but you will not give it back, I know, the younger retaliated.

So I intervened and took the phone from little Ria, who was playing songs and clicking random photos of whatever she got sight on.

I handed it to Swapnil and warned to take care of it. In no time, I found that he had explored almost all features of the phone. He had transferred the songs that he liked via Bluetooth to mama’s phone, added other details like address etc to mama & mami's contact, played games and scored highest, and then in few minutes he was talking about the different Mobile services that have now entered the market.

Dad is going to purchase new Docomo card. But the service is not good, he was said to me.

Many people have loop, he continued. I was amazed by this kid. Later my mami told me that my other uncle usually come to Swapnil when something goes wrong in his mobile.

Gosh! These are no more kids! They are kidults! Guess what would be the future generation ?

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Diwali colors

The Forsaken took all of my Diwali and days after the festival. I am still under the mental transition from Story mode to casual blogging mode. The Forsaken was a long story and somehow my mind(blogging) got adjusted to it. Now I have to extricate mind from it.

So to start with, I am posting some of the Rangolis that we(my sisters & I) made in Diwali. Though this comes after a long time after Diwali, please bear with me, as I said I am unwinding from story mode and this is the simplest thing I can do.

So here's the creativity from my sisters (and myself, I guess self-praise is ok sometimes).







I had participated in a Rangoli competition in our office. Here's it. I didn't win, the prize went to the one with Global warming theme. I should have known :(

And this one's on "Tulshi cha lagna"(Marathi)/ "Tulsi Vivah". I don't know how many Indians do have this ritual. But in Maharashtra, it is celebrated with the ceremony of wedding Tulsi to Krishna. We do the pooja and the magalashtaka like what we do in real wedding. It's ambivalent day for the Pundits coz people are on hunt to find one who would do the puja, the pundits are on their toes this day.

Tulshi cha lagna is awaited day by all, coz it comes after few days of Diwali. After a span of days, people come down to streets again, lighting the crackers they had kept apart for the last day.

It is also marked with sadness as it's the last day of Diwali, last day of Indian festivals that would then start only the next year, last day of making Rangolis, last day of the crackers, last day of the lantern, last day of hand-painted diyas. Oh! The festival is such a beautiful festival. Like we used to do say in childhood days, I love Diwali very much!

Monday, November 02, 2009

The Forsaken - Part 10

The day passed with discussion about possibilities, concerns and solutions.

Next day arrived. It was evening. The grandmother had already placed the diary in its usual place. This time the water with medicine was absent, it was not required in the presence of the doctor Vikram and doctor Natasha. Nikhil was in his room. After their past attempt, he was very disturbed, plaintive, the very reason why the grandmother was turning cold shoulder on the doctor. This would be his last chance and he was already feeling the pressure. They were chatting in the living room when they heard the sound.


He was walking in the compound towards the school. With every step, the loathly memories were clawing in. The compound was dark, deserted. He was walking on the empty portico. Somebody called his name. It came from a distant classroom. He entered inside. It was partly lit, somewhat dark. In the corner was someone standing. He knew the face but today it was a different visage. He felt uncomfortable.

'Sir ?' said the child as he went near him. Then the door was shut. He turned to see another teacher. They were moving towards him....

He could see a face in the window. But he was gagged, his tears screamed for help but only in vain. Abused and anguished, he was shrieking. 'Dare you tell anyone. You will be thrown out of this place. And then where will you go ? Up in the sky to your parents ?' they barked with a cruel laugh. Their eyes expelled fire. He was thrown at the corner. It was grotesque sight. He was torn. Every one was bad. Cruel. The whole world.


The three rushed in the room. The sight was not new to the old women but still painful, ad so was for the doctors to see the calm boy sleeping in the bed just a few minutes ago, turning into this tragic . Vikram had always been emotionally detached to his patients but it was difficult for Natasha. He clutched her shoulder, she looked at him. He nodded, she tried to regain her poise. She nodded. Nikhil had coiled himself and it was her turn to deliver.

'Nikhil', she shouted. 'I will help you. You are not alone. I will trash them'. And she banged the log she had in her hand. Tearing the air she was pulling the log from high head to down. She was thrashing the cruel monsters, it came with vengeance, naturally.


The voice took his attention, the face hiding earlier was out. The girl crept out. But she was now a woman. She had something in her hand. 'I will trash them', she was saying. Her eyes were ogling fire. As the two devils were turning to look what's happening, she brought down the log on their heads. They fell down holding their heads, crying for help. There were series of blow. She was cursing them, trashing. They were groaning. Nikhil was right there, watching in disbelief.

He watched them passing out or perhaps passing away. She was tired, the log fell from her hand, as she stood gasping for breadth.

The memories were dead. The teachers were dead. They will not return. They were killed. The revenge was taken. ...There was someone who cared. He was not alone.
He stood there for sometime looking at her and then ran towards her and embraced her, almost squeezing her.


He came running and clutched her. He didn't say a word. He didn't had to. The message was conveyed. The monsters were killed. The dark night had passed, it was a new dawn, and a new Nikhil was born. She gently stroked her hand on his back. 'Those days are gone. Forget every bad memory. I am your friend. I am there for you'. He clutched her even tighter.

Doctor Vikram and grandmother stood there watching them. Fear was replaced by smiles. Vikram could see the happiness on Grandmother's face. She blessed all three in her mind.


'Just one thing', she said as they stepped out of the house. Something was troubling her. 'I fear, if ever there was any girl present at that time, I fear what she might be going through today'

He knew it could be true. But then they weren't sure. He had some comforting answer, 'She might not even exist. I'll start the therapy and Nikhil will be fine. Anyway. All's well that ends well. Thanks Natasha'. They were by Vikram's car. He would drop Natasha to her home, as he had been doing from past few days. 'Congratulations', she said to him. There was warmth and gratification in her voice. They were lost as their eyes met. Nikhil had brought closer. She hugged him. Tomorrow will be bright day, for all.

The End

Sunday, November 01, 2009

The Forsaken - Part 9

Her face was red so were her eyes, swollen telling about the sleepless night. She handed the diary to the doctor. Yesterday after few hours she went back to Nikhil. He was lying on bed, his innocent face screamed for rescue. She stayed there for the rest of the night, gently caressing his face.

'How is Nikhil ?' the doctor asked, rebounding her back from the memories. She chose to be silent. The doctor got the answer. She was angry with herself and everyone for what her grandchild was suffering from.  He opened the diary and read. Nikhil had completed their sentence.


Yes, I was close. He had seen Nikhil's expression change when he had uttered the word school. And then the bang, he said in mind. He knew the coming challenge he has to face alone as he thought wouldn't be good to involve the old lady into the darker side of Nikhil's life.





These were plain words, but the doctor could understand the painful feelings Nikhil was going as a child, alone, abused.  He needed to free Nikhil from the arrest of these dreadful memories. He needed to change what happened. He needed to rescue Nikhil from the past.

He wrote on the last page, WE ENTERED IN. His idea was to make Nikhil feel that he was not alone.

But who would do it ? A new entry could be risky, we don't know how Nikhil would consider him. Then something ticked. He punched a number on his cellphone.

In just twenty minutes, Natasha was in the clinic. Her professional yet humble face was at once consented by the old woman. She was introduced as a psychiatrist and a close friend. After introduction, the old woman left as they might take few hours to discuss, but the truth was that they wanted to keep her away from the dark matter.

Nikhil's story had overwhelmed her and she was furious on how the dark crimes enter one's life at such a small age. A kid who doesn't even know the word has to go through such a trauma. With all the previous sad memories and then the abuse, Nikhil could have come out of it, but only with some elderly love and support. She was cursing the teachers while the doctor stayed silent till she calmed down.

He explained to her that a new entry could be risky she he decided to use the woman's charachter Nikhil had been writing in his diary. He never wrote negative about her, perhaps he admired her.  Maybe we can never understand who she is, but for now she can help us. Natasha nodded. She was ready to help. She had just to deliver the dialogues when the time comes...

P.S. Following Part will be the concluding one.