Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Smile and close your eyes…

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On the no moon night
When it's darker around

You see twinkle in someone's eyes
And hear the cheer in the sound

Though the twinkle is for someone else
And the laughter not for you

It gives you steel strength
And a new hope lights in you

You feel the tears in your eyes
And prayer out your lips you hear

Someone’s happiness gives you hope
Their love brings you cheer

You see today is not yours
But tomorrow will come

And the twinkle in your eyes return
And the sadness in your voice gone

It's true happiness is contagious
And you can steal some

You have the right to be happy
And you have the right to claim love.

- Megha

Sunday, December 01, 2013

Seasons

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 44; the forty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
It was when the hot tears fell on her hand that she realised she was crying. The hot tears dripped from her hand to the paper her trembling fingers were holding. The already blotched words were now a patch of blue. It wasn't the first time she was reading it. Her eyes had shed tears for hours when she read it over and over while trying to find a word or two of solace. But there were none. Every word was filled with admonition and estrangement that stabbed deeper into her heart. There was no reason to save such a hateful letter but she kept it. It was kind of companion. She read it whenever there were times of adversity. Somehow the letter of hatred provided strength to stand against the problems of life of a single woman. It was not the only reason why she kept it closer. The letter reminded her that everything in life is temporary and whatever you are in, good or bad, will pass. But over months the tears dried up and with every word and every curve of the cursive handwriting carved in her head, she could read it as a matter of fact. But today, here she was, crying. Because, times change and sometimes the words too. And most important, it was last letter from him.
 
She took another look at the SMS she had received from him five minutes ago. She couldn't believe her eyes. She read and reread the name at the end of the message. The contents of the SMS were lost over the time taken for the news to actually seep inside, that it was indeed from her estranged husband. It shook her deep and only after half and hour or so that she was stable and could make out the sentence from the dancing words. At first it all seemed like a joke, one that time has thrown at her for its own amusement. But after reading for a dozen times that she felt the hope rising inside. But if it was some joke then she knew she will never recover from it alive. Still, casting aside all the doubts, she loosened the hold on hope and after days of sadness, today, with eyes swollen, tears overflowing, her lips smiled unbound, trembling with overflowing emotion. It is true, they were whispering. He is coming back. To me. As if bursting with emotions, her hands rose to her face and she cried like a child, aloud. They were tears of happiness. Of hope. And of emotion of being with whom you love. Again.
 
It was 5:00 pm and she had tried all her best to be ready, with the beautiful Benarasi sari that he had gifted on her birthday. Though trying hard her hands fumbled as she tied her hair. But all was in vain, she was incompetent this moment, her  whole body shaking with apprehension. She looked into the mirror and saw a messed up woman. Her eyes black with the kajal smudged around as the tears refused to stop. She looked away. And then, the bell rang.
 
It rang a second time. And then a third time. She listened to it rooted on the bed, her body still shaking. Her mobile started ringing flashing his name. Her heart was filled up with a mix of happiness and fear for this could be the last time. She wanted to believe what her lips were whispering. Go! They said. He is here for you. And trusting them that she stood and went to the door.
There he was, just the same as he was when he had left, handsome, eyes innocently enquiring. Even today he could make her weak with his one look. She could feel fresh stream of tears coming out of her eyes so she turned around.
 
Shona, she gasped at the word she had just heard. It was in the privacy of the walls of their bedroom that Mayur called her Shona. She turned and stared at him expectantly. She wanted to slap him, hurt him but all she did was stand there, like a beggar, waiting and expecting little alms of love.
 
I am sorry, he said. Will you forgive me? She felt the weight of the words prodding her. Betraying her mind which was asking him for reasoning and penance, she felt her heart going out to him and saw herself nodding and hands stretched out to him.
 
Tears welled in his eyes and the next moment he was in her arms. They clutched together, their minds tumbling in the waves of emotions. Why did you let me go?, he asked crying like a child which made her cry the more, repeating how much he love her. You left me abandoned me. I hate you, she said holding him closer. I won't let you go. I won't, she said. Never let me go, he reverberated, the words making little sense. They were locked in the embrace, eyes flowing, making new promises. Their fingers fumbled over the faces, wiping each other’s tears. They at once knew this embrace was their life. They are one and inseparable. They held each other filling the emptiness time had bored in the mind, with unconditional love, until he took her beautiful face in his hand and kissed.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 16 Credits Image - Love in the air by Anand Courtesy - Apple Blossom's Photography via www.blogaton.in

Sunday, November 03, 2013

Light

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 43; the forty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "LIGHT"
Being in vacuum must be nothing less than what it’s here now. The emptiness. The darkness, blatant and still. Shocked, I brought my hand to my face but saw nothing. My heart sank in that miserable fear of going blind. If it was a joke it wasn't funny. 
Even though its wasn't wise to guess, my mind was pacing, making wild guesses. I could smell the stillness in air, nothing less than death. Something in me tells me I am alone but another part of me could feel presence of something, like in wait, of something or someone.
 
Tired of holding breath, I sigh. The air was damp and cold. The water precipitating on my face trickled down my neck. By now hostility had percolated into my blood and sweat and I was shivering, more from fear than cold. As I took a step forward my feet touched water. It sunk. In mud. Yes. it was mud. I could smell it, the earthly damp smell. I took few more steps I don't know why. Why was I here?

I couldn't see anything but I kind of visualised. A riverbed empty of water due to low tide leaving behind the swampy mud. The bony tree structures crowded along the bank. Some trees throwing its branches towards the river almost reaching its center. There could be a bird perched on it. An owl or vulture or maybe there was none. All this rolling in my head. I could have been on mars too.
 
All of this was extra ordinary. It was the absence of light and sound that terrified me. That's when I heard something. A movement. In the far, I saw a point of light, a tiny spectacle. For some reason I anticipated treat. It was approaching, faster, the sound growing, wilder, the source of light growing, faster, stronger. I turned and began to run, looking over shoulders, seeing it catch me up faster. And then tearing the silence, came a wild scream, more like growl. It filled the air and I felt sharp pain in my ears, as if I'd turned deaf. And then the light took over and blinded me. And I screamed till my lungs blew out. I woke up, screaming but without sound, choked up, gasping for air. 
 
I ran my hands over my face. I was drenched in sweat. I could see my hands and I could hear my husband breathing beside me. I hadn’t turned blind or deaf. I felt relieved that I hadn't woke him up. I tried to sleep but it was like an impossible task now. But something had changed in me.
 
As the moment passed, the feeling of fear was gone, replaced by something else. More of anxiety. More of wariness. It was the second time I had dreamt the dream. What was it about?
 
*
 
Next morning, the door bell rang. Through the peep hole I could see it was Riki, my best friend. I stood there grounded, unable to decide whether to open the door or not. She’d called me hundred times but I watched each of it turn to missed call. I can’t face her. With with tears in eyes I turned and ran to the bedroom. When I saw myself in the mirror, shame swept through me. This isn't me!
 
*
 
That night I saw the dream again. I was back in the swamp. But this time I was aware, as if I was there for a reason, to solve the quest. It was pitch dark as earlier and the air was cold. There was absolute silence. The only sound I could hear was my own heavy breathing. I tasted salt in my mouth. And realised I was crying. My heart was sinking as if somewhere deep down, the unconscious knew what all this was about.
 
I took few more steps, like the salty tears giving me some strength. And I looked around in search of the source of light. And then the sound alarmed me, again. Then there was movement. The light appearing. Growing. The object moving closer, making the sound. This time I recognised it. It was sound of an animal. It was of alligator. My heart picked speed. I turned against the sound and started running, the sticky mud holding me back, making me stumble. The sound and the light was fast and growing. And then I don’t know why but I stopped and turned, to face it. I hearing myself saying out loud, being brave or being stupid?
 
But there I was looking into the light through mace of my hands, too bright for me to see the animal. But I sensed it coming. And with the wild growl, I saw it. I saw it. Large. It's heavy long tail moving stealthily. And the light kind of magnified it. It was huge. It opened its mouth and flashed its large teeth. I screamed. But then it happened. The light projected in curve passing by the animal. And instead of the animal I saw him. My husband. Laughing like growling. With the eyes of alligator and long pointed teeth wanting to taste me. But. I smiled. Like finally it’s known, to me. This is it. All the time I knew but buried it down, not wanting to face the truth. Truth! I woke up.
 
He was snoring beside me. I rushed away from my husband and ran to the bathroom. I threw water over my face. The woman in the mirror was furious as if questioning me. Her left eye black with the violence. She was in pain. She had to bear it everyday and stay mum. But today, I say sorry to her, it had been difficult to take the decision. But now I am ready. I no longer feel shame but only anger swell in me. But I calm myself down. It’s time to begin again. There was only one person I would call. Riki. And like a good friend, she picks on the first ring. I sigh and the words fall out of my mouth, “Thank you”
 
P.S: To see an alligator in your dream symbolizes treachery, deceit, and hidden instincts. It may be a signal for you to take on a new perspective on a situation. To dream that you are running away from the alligator, indicates that you are unwilling to confront some painful and disturbing aspect of your unconscious. There is some potentially destructive emotion that you are refusing to acknowledge and
owning up to. [dream definition courtesy – dreammoods.com]
 
P.P.S: I know this post seems very out of place on Diwali. I tried to write something on the festival but I simply couldn’t. So I stuck with the story.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 15

Sunday, October 06, 2013

The corner chair

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 42; the forty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "COLOR"
There you are on the other table
Yesterday you were across mine
How we were together
Like pepper and salt in style

Was it my imagination?
No, I believed it was our fate
Yea we were inseparable
We were called Romeo and Juliet

Now when I look back
I see you never said you love me
I lived in dreams day and night
Created new world around you and me

One day you were gone
With no hint or goodbye
And now I see you on other table
Looking like young and naive

It couldn't be this way
I lost what was not mine?
Sitting in the prison of guilt
Could loving someone be a crime?

I sit in this corner
Wishing I am not seen
But trying hard not to blink
Maybe,our eyes will meet

You talk the words to her
Were they same you said to me?
Yea they were so lovely
Still echo in my head sweetly

I watch your eyes look in hers
I wish they turn to me
The person stuck in my head screaming
Is you heart made of steel

I watch you talk to her all smiles
I wish you turn and come to me
But my heart stops with the loss
As you get up and leave

I know its my last glance of you
The game over as you rolled the dice
The once coloured frame of us
Has turned pale black and white

The beautiful days are gone
The future of us stolen
Now its me and memories
Abandoned in this lonely chair in corner.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 14

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Stop.


Stop. Take a detour.                                   

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Memories

This rain and the dampness
Lonely sole in this forest dense
Brings back our memories
My heart wails in your absence

The fog takes me back to time
When we used to cross this trail
Hand in hand we used to walk
Never I thought it was so frail

I gave it all I can
Tried to mend all mistakes
Maybe they were not so small
That you decided it to break

Year after year
I visit this place
In the name of getting over
I relive our beautiful days

~ Megha

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Fright and flight

 

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 40; the fortieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "MAKE A WISH"

Make a wish
Alluded the ball of glass bright
Snow flew inside it
And violin playing light

It was a beautiful thing
Lucky to stumble on
Never was I asked
To wish anything on mind

Now was the time
To ask for everything
Make dreams come true
And drop all withering

But there was so much to ask
And so difficult to begin
Hundreds of desires
Will I get what’s not my fate

What do I really want and need
Rose the question
When I blamed society
I was the tangled one

What's for me
And what's not right
Quest I searched all time
Answer I can only find inside

But my mind only chattered
Inside was a big chaos
It was the frightful fair
Where I was miserably lost

I wanted answers
But it looked impossible
The more I tried
I got only more tangled

I lost it and gave up
And threw the glass ball
I need no wonders
But to let go of all

The pressure relaxed
And mind gained calm
That's what I want
Clear mind like the wish ball

Calm like sacred lake
And vastness of dark night
Life becomes Wonders
And freedom and flight

All you have to do
Is forget every fear
Know just one thing
Let go. Just let go dear.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 12

Monday, July 15, 2013

The storm


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Sometimes days after the story is concluded
Comes a restless evening
When the silent winds blow
Carrying the words of painful ending
 
You think of the reason
That changed two lives
It was necessary to separate
Love had to pay the price
 
Was it early to give in
Never in mind this question arose
It was beautiful and alive
But they buried it like bag of bones
 
It was mutual and sensible
Life is about moving on both said
They dumped all the memories in a box
And pushed in unused room at the end
 
It was past and forgotten
Moving on they had decided
And their lives had moved on
It was easy to be separated than united
 
They lived what was expected of them
Always happy they looked
Conveniently ignorant of the dark room
And the box that was locked
 
Their mind had forgotten about the past
And every one thing about the time
It was a way of defence
To separate from the pain in mind
 
But it was not so simple and easy
And an evening came when a storm blew
The doors and boxes crumbled
The hidden memories drew
 
They pass the corridor
And reach the once secured you
Standing at the door
They challenge and threaten you
 
There is no more pretension
Finally you accept them
You give yourself to the memories
Although sad you feel truthful to self again
 
You know it was not a good decision
And moving on was farce
You could only think of one thing
If she is in the same place as yours
 

P.S. I could not think of a good title. I am so bad at it. I always end up spending more time in thinking about the title than the actual content. What do you think could be good title?

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Love again

 
Remember I told you?
That I feel jealous of you
When I see you two together
The incompleteness makes me shudder
On new year when clock strikes at midnight
And fireworks splendour in the moonlight
How I wish for a companion
To share my happiness 
But now I need not care
For he is coming
To complete me
With his love to share
As I sit here by the deserted beach
With splendid colours of the setting sun
Every bit like a fairy dream
So lovely almost like out of reach
At one weak moment
I doubt if its all true
What I suffered with you
May come back through
I looked expectantly at the drive
Afraid of the history to repeat
For I cannot bear another heartbreak
It would pain more than a knife
But there he comes running
I can see the love in his eyes
Leaving behind the past
Now I know it's a new beginning
He holds my hand
And lightly kisses my cheek
He whispers sweetest words in my ears, I love you
I hear my blurry words, I love you too

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Saturday, June 08, 2013

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Time tells

 

save_my_love_for_loneliness-t2

 

 

 

 

 

 

When you are happy
…You are not enough of yourself

And when you are sad
…You search for people just for a word

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Life is box full of surprises.

 

Life_by_mushir

You asked why?
I say, it is... part of the plan
You say, why not a peek at it?
      I say, need not. Believe. It will be grand
You say, but it doesn't look like
I say, you need to give time a hand
You say, but it's killing me
I say, no, it's polishing you, you’ll be surprised with the end
 Just Believe! Just Believe! 
But again…you still ask why!!

Wednesday, May 01, 2013

Pause

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 39; the thirty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Break"
There I was, at the railway station. I had ran for about 5 minutes and I was panting like an old woman, a proof of negligence towards health. When I looked at the indicator I realised that the train was late. Hush, I almost said aloud. I had to reach early today (though I don't remember when was the last time I did not had to reach early).

The place was crowded and as a woman got up for the train downtown, I managed to sneak fast to fill up the vacancy. The fan above was whirling and as it swept gush of wind on to me, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude. Now that I had a seat, I began to worry about the train. Our project was near to go-live, the client was demanding one and we were all so short of time. The deliverables had to be reviewed and I had to squeeze time from my work to do those. All this was really taking toll on me. It was exhausting, physically and mentally. Work was on my mind day and night. It didn't leave me alone in my dreams too. It appeared like a snake, sneaking and hissing perennially reminding me of the pile of work unfinished. The thought itself was such a terror. I sighed. Why can't I just pause the whole worry thing for a minute. I needed a break.

I heard noises and realised that the crowd had grown and the whole platform was filled up to the edge. “What happened?”, I inquired to the woman on my left. “Uh?”, she said and I judged her to be kind of creature similar to me, all lost in thoughts of everything else but the present. I just smiled, how hopeless we were. God save both of us. “Some wire is broken at Kurla and so the trains are all held up. And to add to the problems, it’s taxi strike too”, a woman to my right answered. “Oh! When will it be fixed then?”, I said with worry. “Well. They didn't say anything about that but I don't think it will be quick”, she said with coolness which I found very appealing.
So there’s no way I can reach office? And with taxi strike, with all the rush, bus was out of question. I called up office and apprised them of the situation. Okay, they said. Rupa will take up my role for the day, they said simply. Okay? They said okay? I was bewildered. How I always thought that each one is irreplaceable and any absence would mean utter chaos and problems only. But that’s not true! They can do without me. I did not have to be there all the time. The fear in my mind was created by me. It was a futile fear.

So I need not worry, I was telling myself. All these days, I was working so much that it seemed so weird and alien to even think of a holiday. But this is it. I told myself. You are free today. Free! Free!

I don’t know how it happened but all the thoughts about work were simply dropped (it had never worked before even with effort). Somehow the fact that nothing could be done, this resignation, seeped through my mind. My mind became cleared of the clutter and I felt myself relaxing.

I could have returned home but instead, I sat back, looking at life I had never watched before even though I was a part of it, playing my role, only as an absent commuter. But today I was a bystander, one in full awareness, watching and feeling the colours, black, white, dull, vibrant. I could hear the sound that filled the surroundings, hushes, swearing, questions, answers. It was a mess but it was splendid! Situations! It brings so much out of people.

The worried woman to my left looked paranoid and I tried to talk but I guessed it was not about the train, I let her be. The woman to my right was watching closely, cool as a cucumber, the smarty. She had figured the ultimate answer before me. The woman with a kid who was stretching at the edge, was continuously looking in the direction of the rail tracks. The kid was smiling, he had already figured that today would be a holiday. Hurray! he must be thinking. it won’t be wrong to think that he already had the plan of how to spend the day.

I was feeling good. I had never been so close to life. My mind and heart was in full acceptance, fully aware. I watched the young couple who found some extra time for their extra talk. They looked oblivion to the disorder around. I watched the man selling bhel, his face happy with the extraordinary day when he could carry home the extra money. I watched people straining ears, head tilted, to hear every word that the speaker announced, in Marathi first, in Hindi next and then in English. It was fun when they looked at each other and shrugged when they did not understand a word of it.

What a life! Where was I all this time? I was the fool who was cribbing and carrying the burden from office to wherever I went. But now that I realised, I dropped all the extra baggage and accepted the new lesson learnt. The Lesson of life!
P.S : This is a fictional account :)
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: Megha Haware, Participation Count: 11

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 7 (Final)

 

…continued from Part 6. She then began to run around the ruin. He followed and saw she was standing looking something at the ground. He looked down. A closer look revealed that it was a human body.
 
He was interrupted by someone, “Who was it? the tribal man?” Rishi nodded. “Yes, it was the young man”.
 
“When the police investigated, the whole thing was brought to light. Rahul returned to the village after a few days and found what had happened from the girl”.
 

The girl told him her story. She was from the village below the ruined fort. One of the elder man in the photo was her husband. She was married off to him when she had turned fifteen. It was common in their tribe she said but she didn’t wanted this fate for herself. She rebelled and it was during those days that she met Nathu, the young man in the photo. They fell in love. He was from the other village at the top. Their path never crossed and nobody came to know. They started to meet secretly. The husband used to go to the city on Saturday to get the weeks household shopping. He also used to spend a night in the village on the path at his uncle’s home. It was all a routine. In those nights she used to sneak away and come to the pond to find Nathu invariably waiting for her. They used to spend time talking, making vows, repeating the promises and then return to their homes with new dreams for the night. Those few hours filled their lives with immense happiness and hope. They spent the rest of the days and nights waiting for next Saturday when they would be together again.

On the night of storm she had sneaked out before time and after a long stroll enjoying the forest she had entered the pond. How peaceful it was under the water, calm, cold. She liked to swim, in fact she could stay under water longer than normal. It was a second home and she felt like a free pisces under the cold water. After some time it started to thunder. She understood that there would be rain. But the time of meeting had passed and Nathu was nowhere to be seen. She was waiting for him desperately.
 
But then it started to rain and she saw Rahul. He had moved to the small arc but it was too narrow and insufficient to provide any protection in the storm. He needed help and she took him to the ruin. Leaving him there she escaped from the left door. She saw there was light in the adjoining chamber and that Rahul will be safe. Hardly did she realise that the one she was waiting for desperately, was right there in the next chamber. That night she did not meet him. Nor the next week and also the following. With Nathu gone, her life was useless. Her life was ruined for eternal.
 
Days were passing. She continued to come to the lake and wait for Nathu heartbroken. One day she met Rahul again. And then he showed her the photo. She was awestruck to see her husband and Nathu in the same frame. How could that be? Did he knew about their love affair. And when Rahul narrated his story, this became clear to her. Through his story that she came to know that her husband was also there in the same place on the dark night.
 
As Rahul repeated his story and she added her bit to it guessing what may have happened. He mentioned about the small kid. She told him the small kid was her step-son, child from her husband’s first marriage. He had thrown the child’s mother out of the house for some feeble reason. The villagers  must have found Nathu before her and must have confronted him. They must have been warning him when Rahul entered the scene and they had to stall their plan. She said it must have been the child who must have guided them in handling the situation. He had inherited the cunning and selfish trait from her husband. But with these traits what she had noticed was a fatal and precarious streak that was building in him.
 
What Rahul had seen in the fort was an illusion, presented by the men, them as the harmless villagers while Nathu as violent. All the while his only attempt must have been to escape but they had held him back. It was unknown why he did not just shove them and escape. She said she was sure he must have been worried for Rahul, that’s why he wanted to warn him and was trying to talk to him but Rahul thought he wanted to fight him.
 
The men had revealed in interrogation that they had passed fumes of poisonous plant that they had bought for Nathu under Rahul’s nose. Rahul passed out and they were free to carry on with their plan. Seeing Rahul down, Nathu had rushed to him but Ganga, the other elder had brought down a stone on Nathu’s head. It was a fatal attack and he died on the spot. The kid was the one who still had not forgotten about the photo. He tried to delete it but it was too complex for him. He stamped it and threw it in water. They discussed and had a common understanding that a traveller like Rahul was not a threat and that he will just get up the next day and leave the place never to return. The two elders carried Nathu’s body to the back of the fort. They had to struggle as it was bit heavy for them. That answers for the foot prints outside, Rahul thought.
 
The girl was crying inconsolably. Rahul understood how difficult it must have been for her. She kept repeating, she knew her husband was a selfish man but she never knew that he would actually kill Nathu. His eyes welled to see her so anguished. But there was nothing that he could do.
 
It was so unfortunate. He could have saved a life. Had it not been him, maybe Nathu may have escaped” Rishi’s voice was sorrowful as he narrated the sad end.
 
“What happened to the girl? What happened to the murderers?”
 
“The case is going on. The men have confessed” His voice was getting softer.
 
“You didn’t see her. She cried like…My hear went to her.” Rishi continued. His words struck the friends that it was Rishi, it was his story. He never told them, maybe it was closer to his heart and brought the vulnerable Rishi out. They didn’t dwell on it. Rishi continued.
 
“ When she cried with her face buried in her hands, the difference between us vanished and I could feel the pain she was going through. I felt like someone very close, like it is my little sister, crying over the tragic permanent loss. I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was see her cry. But that day I realised….how lucky we are. We get everything, without any struggle. But still we crib. We take everyone everything for granted.”
 
They nodded, he was speaking the truth. We have forgotten the value of value. Someone asked, “Is she all right?”
 
“She vanished”, Rishi answered. “She couldn’t be found anywhere. A missing report is lying in the police file. But nobody cares about disappearance of a poor tribal girl.” He paused, “But she is a brave girl”.
 
Somebody put his arms around Rishi’s shoulders. “I am sure she will be all right” his friend said.
 
Rishi smiled, nodding he said, “Yes. I am sure. She is a brave little girl’ Then he wiped his tears and looked at them, “The lake is close by. We can go there. Maybe she has returned!”
 
The End.
 

P.S. After a long long time, I’ve written a story this long. Actually I started for a small one, originally the first part only. But then I went on. I thought about it a very much, so much that when I woke up next day, the first thing that came to my mind was the story. I wondered if I was thinking about it in my sleep too.

I have tried to write the story differently, in all passive tone. I don’t know how much justice I have given to the story this way. But I feel strongly and honestly that the last part could have been better. But with passive tone, I was not able to come up with better way to write it. But maybe when I come back again to this story after some days or months, maybe I have improved and could think how good this story was and what could have been better. Happy writing and Happy reading.

Friday, March 15, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 6

 

…continued from Part 5. He thanked them and left. All was well but a simple fact that the kid was talking the local Marathi language while he refused it’s knowledge on that night. He let it go. He was really fantasizing too much. He continued his way up the mountain taking rest every one hour or so.


He now headed to the lake. It was again full moon night when he was at the same place. He was panting as he reached the plain. The dry grass was making swishing sound as the wind played with it. The water was making the slight sounds as it rippled and shimmered in the moonlight. Every thing, every movement was so much same as the last time he was here, that he had that uneasy feeling like the one that deja vu gives you. Everything repeated as if it was the same night. Everything except the presence of the girl. He searched the water surface in the darkness with urgency to see her, with an anticipation but at the same time his heart filled with dreadful fear that he might never see her. She was not there. He sighed and sat down. He decided to spend the night there and continue with the original plan to trek to the top in the morning.

It was when he lied down and closed his eyes that he could feel the presence of another being around. He sat up and looked around frantically. Another look at the lake revealed what he was here for. The girl was sitting silently by the water. She turned to look at him. ‘How can she be a spirit? How can she be my imagination? No she was alive, in flesh and not his fantasy’. He went to her and sat beside her. He assumed she recognised him as she did not move. He felt the solemnity in her demeanour. ‘Was she sad?’ They sat like that for sometime. Then he tried to start conversation. He wanted to know about her. ‘Who was she? Where did she go that night?’
 
To start with he introduced himself. ‘Rahul’, he said pointing to self. He could hear her breathe. There were gasps. She had been weeping. ‘Your home’, he said making inverted V in air. She pointed at towards the valley, ‘down in the village’ she said in the Marathi. She was still sombre. Sensing her sombre mood he stayed calm but inside he was happy to know that she could talk marathi. She can now answer to his questions. Then quickly realising, he produced the photo from his bag and flashed light on it. The men too were from the same village, that may break the ice. But when she saw it, she snatched it from him. Her eyes went wide and fixed on him with questioning gaze. ‘Where did you find him?’ she asked. ‘Whom?” he wanted to ask but instead he said, ‘The shelter, where she took him that night’
 
She stood and started towards the ruins. He ran after her asking why she was running. But she was in her own spell. He followed. In few minutes they were at the ruin. She ran from one chamber to another searching for something. There was nothing to be found. He could not understand her frantic search. ‘What was she looking? Was it the men? What was it?’
 
She then began to run around the ruin. He followed and saw she was standing looking something at the ground. He looked down. A closer look revealed that it was a human body.
 
He was interrupted by someone, “Who was it? the tribal man?” Rishi nodded. “Yes, it was the young man”
“When the police investigated, the whole thing was brought to light. Rahul returned to the village after a few days and found what had happened from the girl”

…to be continued

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 5

 

…continued from part 4. The whole thing, the events, the doctor’s revelation, everything was disturbing. Nothing was fitting in. Who were they? Was he accidently poisoned or with intent to finish the eye-witness. Were they on a run? Should he go to police?
 

 
He had made up his mind. He decided to go back. Not only to find the truth of the events. But for the girl. He couldn’t forget the girl and it was almost everyday that he dreamt of her. Not that she was very beautiful but the whole extraordinary circumstance that she had appeared and disappeared made him curious. Her face with the silver ornaments shining against her face kept appearing before his eyes. They gentle way that her petite face had rose through the water with rain dripping was not the thing to be easily forgotten. Even then he had followed her enchantingly and she continued to enchant him in the thoughts. He had to meet her. After that he will be fine and continue with his daily life, he was sure.
 
When he reached the foot of the mountain he remembered the person who gave him lift last time had mentioned about the tribal village. He decided that he will make his way through it. The reason was that he had something that had added a thin possibility of discovery of the truth of the whole mystery. While changing the mobile phone he found that the memory card was undamaged. The photo he had taken of the tribal men was intact and he had brought a photo print with him. He was filled with apprehension as he saw the small huts that dotted closely on the mountain slope. Should he back out? What if the men in the photos were really goons. Was it that he was a fool who wanted to step in the lion’s den? Even as he thought his feet kept walking and he found himself facing a group of men under a large tree.
 
He skimmed the faces and as he eyes reached the last of them, he recognised. The two elder were sitting there. They had smile on their lips, it was clear that had recognised them too. The young guy and the kid were missing. He was glad about the absence of the young guy. He wanted to ask about that night but stopped when he realised that it would be vain as they would not understand anything he would say. Ram Ram, he greeted them. Ram Ram, he heard the greeting from behind, he felt his strength draining as the thought of the youth and his aggression passed his mind. He turned reluctantly and sighed as he saw the kid. But he noticed that the kid had greeted in common local language and not tribal. They smiled at each other and he gave a chocolate bar to him.
 
When they talked the kid told them about the night. It so happened that they had all dozed off to sleep and it was him, the kid who had woken up in the middle of the night and had found out that the storm had passed and the sky was clear again. He then woke up the rest. The kid then tried to wake up Rahul too but he was in deep sleep and did not respond. So they left him to rest.
 
Rahul sighed. It was all simple and he had been a fool to thing the other way. Probably he had done too much thinking. Or probably he was fantasizing a little too much. He wanted to ask them about the girl but remembered the reaction last time he had tried to talk on the matter. He thanked them and left. All was well but a simple fact that the kid was talking the local Marathi language while he refused it’s knowledge on that dark stormy night. He let it go. He was really fantasizing too much. He continued his way up the mountain taking rest every one hour or so.

…to be continued

Monday, March 11, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 4

 

…continued from Part 3. He tried to sleep but the last event warned him against it. But his body was too tired and refused to cooperate. His eyes closed and his mind into oblivion forgetting about the storm, the fierce youth, the photo and the mysterious girl.


As Rishi stopped, the others said in unison, “Then what happened?”

He woke up to find himself alone in the ruin. It was already morning. The sun was up in the air.
His watch indicated 11 am. His stomach was twitching and he felt sick. He ran outside. As he threw up, he saw something in the puddle of water to his right. It was his phone. There were number of random footprints around. He picked his mobile and tried to remember how it landed there. He tried to recollect if it fell out when the guy came to him for the fight. But it was in his hands and it did not fall, he could remember it clearly. Maybe they tried to steal it. When he tried to operate the phone, he found that it was ruined and was useless. As he handled it, a possibility flickered in his mind.
 
“Were they some thugs, the villagers? Did they do him something that he doesn’t remember anything?” someone asked interrupting Rishi. The others shushed him.
 
Rishi shrugged and continued, “The last he remember of the previous night was the queer smell that he felt. He couldn’t remember if it was real or just a dream”. He went on.
 
Rahul thought about the comrade, they could not be thugs. Coz all of his belongings were with him. But then they had tried to either steal or ruin his cell. Could that be because of the photo? Were they some wanted murderers? He shuddered at the thought. If that was true, he should thank God that he was still alive. But how believable it was that some murderers left a defenceless witness back. It could not be true. Maybe the kid took it and may have thrown it in the fear to be caught.
 
He collected his bag and started walking. Feeling weak physically and with the stomach creating issues, he decided to back off. He took lift on his way. He was relieved to find that his helper could speak his language. After talking to him he found that there are two tiny tribal villages. They speak their own language. One was some kilometres up on the mountain and the other was downwards and was close if you take go around the mountain. But that was all that the man knew.
 
“Did your friend go the village to find out?”
 
“No. He was frail, his health had worsened. And apparently there was no reason to go back. All his belongings were good, except for his cell”, Rishi answered. He continued, “After reaching home, he recovered. The doctor found poison in his blood, possibly entered his body through fumes.”
 
“Ohh!” there were sighs from his friends. They were hooked. Rishi continued.
 
The whole thing, the events, the doctor’s revelation, everything was disturbing. Nothing was fitting in. Who were they? Was he accidently poisoned or with intent to finish the eye-witness. Were they on a run? Should he go to police?
 
He had made up his mind. He decided to go back.

…to be continued

Saturday, March 09, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 3

 

…continued from Part 2. The chamber was dark but there was a light coming from the right opening. There should be another chamber over there, he thought. Little careful he stepped in.

“What happened? Was the girl there?” someone asked with urgent curiosity.
 
“No”, Rishi continued, “She was not there. She had vanished. Or perhaps she sneaked from the left opening of the other chamber although she did not had any reason to do so in the grave circumstances of the storm. But there were people inside”
 
“So she was a spirit? Bhoot? You are making this up, Rishi!” they all grunted protesting
 

 
“No. Why would I?” he protested.
 
“Just like that. Just to make the night more amusing”
 
“Oh no! You think I am this creative. (pause) I can stop if you think it’s all fake” They all looked at each other and shrugged. “Okay”, they said, “Carry on”.
 
There were people inside, sitting against the wall. Light flickered from the lantern hanging from the ceiling. It was enough to introduce them to each other. There were two elders, one youth and a small kid, all tribal from appearance. It was difficult to identify the age of the elders but the young guy was bony and with slightest of fat. The kid must have been 8 to 9 years. Their body reflected day to day struggle for living and their eyes stared at entry of the new stranger. By their gestures, he guessed that they must have been talking but they refused to continue. They all sat silent. Quite odd, he think. He said Hello to them but it went unanswered. He talked in Marathi, the local language, be they shook their heads. They were all watching him, the elders with a questioning gaze while the youth with defiance and fire. Rahul acknowledged the flair and decided to keep distance from him.
 
They all sat for sometime with small conversations happening between the villagers. They were talking in their native and not a word was interpretable to Rahul. But Rahul was sure that it was not some small talk, with the intensity they talked that something much important was under cover and they were discussing and arguing and his entry had brought halt to it. But there was nothing that he could do. As he had a nutribar, he offered them some, only the kid accepted, others refused.
 
He wanted to ask them about the girl. But how would he convey it? With his hands, he made the curves of woman in air, but got frowns from them, their eyes narrowing. How stupid was he. He could be misinterpreted for worse. He gave up. With such an interesting subjects sitting in front of him, his mind urged him to take some photos. He played with the idea for sometime and then he took out his mobile and stood by the opening from where he could take a good shot. In a fraction of second, just when he clicked, all of a sudden the youth stood up with such a swiftness and ferocity that Rahul’s heart almost stopped. The others were quick to hold him back and make him sit. If not for them he would have been wailing on the floor.
 
They scolded the youth. Rahul understood nothing but he interpreted as warning not to act foolishly. The youth was not happy, fire shining in his eyes, hands restless, he was squirming in his seat. Rahul cursed himself. These guys were here with some reason, perhaps an important meeting. I was an intruder and had brought stop to whatever they were doing. It is only good for me to stop being foolish, mind my own business and leave with the first light, he advised himself and nodded to self.
 
He tried to sleep but the last event warned him against it. His propped his eyes wide but his body was too tired and refused to cooperate. His eyes closed and his mind sunk into oblivion, forgetting about the storm, the fierce youth, the photo and the mysterious girl.
 

Thursday, March 07, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 2

 
….continued from Part 1. Rishi sat down on the uncut grass and began his story.
 

 
My friend, Rahul is also a hippie at heart. He likes to travel by the untraversed path. It gives him adrenaline, he tells me. It was one of his offbeat trek. The one that he will never every forget. He was trekking up the mountain in the Western Ghats. He said there was an easy way to the top but he had found a dirt path and the prospect of traveling by that path was enticing to him. The jungle was safe as the animals were minimal and restricted themselves to the jungle at the top. He had anticipated sparse habitation along the slope of the hill and was carrying enough food with him. The only risk was that the jungle was dense and brilliantly cunning. It was a mirage and could loose you all the while you think you are on the right track. He took the risk and started on the tiny track.
 
It was the beginning of June and the monsoon had not reached Maharashtra. But the climate had been cooler than it should have been and he expected some drizzle. But he was lucky and there were no surprises. He kept walking as the cool breeze unwound him of his tiredness. When it was dusk, he decided to camp. It was not yet dark. He found a place that rooted him as soon as he stepped there. It was a fine place. The ground was flat, defying any indication that it was actually a place on the mountain slope. The grass was dry and swayed in the cool breeze making a swishing sound. In this noise was getting mixed was the soft sound of babbling water. The water reflected the sunset colours. The whole set up looked like taken from some enchanting sequence of a romantic novel. His fatigue vanished and he felt relaxed.
 
Just when he was about to sit by the water, there was a lightening followed by a thunder. It was completely dark by now. There was a commotion of clouds that startled him. He saw a movement in the calm water. He looked around and ran under the rocky arc a few feet away. He was right, it started to rain. Just then he heard the bubbling sound in the water. Something was inside and was coming out. He frowned trying to concentrate on the silhouette.
 
He sighed when he saw it was not an animal. With the sudden flash of lightening that illuminated the scene, he saw it was girl. He could not believe that she was under the water all the time he was there. Her head was now out of the water. He saw the big silver ear ring and nose ring that stood out on her dark face, a tribal girl, her parkar-polka stuck around her body and water dripping from her face. The whole scene brought him goose bumps. He noted that she was unaware of his presence. It was just a fraction of second of illumination and then it was dark again and he could see her no more but did sense that she was now out of the water. The rain by now was coming down in sheets. He noticed she made some hissing sound.
 
She did it again. After an effort of concentration he realised that she was addressing him. She was making sign with her hands over her head indicating house. She was moving towards the the dense of trees and was making signs to him to follow. He complied, he needed a shelter or else he would definitely get sick. The rain was trying to make it difficult to trace her but it did not hinder him. He followed her like a snake following the movements of the charmer’s pipe. After sometime she stopped and he realised they have reached a ruined fort. She stepped in the chamber and he followed. She wasn't inside. He saw two openings, one to left and another to right. The chamber was dark but there was a light coming from the right opening. There should be another chamber over there, he thought. Little careful he stepped in.
 
“What happened? Was the girl there?” a friend asked with curiosity.
 
“No”, Rishi continued, “She was not there. She had vanished. Or perhaps she sneaked from the left opening of the chamber although she did not had any reason to do so in the grave circumstances of the storm. But in the other chamber there were people inside”
 
“So she was a spirit? Bhoot? You are making this up, Rishi!” they all grunted protesting.

…to be continued

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

The Pursuit: Part 1

Dark-Night-390x243Sometimes someone else’s grief gives you more pain than yours”, Rishi murmured looking distractedly at the cloud passing animatedly in the sky. It disappeared in the trees only to reappear in the small gap of the dense forest. They were in the veranda of a small cottage at the outskirts of Nimbude village.

After an eventful day of adventure followed by extremely delicious food, the friends were lying down in uncut grass watching the clear pollution-free sky dotted by the stars, their mind dabbling in the double pleasure discussing the day and relive it. They had immensely enjoyed the jungle safari and were very happy that they had consented to Rishi's suggestion to come to Nimbude.

It was a lovely night and they felt at peace like never before. The wind and abundance of nature melted all their tensions. After a long time they were together, talking their hearts out. As the night wore, their topics drifted from gratitude to complaints. They took turns to keep names and criticize their life and relations. Why couldn't they have a perfect life? What can they do to make it perfect? Rishi listened neglectfully as they discussed to make it perfect but only by trying to change everything else but themselves. “What do you think?”, somebody shook him. “What do you think Rishi?” he repeated. “Me? You really want to know?” Rishi refuted. He stood and looked up to the moon. It was a fullmoon night. Then he answered their question.

“You guys are fools. When you have faithful partners who love and care for you, why are you running around for something else? What exactly do you want?”. His answer silenced them. They were not expecting this answer, not from Rishi. They were aware he had a breakup last month but he wasn't the emotional kind. In fact he would just joke about his fleeting relationships and move ahead. But this was a different Rishi they were listening to. Where love was last word in his dictionary, here he was, filled with emotion, his words carrying a hint of sadness, not fake but urgent and convincing of some unknown reason he wanted to convey.

His face looked soft with emotion, his eyes contemplating and staring in the air. “This place brought some memories. About a girl, a friend had told me about”.

They waited and when there was no answer they said in unison, “Tell us”. They were looking at him with interest in spite of the booze. He sat down on the uncut grass and began his story.

My friend is also a hippie at heart. He likes to travel by the untraversed path. It gives him adrenaline, he tells me. It was one of his offbeat trek. The one that he will never every forget.

… to be continued

Sunday, January 06, 2013

Fragrance of love..

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 35; the thirty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "...and the world was silent again"

He scrapped the black edges of omelette off the pan and put in his plate. He ate it silently by the window. It was 5 pm and yet it was dark like midnight. The darkness of the night contrasted the snow that accumulated on every object exposed to the harsh nature. He finished his omelette within a few seconds. His stomach growled. He needed food. He wished his wife was with him here. It must be 3:30 am in India, he thought. His mobile phone began to ring. He looked at the display. It was his wife calling.

“Ayu, you are still awake? It must be 3:30 am”, he enquired.

“I am missing you Adi. I feel very lonely. I wish you were here with me”, she shared the agony in her heart.

I wish too, he wanted to agree but he stopped himself. “We talked in evening, sweetie. Talk to mom you'll feel better”

“She had to go to brother, he is not keeping well. And her presence would not have made any difference Adi because I need to talk to my husband, you

“She should have been with you. Aniket has family to take care of him. You are alone there. Have you closed the door and windows well?”

“You know Adi, it's raining here. This time of the year, it had never rained before. It's raining as if it will end the world today. Will it? We may die without seeing each other. It’s crazy, my mind. It brings some crazy thoughts. I feel restless alone and so in crowd. Its like the world is a big wild crowd and I am the sick lonely soul in search of don’t know what”, her voice restless.

He knew his wife was going through a difficult phase. They were married for just three months when he had to fly to Canada. She wanted to come with him but it was not possible. They both missed each other terribly. He had busy work schedule to drown into during the day but Ayushi had to bear with the loneliness day and night. He had talked her into a job. She went for it but then after a couple of weeks she resigned complaining loss of interest. His job was very satisfying and that was a relief for him but when he returned home he had nothing to do.

That was the time when his mind and soul engulfed in loneliness almost everyday. He called her every evening and they talked for hours. They laughed, cried, teased, revived their wedding memories. It was the time when time stood still, the distance vanished. The love overflowed all words and emotions and no force could keep them from the happiness that they felt in this time.

But as days flew, Ayushi grew restless. She started complaining about not being able to be with him. It was a matter of less than two months and after that he will be beside his beautiful wife. He tried to console her but she had drowned herself in silence and spent sleepless night in pain. Today was one such night, he realised. He had to free her from the loneliness and make her sleep.

She spoke and he came back to the present. “You remember the Chafa** plant that we planted a year ago before you flew to Canada?”, he noticed the quiver in her voice.

“Yea, you had built a shed to protect it from rain”, he chuckled, trying to lighten her mood. She was always protective about whatever and whoever she loved.

“Yes, it has grown now. It grows beautiful rainbow flowers. There is such a beautiful symmetry in it, the flowers are of same size and each petal of same shape and mix of orange and pink colour. And it’s fragrance is hypnotising. I get a few beside my bed before I go to sleep”. He smiled, he remembered her mentioning that when they had planted it. 

“But I can't get the flowers today. It's difficult to step out in this wild rain. (pause) I don't think the tree will survive this storm. It's going to die. I could protect it no more”. He was worried about Ayushi’s tone. Her words carried her plight which he now empathised. He could feel the loneliness she felt, the tears that welled in her eyes. He realised she had called him for help though she didn't knew this.

“Ayu”, he said, his voice tender. “Are you by the window?”

”Hmm”, she replied.

“You see the tree?”

”Hmm”, she affirmed.

“I wish I was there with you. (pause) But Ayu, I could still see the tree, as if I am beside you watching it. The rain drops patterning on the leaves and flowers. You remember how we have fought about the plant. I wanted rose and you refused. You were so adamant”

“I just wanted a plant that I can see grow before my eyes. It would be a mark of our married life. I wanted to see it grow big before our eyes, blossom and spread the fragrance as our marriage matured”

“Ya, I know dear. You were always the sensible one among us. You see the tree, Ayu? It's grown, blossomed and livens up the surrounding with it's fragrance, doesn't it? You wanted us to see it grow big. You said you wanted it to be a mark of our marriage. Then it is, I see it is. Even if I am not there Ayu, I see it's grown, like us, like our relation. It has grown strong, like our bond. It can survive hundreds of such storms, it will. I don't have to be with you physically, I am already there beside you watching the tree. It's beautiful, isn't it? I love you Ayu. And I will be with you very soon. Right beside you. To smell the flowers and to hold you. To listen to the songs of birds on our tree, chirping and butterflies hovering. I love you sweetheart. I love you very much. It has been a beautiful day and now it’s a beautiful night. You know, I dream of you every night. Will you dream about me tonight?

“Yes I will”, she said, blushed and she tucked herself in the bed. The noise in her head had shut, and the world was silent again. The rain patter which earlier sounded fatal now rang romantic chimes and the smell of the Chafa sneaked through the gaps of closed windows and filled the room. She closed her eyes. She felt close to him like never before and his sweet voice whispered from the phone in her petite ear, I love you Ayu. Good night. Dream about me.

***

NOTE: **Chafa in Marathi is Champa in Hindi, Plumeria in English. This plant grows beautiful flowers and is most fragrant at night

***

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Saturday, January 05, 2013

Children of heaven, movie

Yesterday I watched “Children of Heaven”, an Iranian film by Majid Majidi. A few weeks back a colleague introduced me to Iranian films. ‘Their cinema is famous. They pick a simple topic, and create a beautiful film on it’, he said.

Children of Heaven deals with a brother and sister and their adventures over a lost pair of shoes. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1998.

The movie is filmed in Persian language and you have to read subtitles to understand but it doesn't make it less interesting. Believe me it doesn't.

The film is beautiful and gets close to your heart not because of any extraordinary theme but just because of the opposite, its simplicity. It's simplicity is it’s charisma. And the direction, a magic.

The film takes us into the very common life of an Iranian home and after a few minutes you feel you know the family. You empathize with them and think how their life can get better. It's a film which will hold you while watching it but will makes you contemplate more after. There are couple of things that you dwell on after watching the film, the simple life, the rustic yet cinematic streets, the bond between the children and teachers, Irani education system. Moreover, the problems faced by a poor family, the love and bond between the children and their parents, love between the siblings, the determination of the children to manage with a single pair of shoes, not to avoid spanking but because they know that their father cannot afford to buy new pair before the month end and they don't want to burden him. 

The music is minimal but the background score is perfect at the highlighting shots. Some of the scenes are brilliantly shot, the one when Ali and his sister goes to the girls place to get the shoes back, the girl running after the shoe when it falls into the gutter, the other one when Ali promises his sister that he'll come third and gift her the shoes, then the intricately filmed race, the memories flashing on his mind while running and the most beautiful, the climax when he immerses his feet in the pond and the fishes kisses his feet. There are many shots and those who have watched the film will understand.

The film and the director is extraordinary and I am going to watch the other films by him. Those who love content cinema and good direction should watch this film. Also, I think parents should show it to their children.

[ Must Watch ]