A Cute Love Story (Short Story)

( I would recommend the readers to read my another short story "Beautiful Love Story" (before reading this one. )

“That’s a good story”, - she said handing over the hard copy of my short story “Beautiful love story” to me. “But then when are you planning to have real girl friends rather than being just satisfied with imaginary ones” she added.

It was six ‘o clock in the evening, and I was returning after visiting my college friend, who insisted on reading all the stories I wrote after the college days. As I was going through my own stories in bus, as I used to do whenever I feel very bored, a lady sitting next to me, took one of my short stories and started reading it. (Of course with my permission). Few minutes later she came up with the above mentioned comment.

“Thank God. At least you understood that was an imaginary story. Most of my friends insist me to show them my train girl friend after reading the story.” I said.

“In real life you don’t get girl friends or boy friends just like that as you have written in the story.”

“Is it so? So what should one do to get a girlfriend?” - I asked happily that the conversation is getting interesting.

“You got to take some initiative – In real life, you just don’t sit and wait, hoping for God or Nature to send you some beautiful girl, who asks for an instant story, so that you could propose through a story. You got to put in some effort.” – She started speaking as though she has done a doctorate in this field.

“I agree. My story is imaginative. But then I have also heard and written a true love story, where God or Nature or Coincidence whatever you call it, played a major role in joining two hearts made for each other.”

“Joining two hearts made for each other? You are sounding too poetic” – she said mocking me. “Any ways give me the story. Let me read it.” – I handed over the true love story that was narrated to me by a stranger few days ago.

Stranger’s true love story:

I love collecting information. When my friends were fascinated by Rajinikanth’s cigarette smoking style and Kapil Dev’s out swingers, for me the fact that I knew the names of Rajini’s first, twenty fifth, fiftieth film names, Kapil Dev’s hundredth, two hundredth Test and Ranji wickets gave me more happiness, rather than their styles. So when a particular girl started to interest me, I did the same thing; collect as much information about her.

I first met her, when we shifted our house to Annanagar, and I started to travel in 7F bus to office. Getting in the bus at the bus depot itself, gave me an opportunity to select the seat in which I can sit; I always choose the fifth seat behind the bus driver and she always sat in the ladies seat parallel to mine.

Some one like you might have decided to do things that would help capture her attention, once you were fascinated by her; but as I said earlier I started collecting information about her. Initially I settled for things that I could come to know without much trouble. In three months time, I knew that she takes head baths on all Fridays, she wears yellow salwars on sixty percent of the Thursdays, and that she uses her mobile in bus once in approximately three days.

More and more I saw her, and more and more information I got about her, my interest in her was slowly transformed into love. If you are thinking that at least after that I would have stopped collecting information and started doing something to capture her attention, it means you still don’t know about me properly. Actually what I did was exactly opposite; I started collecting more information about her, that in six months time, I knew more about her family than a census officer would know. To be fair, to the census officer, how would he have known that her younger brother hates math and just managed to pass in the subject in the tenth public examination, though she had scored centum in the same subject in her tenth.

It was then my friends came to know about my love, as they stumbled across the data I had so secretly kept. They initially made fun of me; but later advised me to take some real effort to win her, rather than just keeping on accumulating info about her. I nevertheless persisted in doing things in my way. By the end of one year since I saw her, I actually knew more about her than she herself would have known; I’m not sure whether she knew that her father’s short story had been published in Ananda Vikatan (famous Tamil magazine) thirty years ago, or that her father was the third bride groom to visit her mother. Mean while my parents began to wonder how I suddenly acquired so many friends who were getting married in Salem, her native.

“Excuse me” where the first words she spoke to me and I still remember the occasion vividly. Though I had known so much about her, I was yet to even speak her, leave alone gathering the courage to go and propose to her. It was on the children’s day of 2006, when she came and sat next to me in the bus (seat that was usually occupied by a ninth standard school student), rather then the usual parallel ladies seat and uttered those words. “Can you do me a favor” – she added.

Before my dumb struck mouth could gather enough strength to say “Sure” she continued, “I am doing Msc Psychology final year….” – “I even know that you scored 78.6 % in your third semester”, I wanted to add, but kept mum.

“My final year thesis is on “Traits Chennai youngster’s look for in their future wife”, and I have been talking to many people regarding that, and I want you also to share things that you would like to see in your future wife.”

I was sure that I could not be given a much easier chance to propose to her. Still I hesitantly asked, “What sort of information you are looking for?”

“Things like whether you prefer your wife to be house wife or working women, like that”– she said.

“I prefer working women as wife” – I said immediately, as I have read the article she wrote in the college magazine about why women should go to work.

She smiled and added “Working women. Fine. Do you have any more criteria on how your wife should be?”

“Ya, I have. In fact I have so many strict criteria that I am not sure whether any one would meet them” – her constant smiling face emboldened by and I decided I am going to propose her no matter what happens.

“Interesting. Please share those criteria with me” – she said.

Bringing all the courage to the forefront, I began to say the criteria, “I prefer to marry a Bank Manager’s daughter; she must be the eldest daughter; with probably one younger brother; she must be Rahul Dravid’s fan; must have read all the novels of Jeffery Archer till date; she must hate black grapes, but devour green grapes, her favorite color must be yellow; she must enjoy….”

“Stop, stop. Don’t keep on adding those conditions. I think only one girl would satisfy all these conditions.”

“And that’s you” – I said blushing.

We were married three months later.

“So you are saying that it is nature that helped their love by creating a situation where she did the thesis on “Traits Chennai youngster’s look for in their future wife”, which in turn helped him to propose, that eventually led to their marriage. Am I right?” – She asked and her smile was actually more pronounced now than ever before.

“Yes, other wise he never would have got the courage to even propose. He himself said it.”

“He knew every thing about her girl friend, but he didn’t even know that her final year thesis was actually not on “Traits Chennai youngster’s look for in their future wife”, and she asked about this traits question to only one guy – handsome guy who was searching diligently for past one year to collect details about her.”

“How do you know?” – I was perplexed.

She didn't answer my question directly. All that she said was, “If you want a girl friend, you either start taking some initiative, or hope you get a girl friend like me, who out of frustration will take the initiative her self as I did. But don’t sit hoping that nature will help you, and then you will end up with only imaginary girl friends.

If computers had been invented (Short Story/ Artice)

“Currently it takes around seven years to produce a new drug.” – I closed the three seventy six pages hard bound book, titled “If computers had been invented”, and looked out of the window. As the train I was traveling in gathered speed, I decided to spend the remaining few minutes of my journey, admiring natural beauty outside rather than reading this book written by a leading scientist from the other side of the globe who seemed to believe that all the problems that the world faces today, would not have existed if only this imaginative machine called computer had been invented fifty years ago.

I had been reading the eighth chapter before closing the book and having read the previous seven chapters, I can easily predict how this chapter would end. The author would talk about various scientific terms, which I won’t understand, and then he would explain those scientific terms in what he thinks as ‘Layman’s Language’, which again I would not understand, but nevertheless by the time he ends this chapter he would some how come to the conclusion that if only this imaginative machine had been invented, the drugs which takes seven years now, could have been produced in less than a year, and so many Africans dying of Malaria would have been saved. (I think this scientist cum author had gone for an African safari recently, as he never seems to end any chapter without referring to Africa once.)

I looked at my electronic watch that showed the time as 8.15 am and the date as 8^th August 2008. If the scientist who had written this book were to be sitting opposite to me, he would have reminded me that, if only computers had been invented, I would not have needed the watches and the Computers would have shown (or told) me not only the local time but also the time in all other nations in the World, including Africa. (Am I also getting that Africa mania? Does that disease so highly contagious that it spreads through books or what?)

Fortunately or unfortunately, it was not that scientist who was sitting opposite to me, but rather a sixty five year old man, who was staring at the picture of a computer in the front cover of the book, with a bit of venom in his eyes. “Are you reading a book about T.V”, he asked in a tone that clearly conveyed his displeasure of someone wasting his time by reading about the Idiot box.

“No it’s not about television. It’s about an imaginative, yet to be invented machine called Computer”. I said quickly, hoping the answer would reduce the venom in his eyes to an acceptable level.

“Can we watch television serials in it?” – asked the middle aged lady who looked like the old man’s daughter in law. Now I could understand why the old man hated televisions. A small boy who was sitting next to me doing his math homework looked up at me, and his face conveyed the fact that he wanted to ask whether we can watch cricket matches in it. However he quickly thought otherwise and went back to his work. May be his cerebrum reminded him about the punishment his math teacher usually gives to Home work defaulters.

“Yes I think we can.” – I answered the lady’s question, thereby creating a competition between television and computers on which was most hated by that old man, but before either of them could reply I added “But it has much more use than just watching serials or cricket matches. (I am always proud of the fact that I could read questions on other people’s minds, just wanted to convey to that young guy that I know what was on his mind) It can solve wide range of problems.”

The old man’s attitude towards computers changed the moment he heard that computers could solve problems, and he decided to put the computers to a test on problem solving. “I had not received my old age pension of eight hundred rupees for the past two months. I have been meeting the Tashildhar every day for the past one month, but I am not getting any satisfactory reply. Will this machine solve my problem? – asked the innocent old man.

I was stumped. That scientist had not written anything about the problems of Tashildhar. (May be there were no Tashildhar in his country) I mumbled “I am not sure. It can do things like complex math problems………” I, completely aware that solving complex math problem won’t interest either the old man or his daughter in law, tried to think of something from the book that would fascinate them.

However the phrase ‘Solving Math problems’ did fascinate that ten year old kid sitting next to me. He looked up at me, hoping that suddenly some one would invent the computer and threw it into the train.

The train slowed down to stop at yet another station, where as usual more people would get into the already packed compartment. As I had to get down in the next station, I kept the book inside the bag and pushed, pulled and stamped people on my way to exit. Meanwhile my mind was racing back to last Wednesday, the day when I got this book – the book that had taught me so much about this imaginative machine, which if had been invented could have changed the world. (According to that scientist, of course)

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LAST WEDNESDAY

I was calculating the interest the bank should pay to a customer, who had invested a million dollar. No. I am neither working in a bank nor I am going to invest one million dollar in a bank. (With my monthly salary, investing one million won’t even qualify as a day-dream.) Rather the bank is my company’s client, my company being one of the prominent in our nation that specializes in doing back end operations for banks, hospitals, super markets, universities etc, in a nation that is situated exactly across the globe. (My office colleagues forgive me, for writing a paragraph about what you already know, I am planning to post this article in my external blog too, and hence it became necessary to write about what I do. My cousins/ college friends read them there, and they think I am getting salary for doing nothing. I got to prove them that I do something in return for salary I get.)

“Hi Subramani.” It was when I was dealing with that amount of money, my colleague Siva approached me. “Any contributions from you for the next edition of ‘Thendral’.”

“So you want another story that I had already written in the Bulletin board for Thendral’s next edition?”

If you didn’t understand the previous sentence properly, then it means I need to explain to you about both ‘Thendral’ and our Bulletin board. Thendral is our DC’s newsletter, brought about by some enthusiastic members of our DC of which Siva is also a member. Bulletin board is a board kept near our entrance, where the employees can write, whatever they think as creative and pin it up. (Whatever they think as creative doesn’t literally mean whatever they think. There are rules to be followed.)

Thought I don’t like boosting about myself, I felt it is necessary to point out here that I had gained a bit of reputation among my friends and colleagues for my creative writing abilities, thanks to some of the short stories put up by me in the bulletin board. So when Siva approached me last time with a request for a short story for the DC news letter, I happily sent my most famous short story in the BB (short form of Bulletin Board) “A Beautiful Love Story”. Now I might have to think about some other story for this edition.

“No. I don’t need a short story from you this time. I need something different from you” said Siva probably reading my mind.

“What are you expecting then?” – I asked, but at the same time silently praying to God that he doesn’t ask me to write a poem. The last time I wrote a poem was when I was in my twelfth standard entitled “Terrorism” and I am sure, any one well versed in English would not even call that as a poem.

God saved me from writing poems, but he pushed me into something worse. Siva asked me to write a scientific article.

“What scientific article? What do you think I know about science? The last science book that I read was my twelfth biology text” was my shell shocked response.

“I know about you. That’s why I brought this book from library”- said Siva handing me a hard bound book.

“What’s this book is about?” – I asked him skimming through the book. Then I read the back cover and got to know what the book is about and said “Thank God. This machine has not been invented. If only this machine had been there our company would not have been there. People from that country could have done all the works I do now, easily themselves.”

“Don’t worry. Even then those people would have depended on us to maintain this machine. They would have outsourced that work to us. Any way, now I got to go; but for this edition of ‘Thendral’ I need an article about this machine, not in scientific language, but in a way that every one could understand it” – saying this Siva left, leaving me with that book, and the responsibility of writing an article.

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Walking in the railway station, I was wondering what to say to Siva, as I had yet to write even a single page of the article that he wanted. Every time I started writing the article, it turned out to be worse than some technical journal, and I can assure you that no one would understand a word, if I am going to write an entire article that way. As I came out of the railway station, in a DVD shop, I saw a DVD titled, “Making of a….” followed by some Movie name. It was then I got an idea. Why not write an article about making of the article “If computers had been invented”.

And If you are reading this article now, it means that I have not able to write an original article, and so have submitted this “Making of an article” itself to “Thendral”. I have tried my best to point out some of the benefits that would have happened if computers had been invented in this “Making of Article” itself, but still if you are angry at me for not writing an proper article and are rushing to buy rotten tomatoes to throw at me, please wait for a second, as I would now add more benefits of computers, hoping that would reduce the number of rotten tomatoes that I would receive.

1) If computers had been there, you would not be reading this article on paper, rather you would be reading this in a computer.

2) You would not have been forced to rush to a vegetable shop to throw a tomato at me. You could have easily stimulated the effect of throwing a rotten tomato at me by just clicking a button on your computer.

However as computers are yet to be invented, now please rush fast to buy the rotten tomatoes. As more and more people read my article, the rotten tomatoes may reach record price today.

FREEDOM (SHORT STORY)

“My mother’s advice is no more valid” – I thought to myself on hearing the conversation below.

“What is Freedom?”

“Freedom means we can do whatever we want, as long as it does not affect others”.

The question about freedom was asked by Gayathri, a five year old girl, daughter of my brother in law (my husband’s brother). In fact even I wanted to ask that same question, as the people all over the railway station were shouting - “Bharat Mata Ki Jay”,” We got the freedom” were some of their shouting’s - and dancing in Joy. If they were so happy in getting freedom – then the freedom must be tastier than the ‘Adhirasams’ (a sweet) my mother makes – I thought to myself, before being enlightened by the answer given to Gayathri by my father in law.

I, born on a day before Pongal, thirteen years ago, am now in a distant land called Jhansi, sitting in the third class compartment in the train going to Delhi. Sitting near me is my husband, who speaks one or two words to me, only when his mother is not watching. Until two years before, I had been going to school – Convent school run by Christian missionaries- in the next street to our house. I, having completed sixth standard was the most educated girl in our caste. It, along with my beauty (headmistress at my school was so much stunned by my beauty when I danced in a frock for a song praising Jesus Christ during Christmas celebrations) were the reasons that I was selected as a bride by a highly respected family from Delhi.

I was treated like a princess – my father kept repeating that I was so lucky – and I was provided with the finest of sarees and golden bangles; but that was not I wanted. All I wanted was to play with my friends as I used to before. I wanted to go out with my friends and eat ground nuts in a shop near school, but I was gently scolded by my mother when I told my desire- “Don’t ever tell it when your father is near – he is so happy now. Don’t make him angry”.

It was two months before my marriage that I was given the advices that I told to you in the first line of the story. Some of the prominent points of those advices were – to obey everything said by my mother in law, sister in law, or far that matter any of my in laws, not to play with dolls as I used to at home, not to talk to any male relatives other than my husband and thousand other things – and I literally memorized all of them as they were told day after day. Besides these theoretical lectures and advices, I was also given practical fast track courses in cooking, washing clothes etc.

In the train, as Gayathri was playing with toys, jumping in a pink frock – similar to the one I used to wear when I was young – it brought back my childhood memories and I felt jealous of her. I also wanted to play – but my mother’s advice and lectures kept me under control.

It was then Jhansi came and I was enlightened about what Freedom is by my Father-in-law. Now, my entire mother’s advice was not valid. They were valid only when we did not have freedom. Now we have freedom and we can do whatever, we want, as long as it does not affect others. Definitely- I jumping and playing with Gayathri will not affect anyone. I can do it as we have freedom. My mother’s advice is not valid now as we have freedom. I jumped with joy and rushed towards Gayathri to play.

I don’t want to say what happened after that (I don’t believe in sharing negative things), but one thing -- my father-in-law is not as intelligent as other’s think. His definition of freedom was proved wrong and my mother’s advice is still valid.

Sorry, it’s not a story, it’s a confidential report. (SHORT STORY)

Scene –I

He was standing in the bus stop in a slightly arrogant way characteristic of any college going student in Chennai. His eyes were showing very keen interest when ever any teen age girl passed by that side, but even half of that interest was not shown when a 56P bus came and halted in front of him. In fact the bus would go to his college. However he would travel only in the next bus, in which is gang of friends would come- travelling with his gang would make the otherwise boring travel so interesting

The bus started to move after no one got down from it but at least twenty people tried to force their way into already fully packed bus. Just as the bus was gaining momentum, he noticed her. She was sitting in the third row from rear in the women’s side. He was just wondering, why was she here, why she is travelling in this bus when her house is at a walk able distance from collage.

She was college’s dream girl. Every one in the college right from students to watch man just loved looking at her from morning to evening. No one except her close friends had ever dared to speak to her – leave alone flirting with her. There were rumors in the college that she had even slapped one of the lecturers once when he tried to flirt. Today was a God given opportunity – he thought to himself. If only he could go in this bus, travelling with her would make him a hero in his gang. He would be envied by others. He need not even talk to her. He could just make stories about how she was so friendly with him in the bus, and so on.

He knew he had to act fast. The bus had already travelled quite a distance. He began to give it a chase. He was collage champion in athletics and it helped. Then in athletics field, you don’t find an old woman with basket of fruits, a tricycle, and a group of school going kids with bags twice their weight coming from the other sides. The road wet as a result of the rain day before, did not help his cause in any way.

He was about to give up, when she turned and looked behind from the bus. Her face game him all the motivation he needed. He picked up speed and come so close to the bus. He managed to put one foot into the bus, when the dreaded thing happened. The wet shoes didn’t give the grip he needed, and the next moment, he was not inside the bus, but unfortunately under its wheels.

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Scene 2:

His eyes were so reddish. He had just come out of the Tasmac shop. His aunt- he was her favorite- had come home today from her native village, and she had given him hundred bucks to buy some thing useful. She would not have expected that useful thing would be the same liquid that was responsible for her husband’s death. He went and sat inside the Maruti. He some how convinced his innocent mother of the special class, and how he could never make it to it in time because of the unreliable public transport system, and how the master cruelly punishes anyone who turns up even a second late.

“These days’ teachers are so bad” – She had always found the teachers at fault right from the day, his first standard teacher complained about his love to pinch the students sitting near by. She could never believe his son could do some thing wrong.

He had decided to go and have a great ride. He just loved driving like they drive it in formula 1. There was no one to tell him that the last thing formula 1 drivers do his to consume alcohols before driving, and they don’t drive in roads used by common people. He started off fast, and immediately shifted gears. He drove as fast his maruti would allow him, in the process terrorizing innocent road users. There came that sharp turn, with a warning “Accident Prone Zone. Keep slow”. He loved this sharp turns. He loved to make those turns in great speeds. Today he decided to do it again. The extra hundred bucks given by her aunt meant extra alcohol – which in turn meant poorer reflex. He tried to turn the steering wheel with great speed, but all he could manage was to dash his dad’s hard earned maruti against the banyan tree, that had seen many such accidents in two hundred years of its existence in that corner.

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Scene 3:

He was one among the few who got down at Pallavaram railway station in that non peak hour. His face was tense as he was expecting a call from Madurai, where her wife is going to give birth to their first child any time now. He must have been now in Madurai, standing in the hospital, waiting for the privilege of being the first person to be informed about yet another new entry to this world. His manager spoiled all this.

The manager had forced him to go to Chennai on some urgent work, work he despised so much. “I should have been in Maudrai” – he was constantly thinking. He had already done most of the work in Chennai, and after he finishes this one last work in Pallavaram, he would be travelling in the first available bus to Madurai.

He got a call from an unknown number in Madurai. He was sure that was from the hospital. “Hello” he said, fully engrossed to listen to what the other person on the line had to say. “Hello” he literally shouted again, poor network connection which meant that he was not able to listen properly. The person at the other end was saying some thing, but unfortunately he was not able to listen to it.

He was so keen on talking in phone, that he did not listen to “Train is coming” shouting’s from the people around him. He even did not listen to the loud horn sounded by the express train coming at a good speed. He was just keen on listening to what the other person had to say on phone. An image of a beautiful baby was flashed by his brain and he was smiling, as he received happy news from the other end. He did not know that he could never see his child alive. The train was coming fast…..


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Conclusion:

When you, The Almighty God said that you are going to destroy the Earth, I was one among the many who felt very bad about you. After coming to Earth on your insistence, and after seeing the many incidents in Chennai, as assigned to me, I was fairly convinced that any way most of the people here are already trying hard to kill themselves, which was evident from the above mentioned scenes and various other scenes that I had seen but not mentioned. So hereby I conclude my report saying that you could go ahead with your plans of destroying this earth.

Yours truly,

Angel No – 90453,
Senior Consultant (Chennai Division),
Heaven

REFUSAL (SHORT STORY)

Discussion going on in "Nayar Kadai"

“She might have told him not to accept” (She – Leading Tamil heroine)

“May be he was afraid that seniors in the team might not cooperate with him and he has every right to fear so”

“Seniors. For every problem, why do we bring them in” – the ardent fan of one of the seniors.


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Mukesh was sitting leisurely in the comfort of the sofa in his house, unaware of the discussions going on about his declining the captaincy of the Indian cricket team in the 'Nayar kadai'; though he was completely aware that through out India, his decision would be the discussion topic today. Lying in front of him were various English dailies, each having a special report written about his decision right from a yester year superstar to that guy who had played only one day international so far, that too thanks to his uncle who was the selector of the Indian cricket team then.

Mukesh fortunately or unfortunately did not have any selector uncles, but he made up for it with a string of good scores in the domestic circuit. He was the leading run scorer in the Ranji trophy for three consecutive years, but what really sealed a spot in the Indian cricket team in his favor was the three double hundreds he scored in a trot: one in Ranji semis, the next in final against Mumbai, and the third for the Indian Board President Eleven against the visiting Pakistani side. From then on he never looked back.

The last ball six he scored against Pakistan to seal off a memorable series win in front of his home crowd at Chepauk, made the world turn around and take a look at him. Five hundred run in a three match test series in seaming South African tracks is what actually convinced the World that he was a superstar in making; but it was what happened in Australia that showed he is of a special kind in the cricketing world which seems to be rapidly forgetting that it is a gentleman game. He scored two ninety nines in the final decisive test; in the first innings he was declared out caught behind by the umpire when there was a huge gap between the bat and the ball; in the second innings, he faintly edged the ball behind, but this time the umpire didn’t see the edge; but he walked. “There are certain things in life more important than hundreds” – he would later remark about it.

“You are saying no, because of that thing that happened so many years ago. You must be kidding.” – said his manager, who takes care of his endorsements, still unable to believe that what he just heard was true. The time he heard of rumors of Mukesh being appointed captain after India’s world cup debacle, in spite Mukesh scoring three half centuries, he had already started making plans of how much more money through endorsements that meant for Mukesh and more importantly how much more for him through commissions.

“You must be kidding”- he repeated once again this time little louder in a tone that he had never used before in the presence of Mukesh. “No I’m not” was the reply from Mukesh who now got up from the comfort of sofa and walked towards the corridor thinking within his mind that these people never understand anything other than money. He used the rails to support himself as he closed his eyes and began to think about the incident he narrated to his manager few minutes before.
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Mukesh, eleventh standard student in the Government High school, was kicking the soil in his school ground, standing at long off, as their opponents continued to celebrate their victory. His anger was not at the opponents but rather at his childhood friend and his captain Ravi, who gave the last over to Ashwin, in spite the fact that Mukesh virtually begged him to give it to Suresh.

He felt let down once again as it was the second time in as many matches, his friend has done exactly opposite to what he asked him to do. He started to walk back, when a comforting arm fell over his shoulder, followed by an apologetic remark, “My instincts told Ashwin would be a better choice, Mate”. Mukesh abused curses at the instincts of Ravi in a language that could not be used in the Infy bulletin boards.

“Ya. It’s fine. I accept that you would be a better captain than me; but what about our childhood challenge?”- Ravi.

“Don’t worry. I promise you that I would never become a captain without defeating you in a challenge” – Mukesh’s anger always flies away as soon as his friend comes near him.

The challenge they were talking about is the running race between the coconut trees in the Mukesh house to the palm tree near Ravi’s house. It may sound comical, but they came up with this idea when they had a row over who would lead the team when they were ten year olds, and they have been following the idea ever since. Ravi was the better runner, and he had always lead Mukesh from then on.

Mukesh knew that no one other than two of them could ever captain their school side, since they were simply a notch greater than others in terms of cricketing skills. If only he could defeat his friend in the challenge, they would both talk to their PT master and he could become the captain at least in the last year of his school. He knew Ravi was always ready to scrap the challenge and let him be the captain, but he was too proud to accept it. “I will give it one more tries next time” – he said to himself.

Schools closed for summer, and Mukesh went to his uncle’s house in Chennai, where he had requested his uncle to arrange him to attend a special coaching camp conducted by a former Olympic athlete. He thought that only way he could defeat his friend could be with the help of professional help. His uncle, who once had a dream to play in Ranji trophy but could never go beyond club level, readily obliged.

Chennai, for Mukesh who was born and brought up in a village, gave a new experience. When he saw a girl in his uncle’s next house wearing dresses that he had seen before only in movies, and giggling like the heroines, he started to spend more time chasing here, rather in the coaching camp. As the summer vacation came to an end, he returned back to his house, hoping he could see the giggling girl next year, and also guilty at heart that he could never lead the school side.

When he entered his home, he knew something was wrong. His mother was trying to tell him some thing, but she couldn’t muster enough courage. When he said, he would go to Ravi’s house, to accept defeat; she knew she had to say it then. Ravi had sacrificed his life, trying to save a small child who was drowning in the near by pond. The pond had ten victims so far, and it added the young girl and Ravi to its account gleefully.

“No sir. Let Ashwin lead the side” – Mukesh replied to the PT master who asked him to lead the school side.

“But Why?” – asked the PT Master.

“Because I am yet to win the challenge” was the reply.

PT Master did not understand, but definitely he was not the last one, not to understand. His club manager, ranji team mates, and now the Indian Public all of them were confused and could not understand when he is refusing captaincy; but he knew his friend there in heaven would understand and that is all that mattered to him.

“There are certain things in life more important than hundreds and captaincy” – he would say to the press the next day.

A beautiful love story (Short story)

NOTE: This story is purely a work of fiction. All characters in this story are imaginary characters and any coincidence with the real life characters (especially me) is purely coincidence. (This note is especially for my friends)



“I have known that there are various ways for proposing love. The Tamil films show the N number of ways for proposing love. Through SMS, through phone, through letters, and in “Anniyan” film Vikram, proposes through application form sort of letter, and in some other film, an actor proposes love through mike in the library. I forgot who he is” – She went on speaking.

“Its Karthick”- I said.

She then continued, “I never had ever thought, that some one could propose through a story. I was just stunned to read the story. I really don’t know what to say.” The story I had written and given to her was still in her hands.

We were sitting opposite to each other in the electric train that travels from Chengalpattu to Chennai Beach. It was 6’0 clock in the evening, and outside was quite cool thanks to the slight drizzle. The scenic beauty outside was simply amazing in such a climate, and normally I would have been looking outside thinking poetically about the Nature’s creations. Today however I was not looking outside as another beauty of nature’s creation had my full attention now.

The train has just started moving from Vandalur station, and a young chap selling groundnuts got in the moving train quite dangerously. Her eyes which were following that chap, now turned towards me. I tried to find whether her magnetic eyes would reveal anything going inside her mind, but my mind reading skills had abandoned me in this crucial time. She didn’t let me worry about her response for a long time.

“You have conveyed your feelings in such a fascinating way. I wish even I could do the same. But then I don’t have such a talent. So this is all I could do” – saying she wrote “I too love you” in her beautiful handwriting below the story. I couldn’t believe it. I never expected that she would accept it. If some one had said that I would get a girl friend one hour before, I would have probably laughed at them. In fact I met her just forty five minutes ago.

Forty Five Minutes Ago:

I was standing alone in the Paranur railway station. There would be big crowd normally during this time if it had been a week day. Today was a Saturday, and hence I had to travel with out my usual friends. I felt very bored and irritated. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any book also in my hand. My watch revealed that it would take ten more minutes before the train would finally arrive, i.e. if the train came on time. I know standing alone in Paranur; it could be a very long ten more minutes.

“You are Subramani, right” – a sweet voice disturbed my thought.

“Ya I am” – I don’t think my voice stumbled so much even when I attended the infy interview.

“I have read your stories in the bulletin board. They are too good” – her sweet voice continued.

I had received so many positive comments for my writings in the bulletin board itself. I had even received some mails praising my stories. And the friends I had got during the training in Mysore, but now in different IBUs have praised me, when ever they came across me in the food courts. A stranger praising me in the railway station is some thing I never expected would happen. I would have loved to talk to any person given my loneliness, and if that person is going to be a beautiful girl like her, I have no reason to complain. Life is so good.

“The last story where you wrote about the …………….” She went on speaking about my stories. I don’t want to lie that my attention was only in her speech. If I am going to explain her beauty you may think of it has an exaggeration. The way she combed her hair with her beautiful fingers, whenever the gentle breeze disturbed her hair, the way she adjusted her ‘Dhupatta’, and the way in which she logically analyzed my stories, some thing within me said that “Subramani, She should be yours”.

I never believed in Love at first sight. I had made fun of all those Tamil films where the hero falls for the heroine, just after seeing her. Now I know I am doing exactly the same. Some thing in her made me fall for her. Don’t ask me the reasons. I won’t be able to explain.

The train sound disturbed my thought. “Why the hell did the train come so soon”- I wondered. The ten long minutes I was talking about earlier flew like ten seconds. I was worried that she might get into the Ladies compartment. Nevertheless I said “You got to walk little back for the ladies compartment”. “No probs. I would get in the general compartment with you. I need to talk a lot with you” – I don’t know how I controlled myself from jumping up and down in the station.

Inside the train, I wanted to talk so much to her, but words failed me. All I could ask her was her name, which college she studied, and some other stupid questions, and some third persons looking at us might have thought I am conducting some interview. I felt so bad; I didn’t know how to impress a girl. For some guys, it comes naturally, but then not for me.

“How long you take to write a story”- she saved me as when it comes to talking about the story, I can talk to any one.

“It depends” I said, “Sometimes it takes even 3 days, but some times I even finish it off in half an hour”.

“Can you write a story for me now?”

“Sure” – I replied as though I am expecting such a request.

“Sorry for asking an Instant story, like an instant coffee. If you have some other work, please feel free to say it. I don’t mind” she said.

“I don’t have any other work” – I had already started writing the story in few A4 sheets I had.

She did not disturb me. She seems to have understood that the only thing the person wants while writing a story is loneliness. I don’t like people peeping into my stories before I finish it, and thank God she didn’t. When I was about to finish the story, She asked “What sort of story it is?”

“Love story” – I replied.

“You had never written a love story before- at least you had never written it in the bulletin board before”

“Ya, this is my first love story. I just wanted to try something different”

I finished off the story and gave it to her. She arranged the papers in her hand and started reading the story.

PS: Are you wondering, what story I wrote and gave, that made her accept my love. Are you wondering how did I propose my love in that story? Do you want to read that story? If your answer is Yes, if you badly want to read that story which made me propose my love indirectly, if you want to read that story that made her accept my love, then READ THIS STORY AGAIN.

Story within a story (Short Story)

“She had read that story twenty five times so far.”

After reading the above line, did any feeling arose in your mind? Did you feel angry, depressed or irritated?

I am sure you would not have got any feelings. “That was a very simple line. How do one get angry or feel irritated on reading such a simple line”, might be your thought now.

Now, I will tell you a story. After wards I will again say the same line and ask your reaction. Let’s read that story now:

BLACK DOG

If you can catch the electric train to Gummidipoondi from Chennai Central and get down at Minjur and travel four kilometers inwards, you will reach a house near a small private school. That house is in festive mood today- the reason being the birthday of Mahesh – the only child of the house.

After the tiring birthday celebration, during the course of which he would have gained few kilos of weight thanks to the countless sweets eaten by him, Mahesh now sleeping next to his beloved Grandma decided it’s the time to ask for birthday gift from his Grandma. He had already got a beautiful bicycle from his dad and a remote controlled toy car from his mother.

“Grandma, I want a puppy” he asked. Grandma was not at all surprised. She knew her grandchild’s interest with pets for a very long time. So he was expecting to be asked for such a gift from her grand child right from the morning.

After Mahesh slept off, Grandma slowly went to the back side of the mouse. There lying in the cold was a tiny black colored puppy, that due to some genetic deformity looked so bad. Grandma poured of some milk for it. The mother of that puppy- a street dog- had died after delivering six puppies including this one, after being hit by a speeding lorry.

Few days later, Saroja, middle aged women in the neighborhood came to meet grandma along with her ten year old daughter. She used to come to see Grandma often to share her problems- mostly to complain about her drunken husband’s cruelty. That day, however she had yet another reason for coming. Her daughter wanted to have a puppy, and she had come to take the motherless puppies lying in the house. Grandma asked Saroja’s daughter to select any one of the puppies and take it to their home. “Take anything other than that black one. It looks bad” was the first comment from Saroja. After some selection dilemmas her daughter ended up with the white one with few brown spots near its neck.

After Saroja, came people in neighborhood one after one, each selecting their favorite puppy, and all that remained there was this black one, which thanks to its ugliness was rejected by all of them. “From tomorrow, it would be Mahesh’s pet”, decided the grandma.

………………………………

A year later…........

…………………………………

“Blacky” called Mahesh. Blacky was the name given by him to the puppy gifted by his grandmother to him. It had been one long year, and Blacky had become his close companion. He had taught it to play football and various other games. Blacky had grown up into an obedient dog that simply loved its master Mahesh.

“Grandma, I want to celebrate Blacky’s birthday like we celebrate mine”, said Mahesh. He remembered Granny saying that Blacky was born on the Independence Day.

“Sure, why not” said Grandma.

“We got to buy cakes, candles and all those things” – Mahesh.

“Okay” – Grandma.

“For my birthday, Ramya and Suresh (his cousins) come. In the same way, I want Blacky’s brothers and sisters to attend its birthday” – Mahesh.

“We don’t know where are its brothers and sisters” – Grandma.

“You have said to me earlier that Saroja aunty, Rajappan uncle, watch man uncle, Renuka’s mother are those who took and went Black’s brothers and sisters. We can go and ask them”, said Mahesh.

Grandma was astonished at her grandchild’s memory power. She was happy that he remembers so vividly the details she might have said casually long time back and she readily agreed to his plan. The next day Mahesh set out in the morning with the purpose of inviting the brothers and sisters of Blacky for birthday celebrations.

After few hours, Mahesh was back to the house but the happiness in his face was missing. He was at the verge of crying. His grandma’s question of “What happened” opened the floodgates for the tears as they came rolling down.

“Saroja Aunty says that the puppy dies long back. Rajappan uncle said that the puppy ran back some where. The watchman uncle is the worst. He says he doesn’t even remember taking any puppy from our house. Why they are so irresponsible? I feel so sad for those puppies” – Mahesh said all these things still crying.

Grandma tries to wipe out the tears from his face. “Don’t cry child” She tried to pacify him. Blacky came there at the moment from some where and stated licking Mahesh’s legs.

“Thank God, they did not take Blacky. Otherwise even he would have ended up suffering” saying this, Mahesh hugged his pet.

“Thank God, Blacky was born ugly, and was rejected by those who don’t deserve him” said Granny.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The above story was lying in the bed. In the bed, a twenty eight year old lady was sleeping. She was dark, and her face had spots all over thanks to the chicken pox, she had when she was young. This story was written by her close friend, and he gave it to her, after she was rejected by the first prospective bridegroom citing her lack of beauty. She felt confident after reading the story. From then, when ever she feels upset after prospective bridegrooms reject her one after one due to the same reason, she reads the story.

Now I will tell the same line, I told in the beginning:

“She had read that story twenty five times so far.”

If only it had rained for some more time .............. (Short Story)

Today, Hindu Newspaper Headlines :( January 25th)

“Youth killed as Bus run over him- Yet another victim due to lack of subway”

Time 6.00 Pm Indian Standard Time: (January 23rd)

Have you heard of Nairobi before reading this line? If your answer is yes, any one of the three points given below should be true.

1) You should have been recently memorizing the capitals of all countries as you are fancying your chances in taking part in some quiz competition.
2) Your favorite subject in school should have been geography.
3) You must be a cricket fan.

If you are wondering what a cricket fan has to do with cricket, then since now and then cricket matches are being played in Nairobi, the capital of Kenya, I felt cricket fans would have heard of this capital city in the Dark Continent. And today one such cricket match is all set to take place in Nairobi – a one day international between India and Australia. The match should have begun by now. In fact it should have begun at 2.00 Pm Indian standard time. But rain in the morning meant that match had to be delayed. With the cricketers sitting in the dressing room trying hard to avoid looking anxious and with the sports channel covering the match telecasting some old matches, rain God ‘Varuna’ decided to call off the rain. And the players are now all set to enter the field.


A flat in Anna nagar, Chennai, Time 6.00 Pm Indian Standard Time: (January 23rd)


“I will do it later ma” screaming the fourteen year old teenager came and sat in the sofa in front of the television set. When he said “I will do it later”, he was referring to the task of cleaning the small dust gathered in the kitchen. His mother had asked him to do it for quite few days now. But he had some how managed to keep on postponing the work. This avid cricket fan was prepared to watch the cricket match in Nairobi but the rain there meant he was disappointed. He felt irritated and kept on doing some silly things before he thought he could use the time meaningfully by doing that task, his mother gave few days ago. Just as he was about to start the work, the rain had stopped in Nairobi and the match was about to begin. So he shouted the statement in the first line of this paragraph and came to watch the match, as the dust in the kitchen remained there happily.

In the same flat in Anna nagar, Chennai, Time 8.00 Am Indian Stanard Time: (January 24th)

She was cooking in the kitchen. She had salt in one hand, which she wanted to put into one of the dishes, when she noticed that gathered dust. She had asked her son to clean it few days ago, but he is yet to do it. “He is always like this, and I cant scold him also. His Dad will immediately jump in support of him”, she thought within her mind. She decided to clean it herself. And she cleaned it too. Unfortunately in the process, she forgot about the salt and the dish went to the dining table without the salt.

He was very upset. The alarm clock had ditched him once again. He was supposed to be in the meeting by 9’0 clock. It’s such a crucial client meeting. Before that he also has to dodge the heavy traffic to reach his company “Jagadha Agro Products”, where he is the Accounts officer. With all these things weighing heavy in his mind he came to the dining table.

Few moments later, the dishes in the table were flying in the air. “Can’t even eat good breakfast” shouting he left the dinning table. With the car key playing few minutes of hide and seek with him, he left the house, with the absence of the salt in the dish serving as a very good catalyst in changing his irritant mood to that of anger.


A small rented house in Anna nagar, Chennai, Time 6.00 Pm Indian Standard Time: (January 23rd)

His uniform had been kept folded in one of the shelves. He is the bus driver in the MTC (Madras Transport Corporation). Tomorrow morning he has to report to duty at morning 5’0 clock in Ayyapanthangal Depot as he has to drive the first 17M bus leaving from there to Parrys. He usually used to sleep by 9’o clock whenever he has early morning duty, but today with the India Australia match being so interestingly poised, he couldn’t help but watch the entire match. When he finally slept after the presentation ceremonies were over, the time read 11.30 Pm in the clock.

Jagadha Agro products, Vadapalani, Chennai. Time 9.00 Am Indian Standard Time: (January 24th)

His eyes were very reddish due to the lack of sleep for the past few days. How could he get to sleep when he has so many problems? He needs fifty thousand rupees immediately. He had lost the marriage jewels of his younger sister and he is yet to inform the parents about it. He couldn’t even think what will be their reaction, if he says it to them. He had tried getting money from many places, but he was not able to. At last one of his friends said that his relative who is working as a accounts officer in Jagadha Agro Products has agreed to lend him the money. He is waiting for him. The receptionist has said he would be here by 9’o clock usually.

He saw him, his friend’s relative coming. He went and stood in front of him and said “Sir”.

As you know he was already late for the meeting and in sense of anger caused due to lack of salt in his break fast and felt very bad when this guy came and disturbed him as he was rushing to the meeting and shouted, “What man! Your eyes are so reddish. Did you really lose your sister’s jewels or you drank with the money you got by selling those jewels. If I had been in your place I would have committed suicide by now. Get lost. ” To be fair to him, he did not really mean it. His mind was filled with frustration and he just wanted to let them out. So next minute he said “Okay. Come in the afternoon”, but then he was not there to listen to it.

He was walking slowly along the road. He felt very dejected. He was crossing the road, when the words “If I had been in your place I would have committed suicide by now” started to echo in his ears. He saw a bus coming fast towards him. He decided enough is enough. He went and fell in front of the bus.

That bus was 17M. The driver of the bus had slept late last night and it is taking its toll now as he is driving his second trip. He saw a guy falling in front of the bus few microseconds later due to the drowsiness he had. That few microseconds was all that mattered. The bus ran over him.

END:

A stranger standing there remarked, “These MTC bus drivers are always like this. They drive so rashly”. His friend countered it, “I don’t think the driver is at fault here. What can he do if some one goes and falls right in front of the bus”. Another person who came down from the bus said, “This bus driver was driving very rashly right from the start. He was about to hit an auto just few moments before”.

Each one was giving their reason for the death of that guy. As we saw earlier, The Hindu cited the lack of subways as the reason for his death.

But only us, who have read the entire story know that, if only that Accounts officer had not got angry, if only the driver had applied the breaks few micro seconds earlier, , if only the driver had not felt drowsy, if only the Accounts officer’s wife had put the salt in the dish, if only the driver had not felt drowsy, if only the Account’s officers son had cleaned the kitchen the day before, if only the driver had slept at the correct time the day before,

If only in Nairobi, which is thousands of kilometers away from Chennai, it had rained for some more time.

Suicide (SHORT STORY)

I went and stood at the end of that long line. There were around two to three hundred people in front of me and I felt that it may take around two hours. Nevertheless I decided that I got to do it today. I can't postpone it, especially after all those things I had to undergo yesterday in my home - No I can't call it as my home any more after all those things that happened.

I decided to spend the time standing here usefully, by conversing with a eight year old girl, who is standing in front of me. I wondered when was the last time I had an conversation with a stranger.

"Whats your name" - I started off.

She said some thing. I was not able to understand it. These days they keep such crazy names to the kids. She did not seem to be too much fascinated to converse with me. But I decided to continue it any how.

"Why are you standing here"

"My dad scolded me"

"You should have went to Court"

"I went, they said scolding is a right punishment for disturbing him when he was going out with his Girl friend....." - Then she started using some words that should not be used by a eight year old kid.

I wanted to continue the conversation, but couldn't. In this TWENTY FIFTH century, where life is being dominated by 'Telemessages', we have even forgotten the basic "Speech", which has in the first place distinguished man from other animals, that are extinct now.

By the way, I am yet to say, why am I standing here. I thought you would know it. In this Twenty Fifth century, where we get every thing (when I say every thing, I mean every thing) right from Wife to groceries just by the click of the button, the only thing for which we need to stand in line is to commit SUICIDE.

Even Suicide used to be very simple before. But only last year, the World Leader decided to scrap Online Suicide and also announced only one Suicide camp would be open per city. He made this decision in order to some how increase the population, which is drastically reducing. He thought at least the prospect of standing in a long line would deter people from committing suicide. But for people like me, it is never going to be a deterrent.

Government officials forced some E-Papers into every one's hand. It would be some crap about "Why we should not commit suicide" - Yet another policy of World Government to reduce Suicide. I started reading it, just because there is nothing else to do. I wanted to kill time some how, before I could kill myself.

It contained a Twentieth century story. "John was sleeping in the cot waiting to die. He had taken poison just few minutes ago .................". The story just continued. I was wholly absorbed in it.

After I read the story, I felt bit of struggle with in my mind. The lead character of the story had no special talents. He had so many problems. And by luck he was saved by his next door neighbor as he was trying to commit suicide and he went on to achieve greater glory. On the other hand, I have so many special talents. I have even received Special Awards from World Science Minister. I have very few problems. Why should I commit suicide. My mind was oscillating.But I had to decide fast.

The girl in front of me had entered the suicide building. In thirty seconds, She would be converted to ashes in the 'Nuclear Chamber". I had to decide soon.

I made up my mind. I will Live. I will attain Glory. I went out of the line.

Just then the cop, who was standing there shouted "What the Hell are you thinking. You stand in line and then leave away. Why are you just trying to increase the length of the line. Do you have no other work".

The cop is just a C grade officer in Government. I am a A grade officer, and he has scolded me, that too in Public. What is the use of Living here after this.

I went and again stood in that LONG LINE.

Some practices in marraiges here

Why is it that very loud music (Nathaswaram, drums etc) are played during marriages here?
Marriage is believed to me one of the most important and happiest moment in a person's life. (Though few may differ with the usage of adjective 'Happy'). Hence it's essential that both bride and the bridegroom and their close relatives and friends get to hear only happy words during the occasion. But then thousands of people attend the marriage and they will have their own conversation going with their friends and during the conversation some words may come up, which could upset the bride/ bridegroom during the time of the happy occasion.

Imagine some one talking in the cellphone angrily saying "Get lost, you will never succeed in life" and bride/ bridegroom gets to over hear that. And it is also practically impossible to request/order all those people who have come to marriage to refrain from using those words. Hence in order to make sure that those words never reach bride/bridegroom, so that they can continue to be in high spirits, loud music is played during marriages.




Why is that marriages are not allowed to take place during the Tamil month 'Marghili' (from mid December to Mid January)? In ancient days, most of the people are farmers. And here in Tamil nadu, the major harvest is done during January, and December to January is supposed to be the busiest month for the farmer. And in those days, marriage means a very long affair, that took up a long time. And if a marriage was scheduled during the busy period, it would cause inconvenience to all those concerned. Relatives would find it very difficult to come to attend the marriage when they were needed to be present in their place looking after their crops. Hence marriage was not allowed to be held during the month of 'Marghili'.



"In Western countries, marriage is between two individuals, in Eastern countries marriage is between two families".

BEST MOVIES(???) OF THE YEAR 2007

Merchant of Death:

Stars: Narendra Modi, Sonia Gandhi, Keshubai Patel, Media.

A typical masala movie .The story line was simple. At the beginning of the movie, the major villain Sonia Gandhi, Media, Election commission of India every one seems to be against the Hero ‘Modi’. In fact the film starts sensationally with Sonia describing Modi as the Merchant Of Death” and the media showing flash backs of 2001 riots. Later with the other veteran BJP leader Keshubai Patel and other BJP rebels also joining hands with the villains, and exit polls predicting defeat to Modi it seems the Hero is struggling. But as typical of any masala movie, the Hero makes a massive comeback and defeats every one and delivers a famous dialogue “I am a CM always, for me CM means Common Man”.

It was a very impressive performance by Modi, who has played a hero role. This is his second movie, after the first movie “Gujarat riots” in which he acted as a villain. In fact his public speeches in the film are full of fire. The dialogue writer deserves a special round of applause. The major villain Sonia Gandhi fails to impress us except in the first scene when she calls Modi “the merchant of death”. The comedy role is being played by Union minister Kapil Sibel, who tries to defend his party leader Gandhi through out the film from Election Commission for her Merchant Of Death remark, although every other character is being over shadowed by the awesome performance by the Hero.

The story line is very good, but there are two confusions at the end of the movie, 1) Did the hero succeed because of development or because of Hindutva or because of the mixture of the two and 2) Are the senior BJP leaders happy or sad at the hero’s success. The Director promises there will be a sequel to the movie in few years time with the base place being changed from Gujarat to India, but before that film he has to clarify these confusions.


2) Right Combination:

Stars: Mayawati.

Yet another masala movie similar to that of “Merchant Of Death” but the lead role is played by leading heroine Mayawati. The film begins with Mayawati trying to find a right balance of caste mixture in laboratory so that she can win her elections and she finds the right combination , FC+SC. She experiments it in the elections and wins it quite comfortably. In fact she comes in almost all the scenes of the movie, that sometimes we tend to feel that she is the only character in the movie. Nevertheless we never get tired of her and a brilliant performance by her. The movie ends with she saying that the experiment will be performed in larger scale through out the country, and one has to wait and see whether she will able to give a hit that time too.


3) Indian Juggernaut:

Star: Indian cricket team.

The movie begins with the Houses of the Indian players being hit with stones after world cup debacle in West Indies and ends with the Open Bus Drive in Mumbai after Twenty 20 success. The film has everything that the average audience asks for. The climax in which the Indian team defeats the arch rival Pakistan in the final of the Twenty 20 world cup is the best climax one has seen in recent years. There are various poetic moments in the movie like the one when Yuvraj hits Broad for 6 sixes in a over after the verbal dual with Flintoff and the producer seems to have been very magnanimous in spending for the last scene of the movie where the team gets a heroic reception back home. Over all, a typical sports movie with lot of masala.

4) Neighborhood chaos:

Star: Benazir Bhutto, Nawaz Sherrrif, Musharaff.

A tragedy movie with the base in Pakistan, the film has bombing scenes once in every five minutes. The movie begins with the Benazir Bhutto, the heroine giving a TV interview where she says, she doesn’t fear death, and ends in her funeral. In the tragic script with very high violence, the director tried to introduce few comedy scenes towards the end of the movie, when the Pakistan Government said that Bhutto died because her head hit some part of her car, but it looked very artificial. Nawaz Sheriff performed his character role superbly, although when he cried so naturally after Bhutto’s death, no one was sure whether it was because of her death or for the fear for his own safety.

5) Who Killed Him?

Star: Bob Woolmer, Jamaican Police, Pakistani Cricket team.

A thriller inter woven with cricket world cup, with the Jamaican beauty in the back ground. With good screen play, this could have been a block buster movie of the year. When Pakistan team lost to Ireland and few days later Pakistani Coach dies, every one in the theatre sits up expecting a brilliant movie. But sadly the directors ideas seemed to run out after those initial scenes, and at the end of the movie , no one including the director seems to have any idea as to who was the culprit. The Jamaican police played the major comedy role, giving one reason every day for Bob's death. Through out the movie, no one has any idea whether the Pakistani team is an innocent or a culprit.

6) Deal, Deal:

Star: Manmohan Singh, Communists

A super hit comedy film of the year. The greatness of the movie lies in that there is no story. There is some thing called nuclear deal, which the director does not explain what to the audience through out the movie, either because he feels they will not understand or because he himself did not understood it. Through out the movie, Manmohan singh wants the deal to be signed and the communists does not want it to be signed. Director maintains a delicate balance and no one really finds out whether they are friends or enemies till the movie ends. But together they run a company called Indian Government and third character called BJP looks in anticipation when ever they fight hoping that their company will collapse, so that they could get the company but unfortunately they end up dejected at the end of the movie. No one knows what happened in the end of the movie, but the comedy played by the communists in the movie is appreciated widely by every one and people just went to the film to relax after the hectic day at office.

7) Karnataka thamasha:

Star: Devagowda, Kumaraswamy.

Yet another comedy movie. In contrast to the previous movie, there was a story in this movie, but it was too complicated that no one understood it a bit. Nevertheless the movie was single handedly supported by the comedy actor Mr. DewaGowda. His son Kumaraswmay also tried to play his part in the comedy, but he was no match to his experienced father. Father – Son show saved the movie from being utter flop.

8) Nandhigram Killings:

Star: Budhadev, Mamta Banarjee

The movie was a interesting tussle between Budhadev and Mamata set up in Nandigram. No one until the end of the movie could find out who was the hero or the villain, and the director needs to be congratulated for maintaining the suspense. But the movie had lot of violent scenes, with the record number of rape scenes too, and bit of comedy too with communists wearing police dress during the mid part of the movie.

9) Doctor treatment:

Star: Ramadoss, Karunanithi

The film is set in Tamil Nadu, and Ramadoss played the role of a comedy hero who opposes any scheme brought by the CM Karunanithi. The climax of the movie sees a brilliant verbal fight between Arcot Veeraswamy , Karuna’s associate and Ramadoss. Ramdoss’s son Dr.Anbumani also chipped in with his comedy role.


10) The Great Family War:

Star: Karunanithi, Azlagiri, Maran brothers.

A family sentimental movie. The movie begins with the entire Karunanithi’s family happily singing a family song. But soon the problem begins. With Maran brothers trying to gain popularity over Karunanithi’s sons, ever violent Azalagiri turns even more violent. With Madurai literally burning, Karunanithi feels his sons are more important to him than his niece’s sons. As a result serious of highly sentimental scenes follow , and the film ends up with the Dayanithi Maran losing ministry and Kalainjar TV being launched. Best sentimental movie of the year.

Familiar but cruel story

"We will not tolerate this any more" - Prime Minister Dr.ManmohanSingh and UPA chair person SoniaGandhi.

"This is a result of the minority appeasement policies of the Government which is always soft on terrorists. - BJP leaders and other NDA partners.

"Breaking news: Terror strikes again. Attacks in ________ (Hyderabad/ UP/ Mumbai) claims the life of innocent citizens" - Flash news in Major English news channels in India.

"Oh! God, so many people died mm " - The reaction of most of the public in India, before changing the news channels to continue watching the cricket match or the serials.

---- Familiar story, isn't it. Ya these things are said every time some terrorists strike some parts of India killing innocent people. No one knows what these terrorists intend to achieve. Even the Indian intelligence services seems to have no clue. Time and again the only thing they tend to discover is that the terrorist apparently had some links to Pakistan. Great discovery indeed, discovery that a common Indian makes the moment he sees some terror related news. May be perhaps that is the reason why, terrorists this time around sent an Email saying that they are in no way related to Pakistan. And again great discovery was made by the Indian Police- "The contents of the Email may not be true. It might be just a smoke screen" - Discovery which again every average Indian could have made.

By the way, i was wondering just what the terrorists are achieving by this. Any way what they are doing is not affecting India , it seems. Of course the only change they make in the lives of ordinary Indian is that they force them to listen to barters of complains by the various political party leaders against each other for letting the terorists to do such a thing. Other than that an Indian seems to be not affected too much, right.

No, on outside it may seem so, but wait a minute and look closer. When you look deeper you will find out that some people have died. For country with hundred billion population, death of few individuals may not matter much, but for the family with five members? What if the innocent victim of terror happens to be the lone bread winner of the family. Then the family not only faces an emotional crisis but an financial one as well. Even the loss of a limb, hand and other such things that happen in such terror strikes may result in those unfortunate families having to go through lot of crisis.

This is the exact reason why these terror attacks hurts me more. Next time when you see an terror related news in an news channel, just imagine for a moment what would have been your reaction, if one of the victim was your blood relative. It may cause you a few sleepless nights. But don't worry. Those few sleepless nights wont harm your health much. Rather it would help in creating a society which is deeply against any terrorist activity, which is exactly what we want if India needs to develop as a terror free country in Future.

WELCOME TO INDIA

India is now hard trying to sell its brand in the world. From the land of tigers and snakes , now the world is seeing India as a country of great hope, as a country that has innumerable software engineers and has country that is fast changing the dynamics of the world.

Now more foreigners are visiting in India, not just to visit the Tajmahal and other historic monuments, not just as CEO 's to oversee their companies overseas operation in India, but also to get trained here in software field. Even our batch ( I am undergoing training in Infosys) has around twenty such people from US.

I would like to share few real incidents that one of them shared with us. When one among them was walking in the streets of Bangalore, one police man had approached him and said "Hi you are from US, you must be having lot of money, Why don't you give us some?". I felt terribly bad as an Indian, when i heard that. What sort of image India will get? What he will tell about India once he returns to US.

It is relating to corruption, I could understand that at least because we all know India is in fact very corrupt. But the next incident that he said shook me a lot.

He added that he and his friends (he is White but some of his friends were blacks from US) went to one bar in Mysore. Only foreigners go to that bar. The blacks were refused admission into that bar and they also said only Whites are allowed inside that bar and even Indians are not allowed inside. This guy fed up with that racial discrimination, said that if my black friends are not allowed in, neither I'm coming and returned back without entering.

He dint say anything, but his look after narrating that incident seemed to be asking, " How the hell do you permit people to deny entry for your own people in your own country". When US government denies visa to few of our people we get upset. But then inside our own country , there are these establishments ,which deny entry to the sons and daughters of the soil.

Is it fair? Is it the image we are going to provide to foreigners visiting India? What is the use of our tourism ministry spending so much for advertisements, when at the end we are giving to provide such an poor image of our country.

Let's do something immediately about it. We can't attract tourists by just showing ads, please every one of us understand that.

BLOG AFTER A LONG TIME

Few days ago , as I was watching Sun Music, there a female caller was talking to teh person conducting the program. In that program, when the anchor asked her where she will take her mother in law during free time, shje replied spontaneously that she won't take her anywhere, and also unleashed a barrage of remarks on the negatives of her mother in law. When the anchor asked what if her mother in law see this program, she proudly said that she was currently in a village where the sun tv does not come.

Agreed in almost every house there will be differences between mother in law and daughter in law, but then is that a issue that needs to be shared in a mass media? Can a person who speaks so bad about her own mother in law in front of virtually the entire world, can be a good mother?

In the same program, she later said that she has a young child. I pity for that child.

Was The Tamil Nadu Government Fair?

In the shoot out incident at Virginia Tech, US, the death toll included the 51 year old Indian professor of civil and environmental engineering, namely G.V.Loganathan, and the entire Tamil nadu was shocked to see that one of the Tamilian was killed in a brutal incident across the other side of the globe. Each and every one of Tamil nadu felt as though one of their family member has passed away. The Media's continued telecast of the grieving relatives of the professor increased the people's sympathy towards the family. Every one in Tamil nadu prayed that his soul must rest in peace and asked God to give the confidence to his wife and daughters to face the rest of their life without him.


When we move through the life of the deceased professor, it is seen that he hails from a small village in Erode district of Tamil nadu and had worked hard and earned a place in IIT, one of the premier institutes of India. Giving due credit to him, we ought to state that for the greater heights he achieved, many people need to be praised, including his teachers during school days, who transformed the young mind from rural areas into an intellectual one fit enough to study in IIT. We also need to remember the many IIT professors and we the people (Remember, the Indian Government gives huge subsidy to IIT, (i.e.) our tax are being utilized by those studying in IIT) are also responsible for him achieving greater heights.


But some how the deceased professor felt it would be better for him to teach US students rather than students from his own country. I have no problems with that. He has every right to decide where to work. The professor also felt for some strange reasons that his body be buried in US and not in India, which contributed mostly to his success. Again I have no problems, as every individual has a right to decide where he needs to be buried. Immediately after his death, the Tamil Nadu Government took steps to make sure that his relatives received passport immediately and visas without much delay. I appreciate that on the humanitarian grounds that a family which is already struggling with the fact that they have a lost a close one was not put into much more trouble.


But then the Government decided to sponsor the entire travel expenses of the family members for their travel to the funeral. It is where I disagree. Why has the Government decided to spend the tax money of the people (every one, even a beggar pays 50p as sales tax, when he buys a soap) to sponsor the relatives from attending the funeral of a person who must have been earning more than what most of people from Tamil nadu earn, who studied with the help of tax payers money but did not want to repay it and who did not want even his body to be buried here?

At least if he had died due to fault of the Government of India or Tamil nadu, we could understand Government helping them as a compensation. But he died due to the fault of the US government , the country he seems to have cherished so much that he wanted his body to be buried there. If any Government had to pay for the expenses, it should have been the US government, not the Tamil nadu government.

There are so many villagers, who help us to get food every day and serve us in what ever way possible, and at last die due to various factors like lack of proper treatment in Government Hospital, lack of proper transportation facilities in the villages to transport the ill, etc. But when those people die ( here the Tamil nadu Government is actually responsible for their fate) the Government does not give a single paise for their funeral. I know many families who literally beg so that they can do their last rites to their deceased family members. Worse still, in most of the Government Hospitals they don’t allow the people to take the corpse out of the hospital unless they pay the bribe to concerned people. Is it the equality our constitution teaches us?

So the moral of this incident: If you want the Government to help with your funeral, get all possible help from India as possible and then go to abroad and don’t serve your country. If you want the Government to neglect you and worse demand bribe to take your corpse to your home, you stay in the country, work hard and do what ever little you can do for the country.

JAI HIND

SUN - THE BEST FINANCE MINISTER?

Most of you would know the mechanism of rain formation. You would have studied about it in the science books of your primary schools. Any way let me again take you through the mechanism of rain formation.

Three fourth of the earth is filled with water. But most of the water is present in a salty state in ocean and hence not useful to the humans for consumption. Here is where the almighty Sun comes to our rescue. The sun absorbs the excess of water from the ocean through evaporation and then pours them down in the lands as rain. The rain helps every one in the world, whatever be their race, religion, language, customs, culture, etc.

Imagine what would happen if the sun does not does this activity. The excess of water in the ocean would be wasted and we the people would die due to lack of water. Imagine what would happen if Sun decides to absorb all the water in the ocean, rather than absorbing only the excess if water from the ocean? The ocean would dry up, marine animals would die, the eco system would be upset, and the world would cease to exist. But the Sun absorbs the excess of water from the ocean in the right proportion that the life in earth continues to survive.

Now compare the excess if water in the ocean to the excess of money in the hands of rich. The Government should act like a sun in that it should absorb the excess of money from the wealthy in the form of tax and distribute it to all sections of the society, without showing any partiality due to their religion, language, race, culture or customs. The government should also follow the other Golden rule of the sun, that if all the water of ocean gets absorbed, life in earth would be upset. In the same way the Government should tax the wealthy in such a way that only the excess money gets absorbed. If this rule of sun is followed by all the Governments, it would result in happiness and prosperity.

PS: The views expressed in this article are not my novel idea. These ideas are derived from the works of an unknown Tamil poet who lived around two thousand years ago. So it would be helpful for our Honorable Union Minister for Finance if he could replace some of the economics books in his shelf with the Sangam literature books.

Long Live Tamil!

Temples And Exams

Going to temple just before exams is a trend now a days, more so before important examinations like public exams. Many people ask a query, "Will the God help you, if you don't study anything and then go and ask God's blessings in the last minute?". Ya I do agree. God may not help such a person.

But what about the student who has studied well. Will going to temple before the exams would be of any advantage to him? The answer may differ, depending on the beliefs of the person. But my answer is YES, the person will benefit. Don't feel that I am saying this just because I believe in God. I will give you some scientific explanation to prove that a student who goes to temple regularly before exams will benefit from it and score better marks.

1) Scientific experiments conducted by psychologists suggest that, if we say some thing for many times, it increases the probability of that thing happening. That is if you say "I want to get good marks in the exam, I want to get good marks in the exam" every day, it increases your self confidence and there by increases your probability of getting good marks. This is exactly what you do in temple. You say to God every time "Please help me get good marks" with at most sincerity and belief e very time you go to temple. Applying the same principle here, your probability to get good marks increases with visits to temple.

2) "Students who study seriously, often neglect regular exercises and proper diet. As a result they get into trouble during exam days in the form of sickness or disease"- says many famous doctors. But in today's fast paced world, students never get time to do any exercise. When they go to temple, they are supposed to walk around the temple once or thrice, thus they get proper exercise. Some of the 'Prasadams' like 'Tulasi' offered in temples also helps to keep the disease away. Thus the visit to temple serves to keep the students fit without their knowledge, and thereby boost their performance in exams.

3) Meditation improves concentration. Hence it helps to concentrate better in studies. This is the fact accepted by many educationalists. Very few students could afford to get a quiet room alone in their house to do meditation. On the other hand, when they go to temple, they are supposed to sit in the temple for some time in silence just before they return back. This provides a proper setting for meditation at least for few minutes and helps the students to concentrate better in studies.

4) Due to the extreme pressure students face just before the important examinations from all quarters including parents, teachers and other well wishers, they study virtually twenty four hours, few days before exams. Every person would agree, students would preform better, if they take a bit of break in regular intervals, relax and then study. It will help them to study with more energy and determination. Whenever you ask the students to relax, most of them immediately switch on their television sets or start playing video games. I am sure, even my atheist friends would agree that going to a temple would serve as a better source of relaxation then watching television or playing video games. If they go to temple during the time they take break, they not only get time to relax themselves but also derive the above said three benefits.

My first essay

I did my first creative writing when I was around six years old, a essay on 'Bus', written in my mother tongue, Tamil. When ever I just come across this essay of mine, while my mother arranges the old trunk boxes, I congratulate myself for the logical mind I had even when I was so young. Frankly most part of that essay, written in a yellowish paper which is at the verge of being torn now, deals about the external appearance of the bus, uses of the bus and the other such silly things that excites a six year old. It also has a small diagram of a bus drawn in crayon. But what excites me most about that essay even today is one particular paragraph.

Before I write about that paragraph, I need to give you some information. In those days, the buses in Tamil nadu were run by different transport corporations, depending on the district in which the bus runs. Each transport corporation had names of famous personalities, kings etc, and the names were painted in bold letters on either side of the bus. Now there are only few transport corporations in Tamil nadu and they have their names of the cities in which the head quarters of the transport corporation is situated. (eg, Villupuram transport corporation.) The names of the personalities were replaced by cities names, since the people belonging to every caste wanted the names of the famous leaders of their caste to be given to transport corporation, and it led to lot of chaos and the Government could tolerate it no more.

In those days, the buses in my district were run by Dr. MGR transport corporation, named after former chief minister of Tamil nadu.( the fact I did not know then). The buses in Chennai were run by Pallavan transport corporation.

Now lets read the translation of that paragraph:

"The buses in Chennai were named after Pallavas, who were the kings of areas surrounding Chennai (as I had studied in history). The buses running in my village are named after Dr. MGR. So I think Dr. MGR must have been the king of areas surrounding my village."

My logical thinking (!!!) had converted the chief minister of Tamil nadu to the petty king of my village. Any how I still admire my creativity at such a young age and look myself in the mirror with pride.

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