Love & Crisis

(inspired from My Wrong Love Story)

Sharanya frown herself with frustration at herself in the mirror. Though it was chilling, she undressed slowly for observing her body in mirror, which was fleshing out. When she was naked she selected a dark top and saggy trouser to wear, so that the fats she has gained would not show. Damn my hair, it just won’t behave, she cried. She was getting late for networking classes. She restrained her wayward hair in a ponytail, and made it semi-presentable.

                        Life was treating her in bad way. This networking course which she has joined recently was giving her some ray of hope. Despite being an engineer graduate, she was rendered jobless. Rejections in campus placement made her mentally weak, that’s why she has not even tired for off-campus. Frustration overshadowed her optimism, when she came to know her younger cousin Lavanya got placed in a reputed IT company.  There cannot be true despair without hope, and she want to overcome that despair. Hence, Sharanya tried challenge of becoming proud BPO employee. Her parent opposed her decision, but she doesn't want to see herself dying in front of TV & internet without doing anything.

Good Morning Sir, how can I help you? BPO job was totally a lame decision for Sharanya and it was not at all helping her out. She was feeling nettled from constant telecalling with varied customers. Her sleepless night has not only disfavored her beauty and sleep but also her attitude. It took 2 months to realize that she was in wrong thing and finally she decided to quit.

Daylight has fallen when Sharanya walked out the gate of her apartment. A chilly winter has welcomed her with fog. Love was in the air of Noida, every corner of road was occupied with young couples warming each others. Enjoying the initial few moments, Sharanya let her body feel and embrace the cold surrounding her, but she could not bear it for long. #nose went pink. Soon she pulled out her jacket and zipped it up till her neck. The foggy breath that she exhaled was visible. It was that cold. Second later, she pulled out the mobile from her pocket, and switched to Radio FM. ‘Rehna Tu’ of Delhi 6 was on air. On the way, she saw the hoarding of Fitness world which she was planning to join for reducing her fats; and to spend entire salary which she has earned from her BPO job.

There was a time, when guys use to turn around to notice her when she passes around them. During her Engineering life, she was slim & in fact she was self-obsessed by her looks. She uses to examine herself in-front of the mirror for hours. The girl in the mirror had a lively face with long black hair. Her features were regular and fine, sensitive mouth & had a firm good figure with well developed gently curving hips and shapely legs. At present, Sharanya curses herself, why she agreed for night shifts. Still she uploads old pics of her college times as her profile pic in Facebook. These days she hated Facebook and other social networking sites, because everyone asks her about jobs and placement.

However, it was through Facebook she came to know about networking course.  One evening, while checking who are online, she went online in Facebook. Suddenly, Lavanya pinged her.  

‘Wats up di? long tym no see’.

What to reply? Bloody bitch knows my condition then what the fuck she wanna know. May be she wanna confirm, that I m useless & dying in front of TV.

Sharanya replied politely, ‘Hi dear…nice to see you after long. When is ur joining?

She told her that she is probably going to get joining next year. Sharanya interrupted her and said that she’s in rush & will talk with her later. Lavanya understood that she’s going through hard time. She dropped the message in her inbox regarding networking courses and opportunities related with those courses. Sharanya was mortified knowing that her younger cousin is guiding her. But she understood that she wants to help her out. Later, she searched for best networking institutes in Noida, she found one with best placements records and enrolled herself one month ahead of it.

                                                Finally she reached her destination, Merchant House. It’s newly constructed six-story office building, all curved glass and steel, with Merchant’s House written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors. It was one and half kilometers from her place. All the scooties were parked near to the gate. She daily preferred walking to reach this building, so that it can help her to burn calories. She even prefers stairs to reach 3rd floor of the building, where classes are held.

“Hello….huh...may I come in??” Sharanya interrupted the class.

Everybody was staring at her. Sharanya was pretty embarrassed while the entire student’s eyes were fixated on her.“Oh you’re late. Come in early tomorrow. Please come in now!” The staff-in-charge was rather a serious person. Sharanya turned around to gaze around the classroom. No empty chairs were visible. She evinced her disappointment. Still everyone was staring at her, now with disgrace. She hurriedly walked inside hoping to find an empty place to sit. “Please settle down quickly “lecturer shouted. There was just one empty chair beside a guy. She was left with no other choices, but walked over to the empty chair and sat.

                                                       Class resumed. She took out her mobile, and she came to know that she’s 15 minutes late. Bloody Hell, what this sucker is teaching, she moaned. Everybody was nodding their heads, and was solving their problems. I have to ask someone; otherwise entire topic will bounce from my head. Sharanya then spoke in a lowered tone to the guy next to her. “Hey hello… I’m Sharanya. Could you please tell me what he spoke before I came in?” 
He was sitting by crossing his long legs, dressed in a fine brown leather jacket, white shirt, unruly dark brown colour hair and intense, using Mount Blanc fountain pen. He turned around.
She noticed that his eyes were black, deep black. His voice was deep, possibly vitriolic, but it was difficult for Sharanya to tell from his rude behaviour.

“I’ll tell you later” was his curt response after his cold stare.

For an instant, she felt a thrill of unfeigned fear, raising the hair on her arms. The stare look only lasted a second, but it chilled her more than the freezing wind.

 “What a rogue!” was all Sharanya could think of.

Destiny is matter of chance, it’s a matter of choice; it is a thing to be waited for it & a thing to be achieved. Today, destiny made them seat together, and it has his own plan for them.

*Story continues in next post....

Creation III

the story continues...

Revenge is the purest form of Emotion’ a quote from world biggest epic and my favourite, Mahabharata.  Now it’s sure he knows every bit of mine; but why Chetan is hurting Neha, he has problem with me and with my blog-story. She’s no way related with this matter. Neha needs to know about Chetan and his baneful intentions. I called her up and asked her to come at my room asap. Even I asked her not to tell this to Aditya, in such circumstance it’s better not to trust anyone.

I started cleaning my room. On the table, I saw bud of cigarette; it’s been more than six months I quitted smoking. Perhaps, it belongs to the person who dragged me to my room last night. Chetan punched me; maybe he was in my room. Even, I founded that he also took that concentrated acid from my store. Suddenly I saw glimpse of shadow towards mirror. I saw Chetan in that mirror; he was wearing his same white Lenin Shirt & blue jeans. I was wearing the same. Voices started coming from the mirror, “Why you’re wearing the same dress as mine?”

I mumbled, “I don’t know.”

“May be I want you to do this.” said Chetan.

I screamed, “May be you want me to…. what?”

Chetan laughed, “My dear Rajiv, you only wanted me to kill your doggy ‘Casper’, attack your bitch Neha and make a complete chaos in her mind.”

I cried, “Why I want you to do this?” Chetan smiled & said, “Because you are big time Fattu Rajiv. Your girl was getting nailed by other guy and what you did? Huh? Just pointing a gun on her. You don’t even have balls to press the trigger & shot her.”

“That was a dream.”I explained. “Neha is still my darling, why I wanna hurt her?”

“It was not a dream. Neha betrayed you. You only said huh? ‘There’s no pain greater than being betrayed by the women you love.’ You wanted her to experience the same pain as you did. That’s the reason you brutally murdered her dog, Casper. You attacked her with acid because you hated to see her happy with Aditya, while you are left alone in this creepy apartment from last one year.”

I shouted “It was not me; it was you who did this.”

“No Rajiv. It was you. I am not Chetan, actually there’s no Chetan.” He smiled. “I was created by you, in your blog Girl who played.  All mix of characters…Joker, Don Corleone, all the things you read & praised. I am the personality which you want to become. Hug??? You have written your own story, but later you hated your own ending. That’s why you want me to change the ending.  The only thing that matters is the ending. I came here in you life to fix your story, to take a revenge. That’s why you called her alone, so that you can slaughter her beautiful body.”

There was knocking on the door. Chetan disappeared. I was only there in my room.

Neha was standing on the other side of the door. Finally, the moment has arrived. I went to kitchen, and took off my butcher’s knife. Now I don’t need fusion of Chetan. 

“It’s not about Killing; it’s about sending a message to the society.”

....the end 

Creation: II

 

              Blood bath took place in the balcony, where I found the separated body of Casper. I called Neha, told her about brutal slaughter of our dog. Casper was a gift from me to Neha, on our love-anniversary. She also came to graveyard where I decided to bury Casper, with Aditya. Aditya, was rich business man and her childhood friend, later I caught my babes sleeping around with him. He never appreciated our friendship, maybe he was insecure. She was continuously weeping; plus that motherfucker was consoling her and was giving his matured smile. Later on, I went to Police Station; as expected no one care about cruel killing of a poor dog. At the end, I bribed one Sub-inspector, handed him the note which I found next to the blooded head; he decided to come next morning for further interrogations. On my way I went to bar, boozed a lot, deliberately as it was very difficult for me to sleep after burying my lovable dog and seeing my ex-girlfriend getting soothed by her new beau. 

I reached my apartment, saw notice board in front of Elevator. ‘Lift is not working. Please co-operate.’ Fucking hell, now I have to climb up this mountain of 6 Floors. Stairway was dark, and my vision was tunnelled. Abruptly, I heard a voice, “Kasa Aahe Rajiv?” Chetan came in front of me, wearing same white Lenin shirt and blue jeans. “Oh I missed out, you can write about Marathi’s, but can’t speak the language.”This guy came with complete preparation, I characterized his character as Marathi in my story and he’s delivering exact performance. I shouted out “Was there any need to kill that innocent animal?”

“Yes, it was” Chetan said, “To make you realize how serious I am to my words. I just asked you for compensation.” 

"How much money do you want?" I asked.

“LOL. What do you think; I came here for your fucking money, huh?” He smiled, “It’s not about money. It’s about sending message. You ended my story, claiming that my wife betrayed me for her ex-boyfriend, and I did nothing, huh? The only thing that matters is the ending. I want you to change that ending, portray the story in this way that I trap my wife, Vishaka, in some….” 

“You’re freak” I interrupted, “You killed my dog for this fucking reason, behenchod, I am not going to change anything. You’re a freak, I am not.”

He pushed me back, grabbed my mouth and said, “There’s no pain greater than being betrayed by the woman you love. You know it very well. Don’t you. How you felt huh? When you found your girlfriend getting nailed by her, so-called childhood friend, Aditya. Then how can you end my story in such a lame way.” This guy is way planned up, he knows everything about me. Who told this freak about that incident? I published that blog two months ago, much after that incident. From how many days, this guy is following me. Or is there a possibility, that he’s hired by someone. Who’s my enemy? Aditya? No, he already got what he wants from me. May be, it’s another way of demanding more money.  “How much money you want, I am ready to pay.” Chetan smiled, “Seriously Rajiv. You’re girlfriend was right. You’re totally impossible.” He punched on my face and last thing I remember, he went downstairs.

My mobile was buzzing. I was in my room; I have no idea who dragged me to my room. Entrance door was open. Mobile was notifying 12 missed calls of Neha, and a message ‘Call me asap, itz urgent.’  I called her back, she was crying. “Rajiv, last night someone tried to throw concentrated acid on me. I was not going to tell you, till I found a note in my letter box.”

“What’s there in the note?” I asked. She replied, “Revenge is the purest form of Emotion.”

Story continues in next post….

Creation

                     It was raining heavily; the wiper arm was pounding down the rain-water from my windshield. Blinking of the hotel’s display board in front of my car was nettling my mind. I started hearing them from everywhere, the voices. They continuously echoed in my head. They were asking me to to turn around my car and get inside her room. Another voice was saying not to go back and leave this thing here only. Don’t go back silly, don’t go back. I turn around my car and raced my car towards her apartment. Each step I was taking towards her flat was reminding me of all those moment we spend with each other. I started banging down the shut doors of her house. She came out and was stunned seeing me at her place at wrong time when she was with wrong person. As I saw Aditya coming out of the room, I took out the gun from my pocket and pointed on him. Neha started screaming, since it was thunder night, no neighbour came-out to help her. I was pointing gun at him, suddenly I felt vibration in my pockets. I again started hearing the voices, but these voice were singing, a bollywood song. Oh shit, I am dreaming. My mobile was ringing; I kept alarm on 10:00am to wake up earlier this morning. I took out the mobile from my pocket and turn down the alarm. I opened my eyes, first thing I saw was Casper, my dog, shaking his tail and looking at me with bend head as if he knows what I saw.

                It has been more than a month that I have not waked up this early in morning; all this month I was feeling lazy and my room was a big mess. I took some of the cereals and feeded my dog. Someone knock the door, Casper was still seating calmly and was eating his food. Seriously, hungry dog can never be loyal. I opened the door, but no one was there. I saw glimpse of shadow moving towards the staircase. I ajar the door and moved towards the staircase. I reached the terrace, there I saw a guy standing at a corner with cigarette in his hand. I thought he must be guy from another flat spending his lone time. I smiled at him and was about to move. Of a sudden, that guy waved his hand towards me and said, ‘Hey Rajiv, how are you?’ I was not able to recall his name, he look like a normal young guy. Mid-sized hair, small eyes and fair skin tone wearing white Lenin shirt and blue jeans. Sorry, I’m not able to recognize you, I said. He laughed out vigorously and said, “How can you forget me after stealing my story.” I was amazed, what he’s talking about? Which story? Who is this guy? I asked him to make it clear what he’s talking about. “My name is Chetan, you have written my story in your blog couple of months before. You revealed entire secret about my wife Vishaka’s personal life and her extra-marital affair. You bastard, you made me ashamed before entire society. I’m not able to face people; you ruined my entire impression on people.”

Oh boy! I was not aware that my blogs are too popular, that it can ruin life of other person. He was talking about my post titled as ‘Girl who played’, one of my favourite but was never appreciated until this moment. This guy was Chetan, whose wife in story betrays him for his ex-boyfriend. But, how can it be possible that I have written his real story. This is height of co-incidence that name of characters is same as of my post and same incidents happen to them as I have mentioned in my blog.  It’s not possible it was creation of my mind, fiction story; it has nothing to do with someone’s life. I contradicted his claims. I made myself clear I don’t know you and your personal life. Chetan reacted, “You have to compensate for all those losses you did in my life.”I laughed at him, any stranger accidently read my blog, will claim that I stole his story, have revealed his life story and made his life a living hell, now that stranger is asking for compensation. He got annoyed, pulled my collar and said, “Dude, you don’t know the pain you have given it to me, either compensate or I know many ways to make your life miserable. You are left with few hours.” He pushed me back and left. I pinched myself and confirmed that I’m not dreaming again. That sucker has destroyed my morning; I came down to my room and switched on the music. Cleaned the room and again continued reading Mario Puzo’s Godfather, which I left last night.

Next morning, I awoke early. The light of dawn made my bedroom bright. Far down at the foot of my bed was having an unfamiliar shape, something was kept beneath the blanket. I pull out the blanket and what I saw made me physically ill. My heart started bounding faster, sweat made my entire body wet. Within a moment, I vomited on the thick rug. Severed from its body, the white silky head of my Casper was stuck fast in a thick cake of blood.

Next to it, I saw letter kept between the pages of Godfather. ‘Even I can blow you, without any words of warning just like yours Don Corleone. Will meet you soon.Tc.’


story continues....

Republic of India

You are meant to have everything you love and desire.  Your work is meant to be exciting, and you are meant to accomplish all the things you would love to accomplish.  Your relationships with your friends and family are meant to be filled with happiness. You are meant to be living your dreams- all of them.  Because you live in the country called India, Democratic India.  US took 144 years for confirming voting rights to women and 188 years for African American, our constitution has allowed it within 3 years after India’s Independence. With such vividness, on 26^th January 1950 we became World largest democracy and secular with all its diversity. But the recent incident of Salman Rushdie is harming the secular image of our country before the world.

There is difference between being secular and pleasing every person of country.  The main reason behind all this controversy was UP election, where UPA and BJP are trying their level best to please their vote bank.  Media is also not behind to spoil our India’s Image just for gaining higher TRPs. For discussing this bold topic they are introducing orthodox people like Imam ##### and Praveen Togadia in their talk show; wtf, why not Azim Premji and APJ Abdul Kalam who are not flag bearer of any Community.  Obvious reason is that,  they don’t give damn to such Incidents, they know it very well that Education can only curb this gap.

Same thing happened with M F Hussain, till his last breath he wants to visit India. But on his death, every newspaper from English to Hindi, everyone was remembering him. It was only because of his inviolable contribution in Indian Painting. In the stage of Jaipur Literature Festival, which is largest literary event in Asia-Pacific, government are not even allowing Author to address via Video-conferencing. All these events are organized in order to motivate the upcoming talent of our Country; possibly after seeing all such controversies no writer will be motivated.

But it’s for sure again some Rushdie or Hussain will be born, again he will break the boundary and again same controversies will happen. Biggest question is when will all such things stop, when are we going to enjoy the real democracy? How many republic days and independence days we need to free from communal knots?

Some people say, it’s not possible in country like India. History has proven that those who dare to imagine the impossible are the ones who break all human limitation. These people are not born to struggle, not to worry about society preferences, not to suffer each day. They are born to experience life to the fullest. That’s the reason, people like Rushdie wins prestigious Booker Prize and gain worldwide acclamations. They never felt to be limited under certain boundary for pleasing society, they believe in freedom of expression. Every decision they made in their life is based on how they believe. If such conservatism continues, even after 100 years of republicanism we will be environed under futile issues.