Memories

When I was young there was a rule of 'no pocket money' at our home. If we needed things we asked for it and it was provided. The only money we got were during our birthdays. Usually a 100 rupees note from dad and a 50 rupees note from mom, which was diligently hidden in old textbooks. Other than that the only time we got money was when our grandparents visited us. They too refrain from giving us more than 100 or 200 for the fear of being glared at by my dad.

After few occasions of my brother finding out where I have hidden my money and how much I have accumulated, I changed the place where I hid my money to a huge pingani or porcelain jar which my mom never used. Also it was placed on a shelf which was difficult for my brother to access.

One day I opened the jar to drop some coins into it which I had collected. You know, the ones that had the impressions of leaders or those of some events. That kind of coins. To my astonishment a 50 rupees note was missing. I pulled all the notes out and checked them again. It wasn't there. I stormed out of the kitchen and started crying out my brother's name. He didn't respond. And after sometime he came jumping around cheerfully and asked me, "What.??"

"Did you take my money.??", I shouted.

"What money.??", he asked.

"Don't play with me. Did you take the money.? Give it back to me now". I shouted again.

"I don't know anything. I don't even know where you keep it".

And even before he finished his sentence I placed a slap on his cheek so hard that my hand hurt. He immediately fell down. He looked at me with shock holding his cheek while tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Give me my money back", I said tears welled up in my eyes and choking on my words.

And by this time our paternal grandmother came running.

"What's happening.? Why are you two fighting.?", she asked.

"He beat me", my brother told her while sobbing.

"He took my money. Tell him to give it back", I said while sobbing.

"I only took it. I needed some money so I asked thambi(younger brother) if he had any. He said he didn't have but knew where you had kept yours. Since you weren't there I asked him to bring it. And I thought I will later kept it back. Don't worry, when appa comes I will give it back to you.", she said.

"I don't want any other money. I want my money. That exact same 50 rupees note. It was the last money Jogulu thatha(grandfather) gave me.", I said and broke down.

Jogulu thatha was my maternal grandfather. That 50 rupees note was the last money I got from him when he visited us for the last time. After that he passed away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it. Or else I wouldn't have taken it.", she said in a very apologetic tone.

"It's ok. Tell me which shop or to whom you had given the money. I will go and get it back.", I said.

Yes, I knew the serial number of that note. :-)

"I put it with some other money I had and gave it to xyz uncle to be given as wedding gift for abc thatha's son's wedding. Xyz uncle has already left for Tamil Nadu.", she said.

I was inconsolable for the next one week.
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I got my bicycle when I was in 8th standard. Before that whenever I asked for one, I was answered with a stern no. Always citing my height(I was around 5' 2'' then) and the lack of necessity for me to own a bicycle. And after lot of coaxing and some skipped meals, they bought me one at-last. A blue Hercules AXN. Then, it was the happiest day of my life. I wished the road from the showroom to our home never ended.

But it was bought only after we came to an agreement, me and my parents. That I was to take the bicycle out only when I went for the morning tuition. And if at all I wanted to take the bicycle out any place else I had to tell them where I was going and they would decide if it was safe to go to that place on a bicycle. And we agreed. Yeah I know my parents were a paranoid lot. And it wasn't till 10th standard I was allowed to take the bicycle to school.

After 10th the usage was fairly under my control, although I still had to take permission when I had to go to some place for which I had to cross a road that was more than 30ft wide. And once I got into 2nd PU it was a cycling heaven for me. I used go to a morning tuition which was 3kms away and an evening tuition which was 5kms away. I was riding 16kms per day. No wonder I was 63kgs at 5' 11" at the end of 2nd PU. :P My bicycle had become such an integral part of my life that I thought I can never survive without it. I used to clean it almost daily and wash it and grease it every month. It looked as new as it did when it was bought, even after 4yrs(Ok, this may be a little exaggerated). And then engineering happened. I came to Bangalore. I contemplated about bringing my bicycle here. But soon stopped thinking about it. First semester holidays were spent happily riding my old companion. Second semester went the same way. Third semester came and thus the first motorcycle. Still the bicycle wasn't ignored and the motorcycle was used only when the distance was longer. And then slowly the motorcycle was favored more than the bicycle. And by the end of the engineering, the bicycle was totally forgotten.

One day when I was in Delhi for training in my first company my parents asked me if they can sell the bicycle. That the kid in the opposite house wanted a bicycle and his parents asked my parents if they would sell it. I suddenly snapped.

"Why do you want to sell it. How much money are you going to get out of it. When I come back to Bangalore I will take it with me.", I told them clearly.

"It's not about the money. We thought at least someone could use it. It's lying in the store room getting rusted. Fine with us if you are going to use it.", they said.

The thought of selling the bicycle was so difficult to digest for me. It was like giving away a part of me to someone else to mess around with. There are so many memories that are connected to it. It was unfathomable for me to even think about giving it to someone else.

And last month when I went home I saw it in the store room. Put on its side stand, it stood there. Dust collected all over it. Even though my dad took it out and water washed it and put it back in the store room now and then. There is only so much that could be done. Bits and pieces of paint peeling off here and there, both the tires were flat, most parts have started to rust, the pedal was screeching when I tried to swing it. The chain won't even budge. And then my dad saw me looking at it.

"Still planning to take it with you.??", he asked.

"Sell it if someone asks for it.", I said.

"Are you sure.?", he said, questioningly.

"Yes", I replied.

"It may not fetch you much", he said.

"That's ok. Give it to someone who will love it.", I said.
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You know, when I think about these two incidents I realise how much we suck for things. We try to hold on to things so badly that we are ready to hurt others for it. We want to keep them with us so badly that we will let it rust rather than let anyone else use it. I hit my brother for that 50 rupees note, made my grandmother feel guilty. But in the end what happened.? Nothing. How long would I have held on to it if I had not lost it.? I don't know. But did losing it change the way I feel about my grandfather.? Did it make me miss him less.? No. Every single memory of him still remained the same.

And so will all the memories of my bicycle. Holding on to it any longer would only give me memories of it being in a depleted state. Giving it away will not take away any of the memories associated with it. The scars on my knees are not going away and so are the beautiful memories. If anything at all, it may give more such beautiful memories to some other kid, who may take care of it better than I do now.

We are going to lose things, some might get stolen, some will just get rusted and reduce to nothing and some others may be ignored and forgotten with time. But memories, they are going to remain with us till our last breath, unless we get Alzheimer's when we get old and forget everything. That would suck. Yes, some things are special. They are associated with some specific memories, thereby amplifying them. They may not be replaceable. But in the end they are just things. Petty little things like everything else in the world. They can never replace the memories. And definitely not worth fighting for, which would result in bad memories. As we age, the only thing we all are sure to accumulate are memories. Let us make an effort to make them fond ones.

P.S: I do not know exactly what triggered me to write this. But when I read it after finishing writing, I was like, what the hell have I written. This is so emotional that it's so unlike me. Anyhow I'm publishing it as it took me 2hrs to write this. And it is not going to go waste. This is one of the longest posts I have written.

P.P.S: Also one other thing that I observed is the number of times I have used the word 'memories'. If you play a drinking game where you drink a round every time you read the word 'memories', I'm pretty sure you would be lying face down before you finish reading the post. :D

'Frankly Spooking' - The review

"Vivek turned off the laptop. "So its meant to be a horror movie.? Watching the movie was a horror.", Vivek said to himself and smirked.

"Ghosts and bullshit. Whom are they kidding?", Vivek thought and lit the cigarette.

He went to the balcony slowly smoking the cigarette. He stood there leaning over the railing and taking one drag after another. And then he heard a sound. He turned back to look inside the dimly lit house. There was nothing.

"Thats strange. I could swear I heard something or someone. Well, what can it be? A ghost.?", Vivek thought and laughed to himself. He then took one long drag and turned back and let out the smoke.

And then the smoke took a contour of a face."

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No no. This is not an excerpt from the book. He doesn't write such bad stories. His stories are good. Wait, they are better. Now before we start this let me clarify one thing to you. This is not the usual reviews you read. Nope. For one, I cant write a review and for another I really do not know how to write a review. Now that said and done I will tell you why you should buy the book and why that will be such a good idea.

First and foremost this is not your usual book that comes out from many Indian authors. The chick lit, the college romance and coming off the age book, a common man/woman and his/her experiences in life book, no raunchy sex sequences or anything else that you have come across. This is a collection of some of the spine chilling and most spooky tales you would ever find. And why is it so.? Let me explain.

Few days back I watched 'The Conjuring' after all the hype it had created. So many people writing and showering praises about how spooky it was. But when I watched it, it wasn't the case. Yes it was good but not great. And I have watched my fair share of horror movies, mind you. The thing about horror movies is not knowing what or who 'the thing' is. Like the victims or the characters in the movie the audience are afraid of not knowing what or why certain things are happening. But in this movie there are guys who keep explaining everything to you. There is no suspense or thrill whatsoever. All the eerie effect that is created is solely due to the music and somewhat the cinematography.

And not to mention the numerous cliches. The house in the woods - cliche, no neighbours around - cliche, a dark and unused cellar - cliche, a white dressed, pale looking, yellow teethed, bloody-mouthed, running around the house ghost - cliche, doors and windows clamoring and clambering in the middle of the night - cliche, possessing - cliche, the possessed person floating in the air - cliche. And not to mention the ghost who lived in the same house years ago and was killed or committed suicide and decided to hang around the house and spook every other occupant of the house - big cliche. Even some Indian movies do better than that.

Now don't get confused if this is a review of the movie or the book. I already told you its not the usual reviews you read. And coming to the point, this is where the book trumps most movies or books of this genre. It doesn't stick to the formulas and cliches to spook you. The stories take place in the most normal and common places, sometimes in broad daylight. House, bathroom, shopping mall, office elevator, a bus stop. And the ghosts are not dressed in all white and floating around in the air. Some of his ghosts have a sense of humour(This alone is enough for you to buy the book). Some times you laugh at them, sometimes you feel sorry for them and most times you want to look around, just in case.

And the stories are simple and sometimes even short that while being spooked you also start wondering how can someone spook you in just two pages. The stories also evoke enough curiosity for you to keep reading and wait for the suspense to unfold but also don't keep you waiting long enough for you to say, 'Come out already, you ghost'. And for any story to be good, it needs a master storyteller. And this is where the author comes in. Mr. Sriramana Muliya. You can clearly see(or read) the experience of 10yrs in writing(on his blog) and many more years he spent telling stories and spooking others. The plots are air-tight, no loose ends left out, no unwanted details and most important of all he doesn't underestimate the intelligence of the reader. He doesn't spoon feed you every aspect of the story. He leaves out enough to the reader's imagination. That is a mark of a truly intelligent author.

To finish this off I will tell you something. Something that I experienced. The book and its stories are not something you read and expect to be scared out of wits immediately. You would be very wrong then. It is when you go to the bathroom and forget to turn off the lights and then in the middle of the night the door opens due to the breeze and you see the the lights on and you don't remember you not turning on/off the light. Then you wonder, how did the door open, why are the lights on. You know ghosts aren't real and they don't exist. Or do they.?? Then, at that moment you realise, the book was successful in what it was meant to do. To spook you.

The only thing that will make you feel bad is the length of the book. You finish reading it even before you realise. But don't you worry. You can always head to his blog and get spooked until he publishes his next book. So go ahead and buy your copy today, from here. Unless you want one of his ghosts to come ask you, "Do you feel spooked punk?".

The Dark Angels

Anamika stood on the footpath, turned back to see if she could spot any cabs. She was exasperated. She looked at her watch. It was a little past 12 in the night. She looked around again, impatiently.

"Maybe I should have waited for the office cab", she cursed herself.

She then started walking again, hoping to find a cab down the road. As she continued walking, she heard a vehicle approaching. She turned back almost with a glee. But it wasn't a cab. She left out a huge sigh in despair. And turned and started walking slowly again. The vehicle slowed down and came close to the footpath where Anamika was walking. The driver honked twice to get her attention and brought the vehicle even closer to the footpath. The vehicle was now moving at the same speed as Anamika. He honked again. Anamika didn't stop or look at them.

The glass came down and the guy beside the driver put his head out. The smoke and the loud music from the vehicle smothered Anamika. She brushed the smoke away and kept walking, now at a brisk pace.

"Lost your way madam.? Need a ride.?", asked the guy in the passenger seat in the front.

Anamika still didn't stop or react and kept walking.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. We wont do anything to you. We have lot of space in the car. You can ride with all of us", he said and guffawed along with the two guys in the back and the driver.

"May be you guys should keep moving. I don't want any trouble", she retorted.

"What trouble can you cause us. Also we always love a little fight", he said and hi-fived with the guy in the back seat.

"Thats it. I'm calling the police", she said and put her hand in her bag to find the phone.

"Ok ok. We will back off. Cool down baby", he said. And the vehicle stopped.

Anamika turned around and continued walking. And even before she could react, someone covered her mouth with a cloth and two others lifted her. They put her in between the two guys in the back seat. The smell of alcohol and smoke inside the car was almost intoxicating. The vehicle zoomed away into the dark.

In the dark woods somewhere in the outskirts of the city a cellphone rang. Anamika picked it up.

"Hey, where are you. On the dark side of the moon.? Have been trying to call you since the past 30mins", screamed Abhaya on top of her voice.

"Seems like that. But I think I'm somewhere on the outskirts", Anamika said calmly.

"What are you doing there at this time.?", Abhaya asked.

"Cutting the front tails of few dogs", Anamika smirked.

"Aaaah that is nasty. So where did you pick up the dawgs.?", Abhaya asked.

"Actually this time they picked me up. I warned them too. Still they tried to wag their tails.", Anamika replied and smiled at her own remark.

"So gonna let them bleed to death.?", questioned Abhaya almost expecting a yes from her.

"Oh how much I would love that. But that would put them out of misery right away, wouldn't it? That's way I have called the ambulance from their phone. They will live to tell their story. So what you been up to tonight?", asked Anamika while trying to find her way through the woods.

"Thanks for asking. Tonight was good. I was returning from work when these two guys kept following me from the metro station. They kept passing comments. Describing my buttocks and breasts, you know. I just kept walking and led them to a dark alley.", said Abhaya and continued, "One of the bastards thought this was the right moment and put his hands on my shoulder."

"Tch tch tch", said Anamika.

"Yeah, he too realised his mistake after that", said Abhaya.

"So what happened next.?", prodded Anamika.

"Well, lets say he looks a lot like Voldemort now", said Abhaya and giggled.

"Aaah, the nose.?? Talk about being nasty. And what happened to the other guy.?", asked Anamika.

"I told him that he could either be a good friend and take his friend to the hospital or try to be a hero and lose his ear", Abhaya replied.

"And he chose to be a good friend", said Anamika.

"I wished. But men could be so dumb. He instead came running to attack me shouting 'You bitchhhhh'. And I fed the nose and ear to the dogs", Abhaya said in a matter of fact tone.

"Looks like we both had our share of fun tonight", Anamika said and smiled.

"Yes, that's why I want you to be back home soon. It's getting late and we have a day life too. And can you find your way back or do you want me to come pick you up.?", said Abhaya mockingly.

"Oh! Don't cha worry. Mommy can take care of herself", said Anamika and cut the call.


P.S: Too much gore..?? Well don't blame me. The final season of Dexter is on air. :P

The Bus Romance.

Ram came running and got into the bus just in time.

He was taking deep breaths. This was the only bus that went directly to his office stop. Orelse he had to change to another bus at an intersection to reach his office.

The conductor came. He bought the tickets. That is when he saw her. Sitting at a distance, facing towards him. She was looking elsewhere listening to music on her phone. Her hair tucked behind her ears. Kohl adorned her eyes. And time and again few strands of hair fell on her face which she again tucked behind her ears. In no time he was mesmerised by her beauty. He couldn't believe he was falling for her. For a woman he only saw a few minutes ago.

"There is an empty seat behind", the conductor told him.

"No, I'm fine", he replied.

The conductor gave him a weird look. But he was too immersed in looking at her to bother about the conductor's look. He cursed his bad luck for not finding her at a better place. Where he could have went and spoke to her. "Now this will end as soon as she reaches her stop", he thought.

"Wait, I will talk to her here. Whats wrong in that. May be I will ask for her number. And then I will ask her out. We could go on a date. I will propose to her. We would be married. We will have beautiful kids.", he thought. He shook his head slowly and smiled to himself at his thoughts. That is when he noticed, she glanced at him.

"Did she just look at me.??", he asked himself. "May be she was wondering why this fool was smiling to himself and shaking his head", retorted his sadistic self.

And then she clearly looked in his direction. He turned back slowly to see if she was looking at someone else. No, it was him. And now she smiled. Ram went weak in his knees.

"Is this really happening? Is she really smiling at me? My thoughts weren't that stupid after all. And what is this weird feeling in my stomach? Are those hypothetical butterflies flying in my stomach?", he thought. All these thoughts kept popping in his head like the corns in an oven. His smile changed to a wide grin now.

Just then he saw her getting up from her seat. "Oh shit. Has she reached her stop? Is she getting off the bus? No, I have to talk to her. And get her number. I wont let it end like this", he said to himself.

As the bus neared the stop, she went and stood near the door. Ram pushed himself through the little crowd and stood behind her hesitatingly. The stop arrived.

*cough, cough* Ram coughed to get her attention. The doors opened. Just before getting down, she turned her head, gave him a coy look, smiled at him and said, "Your fly is open".

The Evil Sneeze

Rahul entered the house quietly. The house was dark.

"Power cut. Great.!!", he thought.

He went up the stairs without making any noise. He knew the house well. The darkness didn't bother him.

He went to the bedroom, silently sneaking behind Priya, who was busy on her laptop.

"Achoooo....", Rahul sneezed.

"Bless you", Priya said turning back, only to discover that no one was behind her.


P.S: Were you spooked..?? Well if yes, thank this guy, I shamelessly try to imitate him to spook. If you weren't, then you have to surely head over to his blog to get properly spooked. And, he is getting published. :-)

Bad Omen

Ramu stepped out of home, waved his wife goodbye and left for work.

Just when he was about to cross his street a black cat crossed his path.

"Bloody cats", he cursed.

"I will take the other way", he thought and took a detour.

Few seconds into his detour, a flying sheet of metal from a nearby high-rise construction site cut his head off.

Work, Pray, Eat

Kannan had been working at a far away place for the past 18 months. He hadn't seen his family in those 18 months. An year and a half ago he had to leave his family at his village and go work as a coolie for a railway track laying project somewhere in Maharashtra. The rains failed for the third consecutive year. He couldn't afford to make a living from agriculture. He had to leave his wife and 6yr old son. But he didn't have a choice.

He sincerely sent the 15 rupees he got as salary every month to his family through Money order. He never saved for himself. He never saw the need for that. They built a makeshift shed for all the coolies who worked there. They were provided with 2 meals per day. A doctor visited once in a month for a general medical examination. He couldn't have asked for more.

After 18 months the project came to an end. He got a letter from his wife 3 months back. She mentioned that the rains were good this year. He thought he can go back and be with his family and take up agriculture again.  That month he kept some money for his journey and sent the rest to his family. On the day of travel he packed some food for his 3 day journey. He boarded the train that would take him home. 2 days into the journey, all the food he brought was over. Thanks to his generosity for sharing his food with a poor fellow passenger. The 8 annas he was given by his employer as a departing gift was spent on toys for his little son. With no food and no money Kannan thought he could mange the remaining one day without food.

On the third day at around 4 in the morning the train stopped at some unknown place. The tracks ahead were broken, someone told him. It would take 5-6 hrs to repair the tracks and get the trains running they said. The train was re-routed to a near-by station till then. It was already close to a day since he ate anything. And he had to manage almost another day. The hunger pangs started hurting his stomach. All the passengers waited at the station close to 10hrs, still there was no news about when the train would start. Kannan was trying to pacify his hunger by drinking water. It was of no use.

He didn't have money to buy food and he will not beg. He would rather die he thought. He also thought about working for food. But there were no such jobs available. As he sat on the bench clutching his stomach he saw a family having their meal from their packages. All their heads were tonsured. He got up to ask some food from them but turned away and went to drink some more water. He came back and sat on the bench. Now his eyes started blurring. Uncontrollable, he went to them and asked, "Returning from Thirupathi?"

"Yes brother." The lady replied with a smile.

"Will I get some prasadam?", he asked hesitatingly.

"Sorry brother, we don't open the prasadam package until we reach home and perform pooja", the lady said with the utmost apologetic tone.

"It's ok.", he said and turned to leave. But unbearable, he again turned towards them and asked, "Do you atleast have some food. I'm very hungry."

Feeling very sorry for him she said, "Brother, couldn't you have asked us a little earlier? We just threw away the remaining food."

Then the man of the family took Kannan to a stall and bought him idlis. Kannan hesitated.

"Think of this as the prasadam you asked us a little while earlier.", the man said.

The memories came rushing to Kannan when his 10yr old grandson asked him, "Thatha why do you pray to food before you eat?"