Hello guys, for those who will be following my writing and those who wish to, I am starting a new short story segment. This is for those who really have nothing to do and are all ears for praises and/or critical complaints. Please make yourself at home at my blog, i dont disappoint anybody.
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Now, i know you all may feel shy and the lot, but i also know you are antsy to type out stuff which may catch the attention of budding writers and avid readers. So, being the owner of this blog, i start first. PLEASE follow the bandwagon, i want to see a million short stories here (if thats ever gonna happen?!!!) and be my guest/host/dost/whatever....
LUCKY LANDING
A sunny day came to its usual end. As the seething sun finally started its dip downwards, the climate started cooling off. And as we all know, a pleasant day with just the right amount of sunlight and shade brings forth the children, the youth, adults and the aged out into the fresh air, to bask in all of natures glory. The boys in a society are bound to come together and start playing various games, be it Soccer, Cricket, caroom, chess, etc. But one thing is for sure, they are going to exhaust themselves by the time the sun is completely out of vision.
One such fine evening, a group of boys in a typical middle-class locality gathered together to play their favourite game of cricket. Sixers were hit, the stumps took cart-wheels, stunning catches were taken and a little bit of cheating included, the boys had a fun time together. As the sun steadily moved out of sight, they realised it was no longer possible to play due to the difficulties in sighting the ball. Packing up, everyone moved towards their houses. Amongst the lot was a young boy of 15 named Surej, who was sapped out of energy. He was stumbling home-wards until his foot got caught in a stone and he was thrown off-balance.
Alerted and alarmed, helpless Surej didnt know what would happen with him next. As he flew through the air, he fell into an open pothole. It must have been atleast 29 feet deep, but he fell on some dirty, garbage-filled sacks. As he lay pondering what to do in this dark sewer, Surej's eyes caught the glint of a shining coin amidst the rubbish sacks. He picked it up, and examined it and was surprised to find it glinting of gold! Boy oh boy, Surej really was going to go home happy. Wait, go home happy? It struck him then that he was going to need help getting out of here. He wanted to go home. His mother must have made Poha and tea and must be eagerly waiting for him. This thought made him hasten his frantic efforts to climb out.
'Help! Help me....Mummy i'm stuck here! HELP!' cried Surej. Nobody could here him, and panic struck him. He had no cell phone with him - he left it home lest it falls and breaks while playing. But now, he was in dire need of help. If only he could think of some way to move out! 'Darn, i have to search for something here, or else i wont be having dinner tonight!' As these thoughts went through his mind, he heard the squeak of a rat and that did it. He was really scared of rats and he was determined to find his way out of here. He searched his pockets for something and found his trusted flash light. Heaving a sigh of relief, he flicked it on and pointed it right out of the pothole.
Luckily, that did the trick. His elder brother was coming back from work and as he passed the manhole, he saw the flashing patterns of light coming from the dark depths. He peeped in to find his young brother in it. He called the nearby shopkeepers to help him pull Surej out. They not only got Surej out, but also a lot of dirt and the putrid smell of rotten garbage. He got scolded by him, and was warned to 'keep his eyes open' the next time around. But everyone was happy, and so was Surej. He thanked God for keeping him safe even though he was phenomenally scared of the dark and rats. The experience helped him overcome his fears and he was instantly rewarded with the Gold coin. He hungrily gobbled down his mommy's 'ghar ka khana' and slept peacefully.
What say, not bad for a start right? ;)
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Thursday, 26 November 2009
The Confusion, the nonsense - The Babri Masjid Problem
The Liberhan Commission report has named L.K. Advani and Sri Atal Bihari Vajpayee as the ones behind the mosque’s demolition. As soon as the Indian Express stated these claims in its paper, a great uproar ran through the country’s news channels. Numerous talk shows were hosted and reputed political figures laid their arses on leather seats and gave out big talks on the issue. But has any one of these political personalities ever given any solution to the problem of the Babri Masjid demolition? They may have but only in their dreams…
The fact of this matter is the ghost of the Babri Masjid has came back to haunt us all again. The religious rift that rocked the nation after the destruction of the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya on 6th December, 1992 can never be forgotten. The tension which ran through both Hindus and Muslims is back again. Only this time, after 17 years we people don’t care much. It’s the sheer politics and the struggle for the Muslim Vote-bank that is getting on our nerves. What a waste is Politics!
Atal ji and Advani ji have kept mum on this issue but a reputed news channel had released a video of Shri Atal standing on the podium in Ayodhya addressing the crowd, subtly hinting at the necessity to demolish the structure that stood on the land of the God-like forefathers of us Hindus and the association to Lord Ram. It wasn’t much by a common man’s standards but a thorough retrospection indicates an ulterior motive of the Bharatiya Janta Party. But the demolition of such a big structure of religious importance made a mockery of the jurisdiction in the area. The Police could not stop the demolition is something really hard to believe. Which makes us think – isn’t it so obvious that the Police were happy to comply with the demands of such men? ‘Bribery’ and ‘Corruption’ aren’t mere words in
Personally, the upheaval in the Rajya Sabha was similar to a clown’s act in a Circus, where the jokers were doing their job of creating a stir amongst the foolish crowd present in the House. There was bound to be bodily harm caused because of it. This makes t\it all the more clear that a synonym of the word ‘Indian Politics’ is ‘Foolish!’ Well, those were my views, and that is totally personal. I have no intentions of offending any person related directly or indirectly to any Political or Religious group.
On 23rd December, 1949 The Faizabad District Magistrate sent a radio message to the Chief Minister Govind Ballabh Pant and other senior officials, stating that, "A few Hindus entered Babri Masjid at night when the Masjid was deserted and installed a deity there. Police picket of 15 persons was on duty at night but did not apparently act." Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru dragged the controversy further by saying that an amicable and peaceful solution to the problem was possible but he himself never gave any answer to the problem. Why just our first Prime Minister? Our latest Prime Minister too has no solution in mind!
But I take the pain of asking you all – is there really any solution to the Babri Masjid? Will Hindus allow the Muslims to rebuild the mosque? Will the Muslims allow the Hindus to build a temple in its place? Will both groups allow formation of both a
The obdurate ministers and political figures that are single-handedly responsible for the malfunctioning of the State have to be pulled out into the view of the public and have to supply us with a worthwhile explanation of this hodge-podge they call ‘The Indian Government’. Plus, the Babri Masjid issue along with several others must be thoroughly pursued, or else these shameless louts are bound to save their arses from such issues and get back to the Pocket-filling, money making Politics business. They must be staved, those who are found guilty and are known to be so.
Babri Masjid problem – back with a bang, no-nonsense issue.
A year after terror strikes, we stand tall
Today, 26/11 of the year 2009 is witness of the solid grit and never-say-die attitude of Mumbai. Last year on this date, Aamchi Mumbai was put under siege by a group of Pakistani terrorists and for over 48 hours the city was blanketed by the deathly hand of terror. So many people killed, hundreds injured and the city's self-esteem smashed - three days of terror left behind these remains for us people to clean up. But still, we citizens stood above it all and showed the tyranists what mettle each Mumbaikar is made of!
In all this mess, blood and gore many heroes emerged out of the ashes to rise like the phoenix. Hemant Karkare, Ombale, Salaskar were among many others who laid down their lives to keep us safe. But now, after their death their families suffer silently, with no help or support they fight a battle each day. The Government merely sanctioned awards and monetary help to them but the loss of the bread-earners of the house can possibly never be filled by these materialistic baits.
I remember, i sat in disbelief glues to my Television set. I just could not come to terms with the fact that my very own city's walls rang with the terrorists gunshots, shrieks of the dying and the wails of the injured and helpless. The poor children of Mumbai must be horrified to see so much aggression and violence presented by the terrorists. The busy city-lights of Mumbai for once were dimmed. All because of a bunch of state-sponsored terrorists who had the nerve to drive a stake through Mumbai's heart - yes, the infamous attack on The Chattrapati Shivaji Terminus and the Taj Hotel.
The C.S.T station was attacked by these terrorists and left a huge wake of fear and agony behind. Terror, panic and chaos was followed by wails and cries of the injured and those in their dying moments. The Taj hotel was like the city's nose, and these terrorists had the guts to cut it off. The structure which once stood proud overlooking the Arabian Sea, will now forever bear the scars of those blood-ridden attacks. The fire which raged through the hotel burnt our hearts along with the artistique walls and expensive interiors of this massive building. The Trident hotel suffered the most, as the terrorists had literally demolished the reputation along with the entire framework of the hotel. Nariman Point will forever point out to the millions of Jews all over the world that its citizens were slaughtered like chicken on the 26th of November, 2009. This date is forever etched in every Mumbaikar's heart, and will stay with him till his dying day.
Hats off to all the martyrs who safeguarded our city from further exploitation. But the attack was also a slap right across the face of out city's security measures. A handful of louts, armed with arms, ammunition and a brief knowledge of the city's overall working barged in through the water ways, attacked the C.S.T station, drove off to The Taj and Trident hotels as well as Nariman House, and were finally eradicated at these points. NSGs, Black Cat Commandos and the Mumbai Police went through hell, at certains situations even worse than hell. But at the end of it all, they emerged victorious. A Royal Salute to all our brave officers and soldiers.
The Paramedics and Doctors' services can never be forgotten. They worked overtime, took in more injured people than they ever did before and they managed to save a number of wounded people. But chaos prevailed and many who ran out of luck died on the fringe of medical help. But no matter what, our hospitals did a fine job. THe story of Moshe, the baby boy who lost both his parents in the Nariman House attacks may get the best surrogate parents, lots of love and luxuries but one can never forget his cries during the mourning ceremony in the house held by the Rabbi, where he cried for his Mommy and Daddy to come to him. It brought tears to a million people's eyes to see his helplessness.
Once again, i conclude that no matter what happens to the city, we citizens always bounce back no matter what. And that undying spirit and love for the city cannot be broken by attacks by terrorists. They may kill a thousand people and scar millions but these attacks remain weak in comparison to our love for Mumbai and our solid determination to fight it back. We citizens are the strongest bricks in the monumental structure of Mumbai City.
Jai Hind,
Jai Maharastra,
Jai Mumbai.
In all this mess, blood and gore many heroes emerged out of the ashes to rise like the phoenix. Hemant Karkare, Ombale, Salaskar were among many others who laid down their lives to keep us safe. But now, after their death their families suffer silently, with no help or support they fight a battle each day. The Government merely sanctioned awards and monetary help to them but the loss of the bread-earners of the house can possibly never be filled by these materialistic baits.
I remember, i sat in disbelief glues to my Television set. I just could not come to terms with the fact that my very own city's walls rang with the terrorists gunshots, shrieks of the dying and the wails of the injured and helpless. The poor children of Mumbai must be horrified to see so much aggression and violence presented by the terrorists. The busy city-lights of Mumbai for once were dimmed. All because of a bunch of state-sponsored terrorists who had the nerve to drive a stake through Mumbai's heart - yes, the infamous attack on The Chattrapati Shivaji Terminus and the Taj Hotel.
The C.S.T station was attacked by these terrorists and left a huge wake of fear and agony behind. Terror, panic and chaos was followed by wails and cries of the injured and those in their dying moments. The Taj hotel was like the city's nose, and these terrorists had the guts to cut it off. The structure which once stood proud overlooking the Arabian Sea, will now forever bear the scars of those blood-ridden attacks. The fire which raged through the hotel burnt our hearts along with the artistique walls and expensive interiors of this massive building. The Trident hotel suffered the most, as the terrorists had literally demolished the reputation along with the entire framework of the hotel. Nariman Point will forever point out to the millions of Jews all over the world that its citizens were slaughtered like chicken on the 26th of November, 2009. This date is forever etched in every Mumbaikar's heart, and will stay with him till his dying day.
Hats off to all the martyrs who safeguarded our city from further exploitation. But the attack was also a slap right across the face of out city's security measures. A handful of louts, armed with arms, ammunition and a brief knowledge of the city's overall working barged in through the water ways, attacked the C.S.T station, drove off to The Taj and Trident hotels as well as Nariman House, and were finally eradicated at these points. NSGs, Black Cat Commandos and the Mumbai Police went through hell, at certains situations even worse than hell. But at the end of it all, they emerged victorious. A Royal Salute to all our brave officers and soldiers.
The Paramedics and Doctors' services can never be forgotten. They worked overtime, took in more injured people than they ever did before and they managed to save a number of wounded people. But chaos prevailed and many who ran out of luck died on the fringe of medical help. But no matter what, our hospitals did a fine job. THe story of Moshe, the baby boy who lost both his parents in the Nariman House attacks may get the best surrogate parents, lots of love and luxuries but one can never forget his cries during the mourning ceremony in the house held by the Rabbi, where he cried for his Mommy and Daddy to come to him. It brought tears to a million people's eyes to see his helplessness.
Once again, i conclude that no matter what happens to the city, we citizens always bounce back no matter what. And that undying spirit and love for the city cannot be broken by attacks by terrorists. They may kill a thousand people and scar millions but these attacks remain weak in comparison to our love for Mumbai and our solid determination to fight it back. We citizens are the strongest bricks in the monumental structure of Mumbai City.
Jai Hind,
Jai Maharastra,
Jai Mumbai.
Thursday, 19 November 2009
Has karate lost itself in Mumbai?
I glanced at my watch for the umpteenth time now. It read 6:23 pm, which meant my Sensei was 23 minutes late to class - make that 24 as the minute hand moves further. Still no sign of him, while i sit on the watchman's stool, waiting for my Master to come and teach me KARATE.
While i wait, a fleeting thought crosses my mind - Karate has become a commercialized sport now, the ideals and attitude lost in the show-shine of the big city. Mumbai does that to many people, but i never new that it could actually influence karatekas who vow to follow the virtuous path of a disciplined life. I dont know about disciplined life but boy, my sir has no value for time...punctuality went out of the window when it comes to him.
Then i remembered one of my friends telling me his woes regarding the partiality in his Karate class, where his Sensei favoured a select batch of students while the lesser favoured ones were not payed much attention to. They only got forms for various camps, competitions and training classes regardless of whether they were trained or not. He also told me his Sensei had increased the examination fees tremendously and had to leave the thoughts of giving his Black Belt examination. Too much of a fee-hike wasted his talents and qualitities because i know he was a hard working guy.
At that point of time, training under Sensei Iqbal in the Shorin Ryu Seibukan style of Karate, i had really high regards for my master. I modelled every other karate instructor as he was, and obviously it was hard to believe my friends quake claims. But now, after 3 long years i have finally realised and understood that in India, karate was to play subordinate to Cricket, just like all the other sports in India do. No wonder the life of Hockey, Kabbadi and Football players is nothing more than a mere hickey. The Sport Federation of India will never 'SUDRO-FY'.
Coming back to the point, i have started practicing the 'Shotokan' style of karate - a rather popular and well spread style atleast in Mumbai. My hunger for knowledge and thurst for results drives me to perfection in every basic movement and 'Kata' form structure...so much so that i now suffer from the 'Jumper's knee'. Yet, my efforts have paid off and in the coming month of December i will appear for the State level Kumite competition that is approaching me at a steady pace but my Sensei rarely trains me in the basic roundhouse kicks and swift punches that is essential for me to even stand a chance to proceed to the next round. Sensei has a knack off diplomatically avoiding tasks, and being his student i cannot disrespectfully ask of him to 'Do as i say'. But i am reaching my limits now...
Soon my mother will pay him a visit and make him talking. She wasn't in the physical sondition recently to be able to pay him a visit but soon, very soon he wil see my mother and will have to answer her questions. So much for the karate way of life. I have given up on him and i find myslef the best teacher in the world. The mirror on the wall talks to me and shows me the errors that creep into my Karate, and watching myself practice the Art leads me to perfection. I am my own boss, friend and guide when it comes to reaching higher levels of immavulate perfection in Karate.
I have no intentions of disowning myself from this beautiful Martial Art form and i shall positively pursue it even till i am a middle aged man with less stamina and even lesser hair on my head! ;)
Ah! Finally my Sensei comes, riding on hir brand new Yamaha FZ-S bike. He has a rather disoriented look on his face, and i knoe for sure that today i shall have a tough training session. But i am ready to puch my body to the limits, my brain to the test and my soul to the deeper confines of the human existence. I will grow like the Banyan and reach the greater humanity, all i need is the water of knowledge and the divine sun to grow from a tender sapling to a great-rooted tree. I shall fight the bales and gales that cross my path.
I SHALL RISE!
Sayonara
Oyasumi Nasai...
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