This is my World

It was 25 meters in length and 3 meters across. It should have served as a drainage pipe instead was serving as a house for a four member family. Changing governments, deferring politicians, and altering policies have all abandoned the pipe, but, well, Moorthi found use for it. Orphaned at the age of 6, he has been living in this cylindrical house for 34 years now. Of course, he did not know that. He never knew his age as well. Men who fear death count their age, not he. Moorthi has been married to Selvi for 12 years now and had two kids, Muthu , 11 and Meena , 10. For both Muthu and Meena , the abandoned drainage pipe has been their only house. Right from birth, they both have crawled, learnt to walk, and run within the blackened concrete walls. They played around it, sat on its roof to watch the vehicles speeding on the National Highway, slept within it an lived in it. And they were in love with it. It provided them protection from the scorching sun, chilly winds and heavy rains.

A weekend in Bangalore without a visit to a mall, almost seems impossible these days. If I don't bother anything, I still find it a good place to roam around, or grab a quick bite, or if I find time(which I most often do) watch a nice movie in a comfortable multiplex. For the past few months(well, really close to an year), I have had a companion who accompanies me in this adventure(if I may call it so). She is only of my very few close friends(you can count the number in a single hand), who shares a nice rapport with me. I will tell you, she is one girl with a lotta questions and I am a guy with too little answers to them. One of her questions made me write this article. As usual, this last Saturday, We were out, in front of a mall, when we saw this guy. He might have been in his late twenties or early thirties. With a dhoti, white shirt and no slippers, the man with pale skin and blond hair would have passed for both an Indian and an English. Though I am not sure about his natio

The number that is going to do the rounds in the next couple of years is 2012. A movie with this number as its title is hitting the screens soon. Rumors, gossips, and prophecies linking 2012 are already floating the air. Many renowned scientists, archaeologists and a hell lot of experts in various fields are pursuing dozens of researches on 2012. "The World is coming to an end !". You heard me right. That is the what. The World is the where and we are the why. How is still being debated and who is really not a who. And now, we will discuss the when. We will start from where the others started. MAYANS, a South American civilization(dated 2000 B.C. to 250 A.D.) that devised a calender, which has led many scientists to the conclusion that the World is at the verge of destruction. The calendar, a cycle repeating itself over 5016 years and this cycle, scientists believe, ends on December 21, 2012. The end of things. And our archaeologists have discovered a code with blackened and

There are three ways to make you do things. Make the thing, fun to do, force you into doing it or make sure you do it. Terrorism is no exception. Some of you might want to call it a protest, others would like revolution. Call it by any name, it is still the thing. In her latest book, "Listening to Grasshoppers", Arundathi Roy(one of my role models), chose to call it RESISTANCE. I am not going to comment on it. Two reasons, one I am no expert in human violence, two I have not read the book yet(I am eager to lay my hands on it soon). Whatever I know about the book is from a newspaper article. Let us hear the grasshoppers. First, let me make clear where I stand. A couple of years ago, when I was still in college, I had a soft corner for Communism. On books, It looked a great idea. Slowly, I learnt how irrelevant it has become to this modern World. The 20 th century saw Communism as a creature with gun in a hand and a cloth in another, the cloth to wipe off the blood the gun sp

For sometime now, people have been yelling at me for writing a lot of sad stories in my blog. The wanted an article without words like tears, blood, heart, cry death, etc. So I decided to give them one, a funny one. But Life is not so much fun to write. It has deaths, it has cries. It spills blood. So I started searching for the thing, that is only fun. Movies. So let us talk movies. First things first. Story, the heart and brain of any movie. Well, these days you gotta search for this thing in a movie. I will not be surprised if movies introduces a trivia at the end "Find the story and win a lakh rupees!". As the 21st century is trying to crawl its way through the pages of history, both the brains of men and stories of movies has been hard to find. Story writing has become the easiest job with the story template readily available. "Hero is born into a wealthy family. When he was young, his father gets killed and all their wealth turns ash. The single mother does house

Sounds like an easy question, doesn't it ? Naive? Even dumb? I can hear your inner voices crying out the answer to me.  '24 hours, you knucklehead!'  I hear you. And I can also hear a few studious minds spell out the answer in a tone that can only be called dull.   ' 23 hours, 56 minutes and 4.1 seconds!'  That is the tone of a typical Robot. Boring ! Congratulations to those who answered. You can pass fifth grade without breaking a sweet(No offense intended here). But, let me also add that books that taught you these answers have corrupted your minds and imagination. And by books, I only mean the bad ones that instead of fueling your creativity puts it out. So let us throw such sloppy books and their schlocky ramblings out of our minds and lives to embark on a travel that men have only dreamed off.  Time is an intriguing concept. It is the only measure that is also a perspective. Perhaps that is the reason why life is measured in terms of time.  Before

Immortality - A word that injects excitement into all our veins. Life without an end - Sounds both interesting and scary, at the same time. Men fear death and envy immortality. And let me tell you this is not the invention of 21st century men. This has been the dream of the first living thing on Earth. And it has since then been the only common desire of all living things. Men wished it were reality. Alchemists searched for ways to make it true. And thousands of myths have been floating the air throughout the documented history of mankind. Some cultures thought they needed a magic drink, others believed in God's boons, awarded for total dedication to the invisible man. But, none lives today to tell us that they have become immortals, or do they? The year was 2560 B.C. Civilization was taking birth in the central lands of Africa. Men were writing magical verses in Golden books to raise the dead, to live forever, when a man decided to do something different. He carved his immortality

You never know what the next moment is going to be, or do you? I have been planning for my 100 th blog of this year quite sometime now, gathering my blogging experiences over the past few months. But a day's delay in blogging, ends up changing the content. So, my 100 is not going to be like that of Sehwag's , with a six over mid-on. Rather it is going to be like that of Sachin's with a hurried single. And to add to it, if you see my blog archives, you will find me hovering over the 90's for sometime now. Finally I reach 100 somehow. It is time to lift the bat and say a Thank You to all, who have been supporting me in this venture. Thanks to all those feedback and comments you have been giving.I appreciate that. Then, let us jump into the topic, without wasting any more words. Everyone has his secrets and I have my own share. In fact, I have lots of them. By no means, I am going to reveal any of them. Just a few more sentence from my heart and I will be ruining lives.

It was a hot day for September in Bangalore. After a bit of struggle, the Sun had finally managed to glitter some of the bald heads which have been enjoying milder temperatures for the past few days. The humidity in the air was high threatening the Bangaloreans with the possibility of a heavy shower. The Bangaloreans hated it, for it was Sunday, their day to party. However this jargon of partying and hanging out is common only among a certain few. There is another group which know nothing of these jargon. Four eyes belonging to this group, stared into each other. Vasu and Ramya have been married for 5 years now. Vasu was working as a clerk in KR Puram post office. And Ramya had enough work managing the house and little Vasuki . 3 years now, Vasuki was a cute, little barbie like child with all in-built mischievousness. She has been dear to both her parents being their only relation. Vasu and Ramya had been orphans before tying the knot. Being a Sunday, Vasu had taken Ramya a

தாயின் ரத்தத்தில் கருவறைக்குள் விருந்து, கண்மூடி புரண்டுகொண்டு செய்த சிறு குறும்பு, இரண்டும் முடிந்தது தொப்பிள்கொடி அறுந்து, தொடங்கும் உன் பயணம் போர்க்களத்திலிருந்து ! அக்கரையைத் தேடி தொடங்கும் தேடல் ஒன்று, இருட்டான பாதைகள் உனக்கென்று பல உண்டு, தென்றல் வந்து மோதுமென்று காத்திருப்பாய் அங்கு, உன் கண்ணீரின் சுவையை மண்ணும் ரசிக்கும் இங்கு ! காகிதக் கப்பலில் கடலில் பயணம், மூடிய திரைக்குபின் சீறும் வீர வசனம், சதை கூட்டிற்குள் பிறக்கும் பல சலனம், கண்கள் இரண்டில் காதல் வரும் தருணம் ! நாடோடி மேகம் உன்னைவிட்டு ஓடோடி போகும், பிரிவு தரும் துன்பம் உன்னையும் ருசித்து தின்னும், உடைந்து நீ நொறுங்கும்போது அமைதி வந்து சேரும், உன் வாழ்க்கை என்னும் பயணம் அங்கு ....... .......முடிந்து போகும் !

It will not be the bullets, or the bombs or any landmines. It will be a noose. His death will not be glorified. He will not be called a martyr. He will just be sympathized. And he will not be remembered. He will not enter the pages of history. He will be forgotten, just like others. He was imagining the battlegrounds, standing in his toilet, his tomb, starring into the noose. 80 miles south, 3 months ago, the tiger fell. Now it is his time. 25 minutes into the flight, Arjuna pulled the trigger, which would change Maheshwaran's life forever. The bomb that was triggered fell right into Maheshwaran's house. He and his sister, were playing in the garden when the house burst into flames. They had few words, only cries were heard. On this May 25, 1994, a dozen other children became orphans. Padmanaban and Nalini were both burnt and buried. Sitting on those rubbles, on their parents' tomb, Maheshawaran and Padma were crying, for the next two days. They had company though. Th

I am 2 months shy of 23 and I have been an atheist for close to 5 years now. I belong to a minority, which people believe have no faith. They are wrong. I have faith, on myself and my fellow humans. So do other atheists. All these 5 years, during which I have been able to think, reason and act on my own, I have grown a desire to meet him, the so-called almighty, the God. Not out of anxiety or curiosity, or any other adjective you may want me to use. I just want to ask him something, something little. I have seven questions. "Why are men born, unequal?". I have been thinking on this for a while now. A kid born into a rich family leads a life with English education, toys and chocolates, colourful clothes and a bright future awaits him. But a kid born into a poor family lives with child labour, left-overs, diseases, and bleak future. If at all destinies are written, they are probably written at birth itself. I could have easily ended up as a beggar, had i not been the son of my

It was 30 past 9 in the P.M. and the moon was smiling at Bangalore . The cold breeze was teasing the clouds and the clouds were opening up. Minute globules of water were rocketing the troposphere before they hit them. There was a pair of hands locked in each other. A half hearted smile, tears in eyes, and a reluctant step forward; two heads were hanging low daring not to see each other. It is going to be a long month. She had run in his arms. It has been a month's wait. She had missed him, his affection, his care and his warmth. She had wanted him dearly. He was not feeling anything less to that. He wrapped his arms around her and never let go. Words were few, smiles were lot. Two hands locked into each other. They will remain locked for 40 more hours. Sun rose into the skies of Bangalore watching this beautiful couple. In her black saree, she looked amazing. In his t-shirt and cargos, he looked like a Yankee. They still made a beautiful couple. At 10 in the morning, both wer

How do you imagine dropping a new born child from a 10 storey building with only 4 men holding the corners of a bed sheet to save him? Unfortunately this happens in certain parts of India, my country. People believe this brings in Luck. Any living child is blessed by God. Sarcastically, all children bring in luck only to end up rag picking. We are a country projecting ourselves as a developing nation with a new attitude. We had a scientist president and have a Harvard graduate, as the prime minister. Yet, we continue to shit on ourselves. From birth till death. We have unimaginable rituals across the country. We bury our kids alive and blame God, when he comes out dead. We simply ignore the fact that, we pushed him straight into hell. We lay our new borns on burning coal and wonder why only ash came out. We take our kids to temple, when he is affected by high fever or a chicken-pox. When he suffers to diarrhea, we try driving out the Satan within him. Then when we reach adolescence, we

The blade was wet. With blood. The northwest monsoon which was waving a bye to eastern coasts of India was helping it get dry. A bucket, half-filled with water was waiting inside the hut. At midnight, the blade found the water and was silenced. It will wait two more days, before it tastes its next victim. The home minister's death was a shock to everyone in the state. Not because they loved him. It was the fifth high profile murder in a fortnight. A retired government doctor, the collector, an MLA , the water resources minister and now the home minister. All killed in the same manner. A stab to the heart and the left eye. And they were drowned in the bath tub or the water tank. A serial killer. And there was always a note left behind. Scribbled with the victim's blood. Its read "Justice without mercy". The morning newspapers on December 25,2008 screamed, "Home minister down ! Who's next ?". The size of the head line was enough to scare everyone. The fir

We are going back 200,000 years. We will be back soon and safe. Don't worry. We head to a vast and a dark jungle as any story teller would tell you, because there wasn't much except these. Of course Sun will struggle to penetrate the dense forests. Mid noon resembled midnight and midnight was just empty. And as any story would make you believe, all the animals lived together peacefully and happily together. The six animal jury was seated under the shades of trees, on big boulder or branches of trees. Eagle, the foreman flew from one branch to the open space where all animals have gathered. He read out the case or literally he yelled out the case. A competition to find the mightiest animal in the jungle. His co-jurors were Rabbit, Snake, Fox, Pig and ant. All except the any filled in nominations to contest, but were disqualified. So they decided to sit in the jury panel. It would be 8.30 A.M on July 29,2009, 202,009 years later. All the animals in the Jungle had assembled in the

July was coming to an end in India, not the rains.And Mumbai was hit badly, as it doe every year, year after year.All channels in the country were breaking the news, " Mumbai floods. Knee deep water disrupts normal life. Schools and colleges close for the week. However It firms continue to operate. The metro bus services and trains will be delayed. Both the Maharastra government and the Central government have assured fast relief actions". People watching the news wondered how the Rajdeep Sardesais , the Pranay Roys and the Barkha Dutts get to the studio without being hit by rain, for it looked like a cyclone outside. It was absolute chaos. Traffic Jams, Overflowing Drainages , diseases, stinking roads, ugly climate, slow reacting governments. Anyone on Earth would have doubted, hell being moved onto the surface of Earth from the underworld had they seen Mumbai . Ganesh Trivedi stepped out of his house, with his one and half human leg and a half plastic one. Had he