Monday, June 27, 2011

Born To Kill...

Finally I knew. As she lay there drowning in her own blood, I stood by, a silent spectator, quietly enjoying the gruesome show of gore unfolding before me in the still of the night. The accidental bullet from my gun had caught her square in the chest, bursting her lungs open. Blood sprouted out of her lungs like a sprinkler as she struggled for breath. She writhed in agony for a full minute before life finally went out of her. Her face looked contorted, lending the ambience a ghostly feel. I touched the muzzle of my gun. It felt warm. And I felt liberated; free from the shackles of my conscience. Now that it was over, I felt myself cleansed through and through. I now knew what I was meant to be. The message was loud and clear. There was only one thing which could quench my lingering thirst.
                                      Blood…….
                    I had been ‘BORN TO KILL’ 

Two And Counting.......

He stood on the edge of the parapet, a precarious half an inch flat stone wedged awkwardly a foot below the safety railing of the roof. He had decided to end his life. He had listed down several options to do so. Cyanide, a bullet to his brain, hanging from the ceiling, all of them. However none seemed to appeal more than a jump from the rooftop. He wanted it to be shocking and a public spectatorship event.
Well, anyway coming back to the scenario, as he stood on the roof he pondered what could be the best possible reason to end his life. He hadn’t had the time to decide before, being caught up in the preparations for his jump. And he drew a blank now. Anyways after much contemplation, he zeroed in the prevalent discrimination against male students in engineering colleges during gradation of exam papers. It was a serious issue no doubt and someone had to stand up to it. Or may be jump for it. As he thought all these, he gave his head a vigorous shake, straightened himself and jumped……..
The phone rang incessantly like an irritating cacophony. Finally much to the relief of anyone who was listening, it went in to the “leave a message mode”….A voice crackled in…
“Gyani? (His friends called him so)...dude you wouldn’t believe it! The profs did it again man!!!!The girls topped again!!and they didn’t even give me the minimum passing marks! You know I managed a sneak peak into Neha’s papers. I swear dude! She had written literally nothing. And she managed a 70!!Wtf??? It’s too much man! Enough is enough! Anyways gotta go. By the way have you jumped yet? I am planning to do the same from a floor lower than you. See ya at the bottom of the building dude.”

p.s. All characters are fictitious as is the perceived bias against us the boys. However I still managed to score quite low during my college days. I wonder why…….

Friday, June 17, 2011

Down and Up....

This is dedicated to a very special person,someone who has helped shape my thoughts,aspirations and my destiny.And that person is in trouble today.
Dear Special One,
                          I know you are pissed off. Even I am. I know you have lost your way in the quagmire called life, and that you are desparate to get out of that rut. I know you seem to have to lost your unique identity and want to get that back as soon as possible.
                         So here I am,trying to say the same words you said to me a few years back.
"Rise up,all is not lost. Remeber you are better than you think and you are bloody damn talented.You got doubters??Give 'em Hell!!!you are smart enought o be human.Don't make a mockery of yourself by giving in to despair.You can sing better than most people and love your club better than the bandwagon fans.So get up,you lazy bum and start blazing away to glory."

                                                                                                                               Yours faithfully,
                                                                                                                                Abhijnan



p.s. The special person is I,Me and Myself.

Friday, June 10, 2011

The Bet...

Sam and Sandra- A love story gone horribly wrong like countless others. It was the same old thing. They were childhood friends. Sam thought the friendship was love but Sandra didn’t and so on and so forth. However this story ain’t about their ‘aww’ cute friendship. It’s about something bigger than that.
The scenario is a few years after Sam’s marriage. Sam had joined the MBA Bandwagon and had firmly established himself in a financial services entity and had found a wife too. Sandra meanwhile had gone on to become a negotiator with the Indian Government and hence had to put marriage on the back-burner.
It was a cool night and Sam found the idea of a quick beer tempting. He waved his chauffeur off and walked down to the nearest pub, a posh little place that had just opened up at the corner of the street. As the pub loomed large near him, he loosened his tie and with one final sigh of tiredness entered through the front glass panel. Barely had he taken a few paces inside when he stopped, frozen in his place. Directly in front of him was Sandra, sipping a beer, oblivious to the surroundings. Sam felt uneasy. Should he approach her? He didn’t know what to say. “Oh well, what the hell?” with a deep breath and a quick shrug of his shoulders, he reached her in a few confident steps and touched her on the shoulder. “Hello Sandra,” he said softly.
She turned back and gasped. “Sam!” She exclaimed, visibly excited at seeing her old buddy, “OH MY GOD! Long time!”
Sam nodded in agreement. A long time it had surely been. 5 years to be precise.  She had lost her radiance; Sam noticed and couldn’t help but feel satisfied about it. Thank GOD that his wife was more beautiful. “Well Sam, how’s Linda?” Linda was Sam’s wife. “She is good.”
They talked on for a while, reminiscing their old days and exchanged some customary pleasantries. After a while they couldn’t find any more to discuss and started playing with their drinks. Suddenly Sandra said “Sam, I have something to tell you”. Sam looked up from his beer. “Yes, go ahead.”
“I was thinking about how you had wanted me to marry you years back and I had refused. It all seemed so silly then! I had wanted to devote myself to my career. However after all these years of loneliness, I feel maybe I was wrong. What do you think Sam?”
Sam was dumbstruck. He didn’t know how to answer the question. Finally he spoke, albeit haltingly, “I think what happened was for the best. I do not think about it now.”
“Yeah you are probably right; I guess” Sandra replied quietly.”Anyways I need to get back to my apartment. It was nice catching up with you.” They shook hands and exchanged an awkward hug. Sandra picked up her coat and walked out the front door while Sam stayed behind to finish his beer. He heard the screeching of tires and wondered how he might have pissed her off. He gulped down the remnants of his can, tipped the waiter and walked out into the street.
He started walking down the road, lost in thoughts. He didn’t notice the police car that had screeched to a halt a few paces from him. It was when he suddenly felt two strong arms on his wrist did he jerk back to the reality. He was terrified. Police??What the hell?
“We have received an anonymous tip that you are in possession of banned narcotics. Sir please show us what you are carrying.”
Narcotics! What are they saying? Sam was lost. He protested, “No sir, you are mistaken! I am no drug dealer. I work in a respectable firm. I just had a beer. I am returning home now.”
He tried to force his way out but the man in uniform held him steadily while another started searching his pockets. ”Here!” he suddenly said, and held out a packet containing a whitish dust. “How do you explain this sir?” as Sam looked at the packet, he felt a wave of fear. He mumbled a protest “This is not mine! I don’t know how it came to be in my pocket!”
The police shoved him into the squad car. Sam started crying. “It’s not mine! It’s not mine!” he wailed. The car sped away into the night.
Sam was lodged into a temporary cell and was given the provision of a lawyer. Sam had given up hope. His whole world had come crashing down. He cursed his fate. Why did he merit such punishment? He barely listened to his lawyer’s words. Suddenly a guard appeared with a tray.
“Sam Donald, a package for you.” The guard put it down on his bench and left. Sam eyed it wearily. He picked it up and tore open the packaging. Inside was a rose and a letter. He opened the letter and started reading it. His eyes became wider with shock as he read through it.
“Dear Sam,
                  I couldn’t help but envy you for the lovely life you had-lots of money, a good wife and a car too I guess while I went about unemployed. Yes I had been thrown out of my job for failing on more than one occasion. I have huge debts that need to be repaid. So I thought it wasn’t fair that you enjoyed a good life while I rot away to oblivion. I had to give you a taste of my life, you see.
                  I am a drug addict now and hence always have a vial or two upon me. Remember that hug? Yeah that is when I put it in your pocket without you realizing it. I then hopped onto my stolen car and went to the nearest booth and alerted the police. That’s how you got caught. However never mind. I have a guy who is willing to testify for a thousand dollars that he saw a street thug put the packet in your pocket.
                                                                                                                                With love,
                                                                                                                                Sandra.”
Sam looked up at his lawyer, dumfounded. Sandra! How could she do this to her. He let the lawyer read the letter. He read it, folded it and said “We must get this guy to testify for us. We can go after her later” Sam nodded.
The rest is pretty boring. The guy testified for the thousand dollars and Sam walked free, all charges dropped against him. But he could never forgive Sandra. He was surprised to see he felt only a profound sadness and no vengeance towards her. He had surely loved her a lot after all.


Ten days after this incident, an envelope arrived at a shadowy house on the far corner of the street. The postman knocked at the door. It was opened by a woman, pale but expectant. She tore open the envelope. Inside it was a letter.
“Dear Sandra,
                      Thank you for what you did. We had bet on women being powerless compared to men. And I have won. Please also find inside a token of my appreciation.
                                                                                                                                       With love,
                                                                                                                                       Linda.”

Sandra shook the envelope and out came into her hands a cheque for 20,000 dollars.
           

p.s. Sandra had come to know about Sam’s impending visit to the bar from Linda who Sam had called and informed about his plan to visit the pub.

Monday, June 6, 2011

The Sharp Dressed Lady..(inspired by the cult song "Sharp-Dressed Man" by ZZ TOP)

I saw the sharp dressed lady,
She called a taxi cab,
She was going to the Sunday church,
And my o my!  Did she look fab!

Oh my sharp dressed lady,
Could you not stop for a while?
Turn around and look at me,
And give me your flashing smile?

She was my sharp dressed lady,
She was my wicked dream,
She was my prettiest lass,
My painting’s theme.

She was the wild wild one,
Born of the open space,
A daughter of nature,
And o that angelic face!

She turned and looked at me,
With a grin that made me heady,
I can’t stop thinking about her,
She is my, she is my Sharp-Dressed Lady.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

The Fall of Humanity

Gunning on an empty tank,
With no good virtue to thank,
On a Godless sea that rank,
With vices, HUMANITY finally sank.