Friday, December 30, 2011

All Alone

In the innermost recesses of our very being, we are all Alone.
Every experience shapes us,
Every word moulds us,
Even our thoughts influence our past and future.

Life thus is not an island of decisions, but a complex web woven by a lonely spider, based on its experiences. 
It turns beautiful when the spider chooses its directions, its decisions.
The spider that is You and I, is responsible for its life and its own web, because, after all, the spider, that is You and I, is ALL ALONE! 

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Akkulam Tourist Resort, an evening...

The 'quiet'

Tending towards the deep

The 'cool'

Nothing is insignificant

The 'Host'

Outside, from the inside

This side up!

One after the other


Shy crow!

Nature's palette


Heaven and Earth

I'm going

Enter the gates

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Saturday, December 24, 2011


How about feeling strange at the most familiar place? It would be suffocating... Rather unsettling. Very uncomfortable indeed. One wouldnt desire to be in such disposition. But when one is actually placed in one, there is no other way that going through it.


At this very moment, I am in one such place. It is awful. Especially when people around are capable of reading your face! You cant act in certain circumstances. Oh, it is terrible...
Can anyone live a strangers life all through? No. Its not possible. 
And if at all its possible, it would be the hardest form of torture available.
I feel like a stranger... Cant act. Cant pretend. I am caught.

Friday, December 23, 2011

After all...

It was a cold evening.
The moon high up in the sky was trying to peep out of its cloudy mask.
All was well except the occasional distant rumbling of thunder and faint fireworks.
Raju got up from his chair and walked to the window to breathe some fresh air. Standing at the window, he looked at the vast expanse of dark green fields spread over the edges of his vision.
As the moon came out, the fields shone in white silver light. Winds inspired plants to dance to some strange divine song.
He wondered if she would come that day. He wanted to see her once. She told him, she would come in the evening and leave the next morning for work. He was so happy hearing that. By all means, he wanted to see her.
The moon was completely out by then. He could see clouds receding into the corners of the sky. Good omen- thought he. Even the moon is welcoming her tonight... He smiled to himself.


On the ground floor, Lina was preparing dinner for Raju. She knew that if she was late, he wouldn't eat. He had a menu that was unchangeable. She had learned long back to accept such idiosyncrasies of her husband. More over, she loved him more than her own very life.
She arranged everything on a tray and checked everything one final time before picking it up. No mistakes.
As she climbed the steps, she heard him murmuring something. She knew what it was. He was cursing someone or something. He would be angry because the one he expected didn't come.
His room  was locked from outside- like most mentally sick men's. She opened the room, entered and placed the tray on the table. He looked back at her. He looked furious. He shouted some gibberish at her and asked her to get away. He wanted privacy when his special guest- his girl- came.
She came out and locked the door from outside. While wiping her eyes, she consoled herself. He might be a mad man for everyone, not for me. She knew that her mad husband was waiting for none other than herself. She knew how much he loved her.
'After all, I am the one who is to come," said Lina to herself, while washing dishes.

Christmas shots 2

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Christmas shots

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Three dots...
They are my favourites...
Whenever I find words insufficient to express my woes, I call upon three dots...
Recently, One of my friends asked me what is the name of these three dots...
I didn't know!
So I wondered, Blinked and gaped!
Then came the answer from the source of the question itself.
Nice name. Ellipsis. The name sounds exactly like three dots. Mysterious and unfamiliar, yet familiar and so clear...
After that incident, whenever I used three dots, I remembered that I knew those three dots- ellipsis.
I knew them by name. Ellipsis.
I owe a lot to them, because they helped me to express, better than I could with words. They saved my efforts, my dignity and my taste. I owe a lot to them.
Ellipsis. I love it.Unity in diversity. Three, yet one in structure and use. I love it.
Let me then end this little note with an ellipsis- because, I doubt whether I said enough about 'Ellipsis-es'...

Thursday, December 22, 2011


ജീവിതത്തില്‍ നേടിയെടുത്തതും സ്വതേ ഉണ്ടായതുമായ ഉറപ്പുകളുടെ മുകളില്‍ ജീവിച്ചു മടുത്തിരിക്കുന്നു.
മറുപുരമില്ലാത്ത തീരുമാനങ്ങള്‍ ആയിരുന്നു ജീവിതം മുഴുവന്‍...... .
അവയെ വെറുത്തു തുടങ്ങിയിട്ട് കാലം ഏറെയായി.
നേരെതിരുകളെ വേലി കെട്ടി തിരിക്കുന്ന മനസ്സിനും അതിന്റെ ധാര്‍ഷ്ട്യം കലര്‍ന്ന നിര്‍ബന്ധ ബുദ്ധിയും കൂടി ഇല്ലാതാക്കിയത് ഒരു പക്ഷെ മനോഹരമാകെണ്ടിയിരുന്ന വലിയ ഒരു സ്വന്പമാണ്.
ഈ സമൂഹവും അതിന്റെ തൊങ്ങല്‍ വച്ച കാപട്യവും കുടുംബ ബന്ധങ്ങളുടെ ശിധിലവും മുഖം മൂടി വച്ചതുമായ നാടകങ്ങളും മടുത്തിരിക്കുന്നു.
പല നേരങ്ങളിലും ഒന്നിലും ശ്രദ്ധ വയ്ക്കാന്‍ വയ്യാത്ത വണ്ണം മനസ്സിനെ കഷണങ്ങളാക്കി തകര്‍ക്കാന്‍ ഈ ചിന്തകള്‍ക്ക് കഴിയുന്നു. ഒരു ചിന്ത കുരിചിടാണോ ഒരു വാക്ക് ധ്യാനിക്കണോ, ഏകാന്തത തേടാനോ നേടാനോ അനുവദിക്കാത്ത വണ്ണം എന്തിലോയ്ക്കോ മനസ്സ് വലിചിഴയ്ക്കപെടുന്നു, തകര്‍തെരിയപ്പെടുന്നു.
നല്ലതെതെന്നു തിരിച്ചറിയാന്‍ എന്തുകൊണ്ട് സാധികുന്നില്ല? തിരിച്ചറിഞ്ഞാലും സംശയങ്ങളുടെ കൂരമ്പുകള്‍ കൊണ്ട് തിരിച്ചറിവുകള്‍ അകാല മൃത്യു പ്രാപിക്കുന്നു. ചിലവ രക്ഷപ്പെടുന്നെങ്കിലും തീരുമാനങ്ങളുടെ ധൃതരാഷ്ട്ര ആളിങ്ങനങ്ങളെ അതിജീവിക്കാന്‍ അവയ്ക്ക് കഴിയില്ല.

അരുക്കപ്പെടാന്‍ വേണ്ടി കിട്ടുന്ന തീറ്റയ്ക്ക് വേണ്ടി വാസനകളെയും ത്രുഷ്ണകളെയും ബലി നല്‍കേണ്ടി വരുന്നവര്‍

After all...

It was a cold evening.
The moon high up in the sky was trying to peep out of its cloudy mask.
All was well except the occasional distant rumbling of thunder and faint fireworks.
Raju got up from his chair and walked to the window to breathe some fresh air. Standing at the window, he looked at the vast expanse of dark green fields spread over the edges of his vision.
As the moon came out, the fields shone in white silver light. Winds inspired plants to dance to some strange divine song.
He wondered if she would come that day. He wanted to see her once. She told him, she would come in the evening and leave the next morning for work. He was so happy hearing that. By all means, he wanted to see her.
The moon was completely out by then. He could see clouds receding into the corners of the sky. Good omen- thought he. Even the moon is welcoming her tonight... He smiled to himself.


On the ground floor, Lina was preparing dinner for Raju. She knew that if she was late, he wouldn't eat. He had a menu that was unchangeable. She had learned long back to accept such idiosyncrasies of her husband. More over, she loved him more than her own very life.
She arranged everything on a tray and checked everything one final time before picking it up. No mistakes.
As she climbed the steps, she heard him murmuring something. She knew what it was. He was cursing someone or something. He would be angry because the one he expected didn't come.
His room  was locked from outside- like most mentally sick men's. She opened the room, entered and placed the tray on the table. He looked back at her. He looked furious. He shouted some gibberish at her and asked her to get away. He wanted privacy when his special guest- his girl- came.
She came out and locked the door from outside. While wiping her eyes, she consoled herself. He might be a mad man for everyone, not for me. She knew that her mad husband was waiting for none other than herself. She knew how much he loved her.
'After all, I am the one who is to come," said Lina to herself, while washing dishes.

Lead Kindly Light

What am I?
Wish I had an answer for that question. If at all there is an answer, I wouldn't be sure if I want to know it. What do you say dear reader? Do you wish to know what you are?
Like you, I too have faced this question umpteen times during this short life. Even now, I am forced to probe for an answer.
Like you, I always ended up with no answer.
Is it frustrating? What do you think?
For me, it is very unsettling. It throws me upside down into the dark abyss of doubt and despair. Is it your experience too?
And when you turn to the altar to pray, you are greeted with serene silence. When you need an answer SOS, someone mocks you with divine silence. Is it consoling?

I stand before you, like a child.
Lead, Kindly Light...


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moon above Hostel

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Cocroach in my cupboard

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CHILDLINE Trivandrum District Resource Map

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CHILDLINE Info Sticker :)

CHILDLINE Info Sticker in English

CHILDLINE Info Sticker in Malayalam

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Two glimpses

 Evening Sky at Loyola Men's Hostel, Trivandrum


Monday, December 19, 2011

Ongoing pain!

Today is a day of sorrow, since I heard the voice.
Its a long time now, but haven't forgotten its tint.
Soft like a flower, yet cold in its center and sharp on the edges.
It fell on my ears, like rain on a summer's day.

I wonder, why I'm alive! when life is just a dream.
Distance is like a tree: it grows, yet no one sees.
So the tree grew, gave shade for me to rest.
And now, I shed tears. Drops aren't there, but flows.

'Come back, you coward'- I often have to tell my mind.
For it backs off like a dog in an unseen clan.
When back, I'm at home, the real me, the monster.
For it knows someone's sad, knowing well that I'm mad.

Destiny! I never believed in it, even when my pulses proved it.
To be was my destiny? May be! because I never wanted to be!
Shadows grew too long till the black ate the white.
Till the doors of my life were unsafe in the night.

Ah! Yes, the voice. It still is loud like the evening Sun.
As always, it pricks the softest of all flesh- the heart.
When the pain recedes, I realize that voice wasn't real.
Then begins THE pain, for what's lost causes greater pain!



Friend 1: ഒത്തിരി അകലെ നീറുന്ന മനസും കത്തുന്ന വികാരങ്ങളും ഉള്ള ഒരു മനുഷ്യന്‍ എന്നെ കാത്ത് ഒറ്റയ്ക്ക് ഇരിക്കുന്നു എന്നാ ചിന്ത എന്നെ ജീവനോടെ കൊല്ലുന്നു... ഒരുപക്ഷേ എനിക്കുള്ള നൊമ്പരം അങ്ങും കാണും- പതിന്മടങ്ങായി... ഇത്തരം നിമിഷങ്ങളില്‍ എനിക്ക് ജീവന്ക്കളും ഇഷ്ടം ഇരുട്ടിനെയാണ്.. ഒന്നും കാണാന്‍ കഴിയാത്ത ഇരുട്ട്...

Friend 2: at least u have someone waiting...

Friend 1: :-(  And that what kills me! Grills me alive! Everything beautiful in this world makes me smile and then pause.. And then my smile turns pale.. In some unknown emotion, I turn away from what makes me sing... It stings! 

Friend 2: put that up in ur blog....

Friend 1: Impossible... She reads my blog! Wont do anything that would possibly hurt her

Friend 1: Because i have hurt enough

Friend 2: How do u manage?

Friend 1: :-) Good question. But the fact is I DON'T manage it! If I am the person you see, its her loving generosity.. Nothing else.. How can I manage? There is no management in love as far as I know.. There are no explanations, no reasons, no fumbling.. I silently accepted... Cruelly accepted...

Friend 2: Shut up!!!! You make me morose!

Friend 1: Sorry sorry sorry sorry. (NB: I had to check the meaning of morose in dictionary :-P). Hope you 'goodnighted'. So good night.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

A Story from Nowhere

I was walking the streets yesterday. The slight drizzle and light reddish tint on the sky released a romantic aroma into the noise of the street. ‘Quite romantic’ I thought to myself humming my favourite love song. Everything around seemed listening to my hum. Even taxi cars moved according to the rhythm of my song. I could see smiles on the faces near me- naughty! Just then, wind blew, whispering secrets of hidden love in the ears of those who cared to listen.
Round the corner, I saw a little kitten walking up straight to me. Perfect! To top my feeling, this cute little kitten has now appeared from nowhere. It made sense to me to listen to nature - nature always speaks for one’s heart!
Wow! It is walking towards me. I can’t believe it is walking. Look at its stride- royal, yet sweet and elegant. White like snow, its face is so divine. I just stood there looking at the cutest cat ever. The din and bustle of the street seemed non-existent. I felt focused and streamlined.
Then it happened. Out of nowhere, like a monstrous devil, a huge trailer lorry at roaring speed came dashing at the poor little kitten. Helpless, it tried to evade the deadly host of black wheels of the lorry, but in vain. Struck by the urgency of the moment, but frozen by the stench of reality, I remained motionless. The kitten had already been gone- gone into the saddest pages of my memories. Suddenly everything looked bloody red.
The drizzle continued, accompanied by red tinted sky and soft breeze. But nature screamed  quite another story now- nature always speaks for one’s heart. 
It occurred to me, that a story was born. 
Yes, one story is born, when another ends!

Friday, August 26, 2011

The Ring

The Ring

by Sajit M. Mathews

‘Prying eyes! I’ve got them, and I’m proud to have my pair. So many occasions, places and people... Yet I

was never caught- all because of these eyes.’

Savio looked proudly into the mirror before deciding to take off. As he passed his living room to the

sitting room through dining hall, he switched off lights one by one. Every light that faded away showed

beautifully arranged rooms with decorated walls and showcases. He chuckled as he passed the large

wall calendar that said, ‘February 13 Saturday’. ‘Another thrilling day,’ thought he.

‘Today I will have a diamond ring to decorate this shelf.’ As he closed the front door, his thoughts quickly

went through the busy week that went by- Selecting a shop, examining the object of desire, finding

resources, etc. This particular ring is going to be a big catch, thought Savio.

Always, he got what he wanted. He believes that the world is for everyone. Poverty according to him is

not a necessity, but lack of enough will. He never hesitated to take what he liked or wanted. He wouldn’t

call it theft. For him, it is an act of pride and social justice. Those who don’t have the means will have to

find their means, says Savio. ‘After all, I would not make anyone poor; I take only from the rich.’

* * * * * * * * *

With steady, calculated steps he walked to a large jewelry shop in the busiest square of the city. As he

had foreseen, there were a lot of customers. ‘Tomorrow being Valentine’s Day, there would be a lot of

lovers around,’ he smiled to himself.

He looked elegant in his dark blue trousers and light blue shirt. His well gelled hair shone in the flicker of

city lights. A gentleman indeed! As he entered the compound of the shop, he reminded himself of his

own principles. ‘Be decent, quick and precise. No loitering around.’ If you want to filch anything, all you

need is speed and confidence. A moment of dilly dallying will get you caught. Years of experience told

him to smile and look into the eyes of whoever talks to you.

‘May I help you sir?’ asked a sweet and charming young girl in black formal suit. ‘Great! This must be the

sales girl who will attend to my needs this evening,’ thought Savio. He pointed to the diamond counter

nearby, smiling at her.

She guided him to the counter. As she turned, he noticed that the girl was very beautiful and well

mannered. He liked the way she tied her hair into a pretty big bun with lot of white pearls pinned on it.

‘I want a diamond ring, uh… almost similar to this if possible,’ said Savio, showing the blue diamond ring

on his finger. The girls looked at the ring, smiled and said. ‘This is beautiful, sir. Kindly take a seat sir. I

will be back in a moment. We have a very similar piece.’ ‘I know there is,’ Savio giggled within as she

turned around to probe the boxes beneath the display shelves.

He had come a month back, disguised as an old man to the same counter and found the ring he wanted.

His hidden button camera had clicked a few snaps of that ring before he left without a purchase. It was

worth Rs. 1600,000. He spent at least a full month in crafting this fake blue diamond ring. Finally he was

satisfied with his masterpiece a week ago, before planning this operation ‘blue diamond’-as he called it.

He felt the smooth contours of the ring on his finger and felt proud of his own ingenious ways.

In a moment, the pretty young girl came up with a smile and a red velvet box. ‘Kindly have a look sir,’

said she while setting the box on the counter. She opened the box and was about to take the ring out.

‘Shh…,’ hissed Savio with slightly raised hands, ‘may I?’ Saying this, he took the shining blue diamond

ring out of the box and admired it. ‘Ah… this is lovely. Much the same as I wanted.’ His expressions were

so refined and delicate.

The girl was pleased to see her customer slowly deciding to purchase the item. There was a moment of

unspeakable gladness within her. If this purchase happens, it will add another Rs. 500 to my meager pay.

She remembered her little daughter’s face. ‘If only I could give her a better life and a few more smiles…

What else can a single mother like me desire for her child?’ She let out a silent sigh.

‘I will take this. How much will this be?’ The girl shuddered as she woke up from her thoughts. Savio was

holding the ring up, smiling. ‘Rs. 1600,000, sir. You will get 2% reduction on payment.’

There was a slight carefully constructed uncomfortable feeling on his face. ‘Oh… I’m so embarrassed to

say this… I’m afraid I would run short of that amount on my card. I will have to get money from my

residence,’ he paused. The smile on her face dimmed for a second. ‘So this is not going to happen?’

‘But miss, if possible, can this piece be reserved for me, so that I can come and pick it up tomorrow

morning? This is my card,’ said Savio extending his business card.

For a moment she looked at the ring in the box. The next moment, as she was about to take the card,

she noticed the ring on his finger- exactly the same as is in the box! She shuddered. Her instincts

pumped adrenalin into all her blood vessels. ‘What if there was a conscious or unconscious mix up?’ She

looked at the man, careful not to betray her panic. Savio was looking straight into her eyes without a


Professionalism required her to move away from the customer and inform the management about her

doubts. But the man’s eyes said there was nothing to panic. She was at a loss. If her doubts were not

true, she would be penalized for that. Losing this job was out of the question. Her child needed

nutritious food, and she needed security. But now, she had to decide in a moment. Either report her

doubts or keep quiet and take a risk. ‘What if I am wrong? Rich customers would never forgive being

doubted. What would I do?’ She didn’t know what to do.

‘Miss, thank you so much. See you tomorrow.’

‘Thank you so much sir. Could you wait for a moment, while I complete these formalities?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t have that time,’ said Savio. He didn’t lose his smile. He took his card from the counter,

wrote something on it and slipped it to her.

Trembling, she looked at the card. She was aware of the dozens of CCTV cameras probably focusing their

spying eyes on them both. She tried her best not to show any signs of panic or hesitation on face. The

card had a few words on it. Reading it, she felt a chill running down her spine. An invitation? A

conspiracy? An offer to be an accomplice? The few figures on the card stared back at her. She was

frozen and couldn’t move. The card said, “50-50, 4pm, Valentines, Vintage Mall”.

Savio observed the girl while keeping his pen back into his pocket. He was confident. He had read from

her eyes that she was poor and is groping in darkness to make a living. He had seen sparkles in her eyes

earlier, while examining the ring. She needed money.

He didn’t want to make this offer, but was forced to, because he saw shadows of doubt in her yes. That

was another principle of his- ‘if the game is at a loss, make friends out of your threats’. Better be free

and have a friend, than be selfish in prison!

He stood up, extending his hand to her. She didn’t know what to do. The ring shined on his finger and its

glistening sparkles shouted to her, ‘can’t you see it’s a theft? Act now or never’. She mechanically

offered hers. He turned and left. Before he did so, he gave her a smile.

Savio understood he had succeeded. This is the end of the operation ‘blue diamond’. He once again felt

proud of himself. ‘I am perfect at my job.’

‘Excuse me sir…’ someone called from behind. Savio turned slowly. As he turned, he quickly thought to

himself, ‘did I make any mistake anywhere? Is it the end of all?’ He saw a security guard approaching

him. This was quite unexpected. He was extra careful not to betray himself. How did this happen? He

could see the sales girl re-arranging the counter calmly. Did she tip me?

‘Sir, you left your bag’ said the guard pointing to the bag on the floor near the counter. ‘I knew it’ said

Savio to himself as he thanked him and took his bag. As he turned to walk away, he quietly stole a look

at the sales girl. Her face looked tense behind the façade of a smile.

* * * * * * * * *

The girl slipped Savio’s business card into her coat pocket while keeping the jewelry back into the

counter. She couldn’t believe what she just did! She helped a thief get away with a precious stone worth

a million and a half! The thought struck her like a thunderbolt. How could I do this? ‘My child deserves

better things.’ Is that the reason? Is that a reason enough to do such a crime?

Then came another customer. She smiled and guided the purchase.

* * * * * * * * *

‘50-50, 4pm, Valentines, Vintage Mall.’ A few words that changed my life, thought the girl. The small

room in which she sat, had only a small window, but one side was grilled from top to bottom. There

were many similar cells in that prison. She sat on the floor. A moment of indecisive silence- the moment

when that man conquered my confidence. She was sad for her little daughter who was now in the

prison crèche. Pain dug into her heart as she remembered that Valentine’s Day, 4 years ago.

As per the words on the card, she had gone to Vintage Mall on Valentine’s Day at 4 pm. Seeing no one

coming for her, she left at 8 pm with a heavy heart. The next day being Monday, she decided to confess

this to the management. Sooner or later they will come to know and I will be caught. Now she realized

the gravity of the mistake she had done. If caught she would be in prison. Her child would’ve none. ‘I

helped a stranger to steal an expensive piece of jewelry.’ She couldn’t settle with the truth. She decided

to confess the truth to the shop manager, no matter what happened. ‘Surrender is the only choice left

for me.’ She realized. Better confess than waiting to be caught.

First thing in the morning, she told the manager what happened and handed him the card. He was

furious. He called the police. They arrested her. Later she came to know that the address on the card

was fake. She was broke. She was sent to prison for 4 years after a grueling 3 month long court

procedure. Having no one to care for the child, it was taken to the prison crèche.

4 years have passed since then. Tomorrow is the release date. ‘The day I was looking for. From now, I

can be with my child.’ She didn’t have anger towards that man. Because she knew it was her fault. But

future was a void for her. She would have to begin from scratch – a job, a house, money for the kid’s

education, etc… She felt dizzy.

Early next morning, she was called to the warden’s room. Her belongings and her earnings in prison

were given to her. ‘Now you are free. Be more prudent from today. I have arranged for the release of

your child. Go and get her,’ said the warden handing her, the release letter.

She rushed to the crèche to claim her child. After a long wait, she got her back. Tears flowed out of her

eyes as they hugged.

A few moments later, she found herself standing on the main road, with the sleeping kid on her

shoulders and a bag in hand. The whole world is open for her. But where to go?

“Miss, if you are not too angry with me…”

She turned to see who spoke. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was that same man who tricked her into

prison. He was looking straight into her eyes.

She felt angry. But suddenly she realized the futility of anger. She smiled back at him and said, ‘no sir, I

am not angry at you, I must be angry at myself. Look at what I have done to my daughter and myself.’

Her eyes were full. She couldn’t get words to speak.

There was a moment of silence between them. She saw movements of remorse in his eyes. ‘Miss it was

my fault. But it was not my intention to do this to you. While I was coming to meet you that Valentine’s

Day, I had an accident. I am so sorry miss…’

It was then that she looked at him properly. He was standing on a pair of crutches. One leg of his

trousers was hanging loose. With a hush, she stepped back in horror.

‘When I got well, I didn’t have a leg. But I didn’t lose my heart. When I heard of what happened to you, I

was so upset that I wanted to kill myself. But I couldn’t even do that!’ He turned his face away in pain.

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

‘I’m so sorry miss. I know you would find it difficult, but kindly accept this little gift from me. This is not

to compensate what you lost. But a little gift from me. Probably the last I would ever make.’

Saying this, he handed a pretty big bag to her. She took the bag with tears in her eyes. She peeped into

the bag. On top, there was a small jewelry box. She took it out and opened. To her amazement, it was

the same blue diamond ring he stole 4 years ago. Beneath the box, she could see stacks of currency


She didn’t want any of it. She would be happier without all these. A job is not that difficult to find. She

looked up to deny the gift and give it back. But he was gone. She could only see an auto rickshaw

speeding away and disappearing at the turn.

She kept looking at the empty road, long after he was gone. A drop of tear formed in her eyes. Sun’s

rays hit the drop and reflected- much the same as on the blue diamond ring in her hand.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

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Thursday, June 30, 2011

Gift coupons

What am I writing? Asked 'me' looking at this heading. There are lot of things I would like to scribble now.
But I have already exhausted those words into a letter. A love letter! :p

If a gift coupon from heaven was given to me, I would have asked for smiles- on the faces of those I love..

I guess I wrote all I wanted to write in the last sentence.

Signing off,
Sajit sj

Sunday, June 19, 2011

To my friend...

There are times when we stand at crossroads and wonder which my road is. Those are the times when we lift up our eyes and ask the almighty for an answer. Sometimes there comes a voice from the heaven, saying this is yours. But most of the times, we are left with silence to fend for ourselves.

In such moments, we human beings have to look around, not up, to see god’s face in a hundred friends’ face. There would a sweet voice that comes to you consoling you. Sometimes there would be no answer to your question. But a comforting presence will always fetch you the cool of a misty morning.

That is when human beings like us will understand the presence of god in creation. Friends are faces of god on earth.

From where you stand, look around and see a hundred faces reflecting the divine, asking you to take the right path. All of them are extending their hands to you in order to bless you and to lead you. So be strong.

And when you doubt, don’t feel weak. That feeling is the proof that you are still a human being and not an angel. The most satisfying feeling ever- that we are like others, that our sufferings are not the only ones and the worst ones in the world.

Dear friend, keep your pace steady and walk. We might make mistakes. But in mistakes, we realize that there is hand of god still accompanying. But always make sure to listen to what your heart says. There is no better guide than your heart.

I am pained to see how baffled you are and desire to share in your agony of the moment. Therefore, my friend let me tell you not to worry about being alone. Because you are not!

Be strengthened and steady. Nothing is wrong in the lives of those who fear god. It only takes time to prove to us that it was right. Therefore be consoled.

My love is with you.

Take care,

Friday, June 17, 2011


It was genuine. I felt bad for those thin and black pair of legs. For the last ten days or so, they were relentlessly serving their master without a word of complaint. As I poured water over them, they looked pale and tired. Pity- that’s what I felt at that point of time. ‘I should give them a good wash’ I told myself.

I took the soap and applied on them. Still they looked thin and pale. I apologized to them for not taking care of them and neglecting their welfare. After all, I still need their service for at least another three years. While applying soap, the form embraced them and cleaned them. I was happy that finally they were getting back to their original state.

I took them out of the water and rinsed again in fresh water. Wow! Now they look clean and better. I patted them in joy and appreciated their service. Once again I apologized for not giving them a wash for the last ten days due to my being sick and tired. It looked as if they understood. They were brighter now.

Then I squeezed them and put them out on the line to dry. This is the first time I felt pity for my clothes. My poor pair of pants. Ten days at a stretch without a wash would have been real trouble for them.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


I dreamt the face that takes my sleep away.

Last night was more like battle of worlds- real and unreal.

Fighting, I woke up with woes of unreal,

Wondering which is real and where is the unreal.

Days looked awkward without the so called unreal.

For there was no pigment in veins and in dreams.

Tasteless, moments dragged into eterninty,

Till the day I realized real was not that real.

I ran into by bed to dream, to get into the 'real' real.

Closing my eyes, I prayed to open the gates fast.

There goes light, welcome to the world of real,

A triumphant me went into the unknown.

The face was there alive and glad,

Sending shivers into my spine.

I went near and near, only to find the face stranger.

But now I believe in my fate, the one dictated by my faith.

I am staying. i told my spirit.

I was dying till I reached here, now I live here till I die.

The hand came towards me, like in a dance.

Here I go, into the trance. Good bye unreal...

Saturday, June 11, 2011

for you, my little one...

For you my little one, there always is a little prayer whispered through the threads of my life.

Love my child, is beyond reason. There is nothing like being loved.

As you grow in what life teaches you, my heart rejoices seeing your wonder and excitement.

But in the heart of my spirit, I reserve an apprehension for myself, for I want to be sure that you smile till the end.

Take my hand, when you feel like stumbling but I will take you when you stumble.

Tremble and fear not when beasts roar at you, I will face them with you- won’t let you alone.

When you are grown, on your own, when I retrieve into memories, my shadow will follow you in yours.

Till when days dawn and nights fall there would be love, there would be us.

And when I am gone from memories, wiped out, listen to evening rains and morning breeze to hear my prayer for you.

You my child are dear for me, like my breath, like my favourite colour and musical note- ever lasting.

Won’t let you alone.



Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Lessons for Life

Days have their magic on men (sorry for speaking only of 'men'). The spell begins with love. Unassuming as summer rain, the spell of love is cast on the one waiting unawares.
Until the day comes when the man recons that there is no other go than to realize what has happened, the spell goes unnoticed. Unnoticed because the man wanted it to be unnoticed. There were days when the ordeals of life shook him like a pine in whirlwind. Shaken, but not fallen, he refused to believe what had befallen him. There were days when he was down with feelings of uncertainty and illusions of completion. Those were days of purgatory when he learned that there is a world beyond the present one and there is a way beneath the present. Reckoning!
The magic spell has its own secret ways. Young men want to study and achieve. The spell wants them to realize what life means and what life has to offer. There are umpteen ways in which such men can go on to say how they meant things to be and how life taught how things actually were. Strange enough, until the day of reckoning, none of the men realize that there is a difference between what is thought and what actually is.
Now that the day is come upon me, let me think back and see if there are a few things I can manage to find. The first thing is that I was foolish! You don’t have to smile reading this! My maturity was younger to my age. Probably I had missed a few important lessons of life. Or probably my kind had to wait a bit longer to get to what we call maturity- born a bit early!
The second thing is that I was not aware of what was happening to me. If my life had a rewind button, I could have managed and manipulated things better, because now I can see better.
Life is like a glass pane. It has thickness to hinder trespassing. But is not opaque enough to stop stares and gazes to penetrate to its heart. It breaks when hit, melts when warmed and gets scratches when tossed around. But it never disappears. It will stay around either as a pain or as an asset.  Life is to be lived whether you love it or not. Lesson #1.
What life has taught me in this little time called life can be summarized as LOVE. Love is the only reality that keeps the world going. All the negativities that we see around us are only negations of or absence of love. Love keeps the world going. Whether it is love active or love forgotten or love impractical or love disappointed or love cheated or love pretended, love is the one feeling that makes the world turn around.  LOVE. Lesson #2.
Learning and scoring marks are two different entities. I learned a lot of things in the school of love. But I failed in its test- quite miserably. But I don’t regret. I was able to love, and am able to love without limits even love. Love without action is useless they say. My love seems useless. But I know that it is not. Days begin by love, go on in love and end in love. There is not a single day when I don’t remember with gratitude, the great wonders done to me by loved ones. Love is not to be measured, but lived. Lesson #3.
I have wept a lot. I am not ashamed to say this. A lot of people are. I am not. Weeping is cleansing of the soul. Tears come from the heart and they wash away all the malice within. I have wept on people, love, friends. When I feel that I am near god, I weep. And those drops of tears give me consolation. When I am with my friends who love me, I weep within because I feel I am near god. If god is not able to show in my friends, that great power won’t be shown anywhere in anyone. All through my life, I have seen god in those who love me and whom I love. See god in friends- you will never be desolate. Lesson #4.
More lessons to be added as I learn them!

Thursday, April 21, 2011


From the year 2001, Gethsemani continues to disturb me. Every time I dare to enter the sanctuary of my own being, Gethsemani speaks from some unknown corner, intriguing me, agonizing me. It had been the pattern for as long as I could remember since I was first knocked down by self realization.

This year, Gethsemani was hidden from my sight. There were no signals from above. I was in desert. I am in desert.

And what else does Gethsemani mean? 

Monday, April 18, 2011

Why should the girl run?

What I saw 
I got out of the bus at Secunderabad station. As hunger was eating my energy, I walked fast. Traffic is heavy as usual. After trying 4 times, I crossed the road successfully.

On the other side, life was as usual busy and 'vender'ful. Just then, a rude looking guy crossed me. He had a plastic bag in hand. I observed him because of his careless manners.

There was a young girl of 20 coming towards me, after crossing the road. Our 'rude' guy was dashing at that girl, as if to hit her! She looked up and saw this man, and began running. The 'rude' guy went his way, but the girl continued to run towards the bus stop. I stopped and looked at this for a few moments.

What I thought
I am ashamed. In my country, girls have to run to be able to live with self respect. This morning's newspaper told me about a teenage girl being gang raped next to the police station and a church! I am ashamed, and left without words to feel sorry for myself and my world.

My dear friends, a society that can't respect women, will not progress. Civilization is where individuals have freedom to be themselves in mutual agreement and peace. While most of our people are not able to be themselves for fear of being 'looked at', 'attacked', 'molested', 'raped', 'teased' and 'disturbed', how can we claim to be the great civilization that we are proud of?

I am ashamed and left without words to feel sorry... because our girls are made to run...

Saturday, April 16, 2011

music in the vein

After a long time, I touched my guitar again.. When heart is unable to express through tongue, my guitar comes to rescue me from obscurity.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

One fine evening

One fine evening.

"Where to?"
"Not yet decided."
"That's worse."

After a few yards of silence...
"Who are you?"
"There is a long way to go."
"Where to?"

"Do you see a tree over there?"
"That's not a tree."
"I think it is a tree."
"That's not a tree."
"I can see it's shadow."
"There are a lot of mirages here."
"Are you real?"

A few yards without words...
"Don't touch me!"
"I didn't."
"You did. I didn't like it."
"I still see the tree."
"Who are you?"
"Does that matter?"

No words...
"It's really hot."
"I probably won't reach the tree."
"There is no tree."
"You are feeling hot."
"You are distracting me."
"From what?"

Another long stretch of desert without words.
"See! The tree!"
"Thirst can be so desperate?"
"I better rush."
"Before you die.. Yes. You better rush."
"You don't want to come! It's fine with me if you don't."
"Let the mirage eat the carcass of life that doesn't see."
"Will sight ever devour a blind man?"

This time silence was longer.
One set of footsteps disappeared.
Deserts is still out there. Mirages too.
But this time, silence will be longer.

"Ok. Welcome. Where to?"


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

An epoch foretold

        It's been 3 months. I couldn't believe its just 3 months since I came to know this wonderful person. For most of the time, I was only listening to this person from a distance. But there was magic in words uttered and thoughts delivered. I was taken along the rivers of world civilizations. I was baptized in many an ocean. I saw so many of the greatest historical figures, all friends of this great person. There was creation and destruction. I went for long walks with him along the banks of Tigris and Euphrates. There brew a rumbling around the place I listened, announcing a cleansing apocalypse, and He was the prophet!

        He posed questions that toppled me from my comfort zones. He disturbed my sleep and left me crazy and schizophrenic for days on end. There were moments when I wanted to run away, because what he said was too much to digest and what he meant was too large to comprehend. But after the end of 3 months, I am more me! He foretold an epoch. But more so, he is an epoch foretold.

        Today, it came down like a streak of lightning upon me- the fact that he is leaving us in the dark and going away. It was good to be disturbed. Those sleepless nights were beautiful. Those schizophrenic days were so real. I won't be getting any more of them.

        He lived the life of an Oracle and led an army of souls- all of them mesmerized by him. Me just one of them. Thanks is not the word... He has become part of me- the thoughts and threats, hopes and hypes, dreams and dreads. I will cherish them. Blessed is he, for he helped me become more me.


Saturday, April 09, 2011

The Way Back

The Way Back

 - A Story written with the help of a dear friend -

Annie usually was much ahead of all her classmates in submitting her assignments and projects. That made her feel one up in class. It was her passion to run ahead of others- be it in class or in life. Listening to the light soothing music from her computer, she was aimlessly looking out of her window. In fact, she was not seeing anything- she was just looking. Winter breeze was rushing in through the window and playing with her hair. The evening sky shed a beautiful orange shade on her cheeks. She looked beautiful being lost in thoughts.
Beep beep! Her mobile phone’s message alert tone woke her up from her thoughts. While reading the message and her face grew tense. She put the phone annoyingly back on the table. It was one of her classmates, enquiring how the assignment was progressing. The class is given an assignment to write a script for a short film. Annie had thought of a number of concepts, but none of them satisfied her heart. So she wasn’t able to begin the assignment. She was feeling miserable, as some of her friends have already reached the completion of the assignment. She couldn’t bear the fact that she was behind all others.
She got up from the chair and walked to the fridge. While grasping a bottle of water, she thought of what could be done. She had high ambitions in life. All her activities were set at becoming a great writer and movie maker. She toiled day and night for that. She chose her courses and studies accordingly. This year she chose courses that gave her experience in the field of writing and film direction. She had high expectations of this course, for which the assignment is due. But now, she couldn’t even start scripting.
She had tried all possible stories she could lay her hands upon, but was not happy. There were just 15 days for submission and she hasn’t started conceiving an idea! She couldn’t even concentrate on her daily routine. Sitting back on her chair, she came to some decisions. Her face grew tense and serious. Something has to be done. She has to find a concept.
She decided to get out of the hostel, the very next day and go on to the roads to look for a satisfactory story to work on. She didn’t mind missing classes for a day to meet the deadline. With this resolution, she went to bed, still with a disturbed mind.
Early next morning, she got up and packed her bag. She arranged her camera, a bottle of water, her wallet, a note pad, couple of pens and a portable tripod for the day. She was determined not to come back without a story for the script. She could feel her heart beaming with eagerness and excitement at this activity.
She wandered on the roads with her camera. The early morning sky, birds, first movements of people on the road, first vehicle on road, etc., passed in front of her eyes. The people who passed her by, did not interest her. She wanted a story that could generate a screen-worthy story and would impress the teacher. She wanted to be famous.
Hours passed without finding anything that interested her. Lunch time had passed long back. She was hungry and thirsty. Yet she couldn’t stop wandering through the streets of the city. She forgot her breakfast and lunch. Just on water, she wandered the streets alone. Feeling tired, she stopped for a while to rest her feet. Her heart was pounding fast as it was nearing evening and she hadn’t found a story. She felt like crying. Inside her pride, she was a girl with a soft heart, who liked to smile spontaneously and weep at the slightest of pains.
Thinking to herself about going back and having an early sleep, she put her camera back into her bag. Her dreams always had taken her above the ordinary. She had the courage and wisdom to be what she wanted to. She always succeeded when she wanted to, and she always wanted to. But in the silence of her soul, she always felt that she was missing something- something that was crucial. As she packed her bag and had a sip from her bottle, she was lost in these thoughts.
It was then, that she heard some people arguing across the road. There was an elderly looking man on the other side of the road at the junction, making a hot exchange of words with the staff of a restaurant. The old man seemed untiringly arguing on something. And the shopkeeper was becoming angrier at the old man. Her heart told her to move towards them. She picked her bag up and crossed the road. She went near the restaurant. Her keen eyes caught the excitement of the moment immediately.
The old man was about 75 years old. He looked quite an interesting character for her. He was well dressed and looked very descent and classy. He was tall and well built, but slowly age was eating into his build. His hair was snow white and he was not quite steady. She could make out from far that his hands were shivering a bit. But still his words were sharp and made sense.
She approached the feud so that she could hear what they spoke. The argument was about payment. The old man had eaten from the restaurant. When the bill came, there was a disagreement between the old man and the manager of the restaurant. She found the arguments quite amusing.
Old man: I will sue you. You don’t know who I am. Don’t try to cheat me. Yesterday, I ate my dinner from here for Rs. 1 and today you are overcharging me? How dare you?
Manager: What? Which century are you living in? You won’t even get a toffee for Rs. 1, and you want to get away full stomach with that? You better pay; else, I will call the police.
Annie couldn’t hold her laughter after hearing the old man’s argument. A descent meal would easily cost you Rs. 30. It was getting into the manager’s nerves. He moved to his table and picked the phone up as if to call police. The old man said, “hold” and put his hands in his pocket. He searched his pockets one by one and after a long search, he found a one rupee coin from the rear pocket of his trousers. He held it up to the manager and said, “This is all I will give you. The right price of what I consumed. Take if you want.” He tossed the coin into the restaurant and turned to walk.
The manager looked at the one rupee coin, boiling with anger. He signaled his workers to get the old man and picked the phone up again to call the police. One of the waiters came rushing and caught hold of the old man from behind. The old man whirled in his hands. Annie felt that she should be doing something. But she couldn’t move. ‘Now or never’- whispered her heart to her. In a swift move, she rushed to the manager’s table and cut the telephone line with her index finger.
The manager looked up at her in anger. He got up from his seat, now frustrated to the verge of an outburst. Annie got frightened and didn’t know what to say in that tension. The manager shouted at her, “Now what? What the hell do you want?” Annie’s tongue was tied. He was about to pick the phone up in rage and throw it down. Annie gathered courage and told him, “I’m sorry. He is my grandfather, I will pay the bill,” she lied. “How much is it?”
The manager looked at her quizzically. He was slowly cooling down. He said in an annoyed, irritated and slightly angry tone, “Rs. 30. Don’t let your crazy old man out on the roads like this. Thank god I didn’t finish him off.”
Annie took out the amount from her wallet and went to the old man who by that time was free from the waiter’s arms. He appeared weak and shivering from after all these, but still he turned to the restaurant and said, “Good you released me. Learn to behave decently to gentle customers.” Saying this, he turned away and started walking.
Annie rushed to his side and started walking with him. After a few steps, he noticed her walking along and asked her in a stern voice, “Hei girl, are you following me? What do you want?” She was startled at that unexpected question. In fact, the old man hadn’t seen her paying the amount at the counter. He still thought that he was released because they realized that they were wrong. Annie realized this and told him, “Oh, no sir. I saw how you didn’t budge to their demand. It was great. I thought I could have a couple of words with you. By the way, I am Annie, a student of Media at the University.”
He stopped and looked at her from top to bottom in a quick brush and said, “What if I didn’t want to talk to you, huh? I can’t believe how people can be so arrogant and inquisitive like this. Media… paparazzi… hypocrites…” He looked into her eyes, pointing his finger at her and said, “Don’t dare to get anything out of me. I have seen this and even more!” She was shocked to hear such a blunt statement from him. She felt bad and stood still to see him walking past. She stayed there till he disappeared round the corner. She wiped a drop of tear that formed in her eyes and walked towards her hostel. She was tired and hungry. Over all the physical fatigue was the frustration of not getting a subject to write. She wanted to reach her room and break down in to tears and cry aloud.
As she moved a few steps ahead, she heard a noise from behind her. She looked back to see some people running round the corner shouting, and calling for an ambulance. She rushed to the corner. There she saw the old man lying motionless on the road side, bleeding from his head. A bike had knocked him down as he tried to cross the road. She rushed to him and checked his pulse and helped the men who carried him into a car that agreed to take him to the hospital. She got into the car along with him. His head was in her lap. He was breathing, but looked pale. Her clothes were full of blood from his head. She feared something bad would happen.
Only at that moment did she think of the consequences of what she was doing. The old man was a complete stranger. At the hospital she will have to sign papers for him. ‘Whom to call and inform,’ she was worried now. Suddenly, she thought of finding some details in his pocket, and searched his shirt’s pocket. There were a lot of paper pieces in his pocket. She patiently hunted among those papers for a clue. There was an old visiting card among them. It was archaic. She could hardly read from it, but it mentioned Mr. Harry Fernandez. She kept all those papers with her.
Within minutes, they reached the nearest hospital. He was rushed to the hospital. Annie had to register the patient at the emergency counter. She filled in the name and the address in the card and signed the form. Half an hour late, the doctor came out and informed her that he is ok now, but had to rest for a few days at the hospital as the head injury is quite serious. Considering his age, he has to be careful. She thanked the doctor as he left the casualty.
Annie thought of what could be done. It was already 8 pm. She had to reach the hostel before 9 pm. She rang up to the warden and told her that she is at the hospital with a relative and would be late at night. The warden was not happy at this, and wanted her back immediately. She hung the line and looked for a phone number on the old visiting card. There were no phone numbers on the card. He went through all the paper pieces from the old man’s pocket to find some number to call. There was one number which never answered. She felt dizzy and exhausted.
Sipping a hot coffee from the canteen, she went to the telephone booth at the hospital. She borrowed the telephone directory from them and searched for the address found on the card. Yes. That address was there. She found the number and gave a ring immediately. It was around 9 O’clock then. After trying thrice, someone picked the phone up. She didn’t know what to say. At the other end, the person said hello again and again, and was about to hang up when she said hello.
“Good evening. I am Annie, a student at the University here. Is it Mr. Harry Fernandez? The reply came swiftly, “No, daddy is not yet back. Can I help you?” Annie did not know how to tell them what happened. She gathered courage and said, “in fact, I don’t know Mr. Fernandez. Pardon me if I am wrong, is Mr. Fernandez a man of around 70 years?” There was panic in the answer: “yes, he is an old man. Anything wrong? Is he alright?” Annie asked them not to panic: “there was a small mishap on the road this evening. I got this phone number from his pocket. He is in Apollo hospital now. Nothing to worry, he is alright.” Annie couldn’t complete what she was saying; before that, the line was cut. She felt miserable that she didn’t even ask the name of the person she talked to. She went back to the hospital and waited outside the ICU.
Around 20 minutes later, she was woken up by the nurse. There was a middle aged couple and a kid with them. The nurse said, “Miss, these are the relatives of the Patient.” She stood up immediately and greeted them. They introduced themselves as Mrs and Mr Thomas Frenandes and their son Felix Fernandez. The couple was tensed and their faces were anxious. She made them sit down and narrated the evening’s incidents to them. She updated them on the condition of their father Mr Fernandez and told them not to worry. They thanked her profusely and asked her about her whereabouts. They dropped her at the hostel and talked to warden to avoid complications in the hostel.
Once in the privacy of her room, Annie thought about the happenings of the day. After a bath she lied down on her bed, thinking of what would happen to Mr. Fernandez. The script and the assignment were out of her mind. She didn’t know when she fell asleep.
Early the next day, she got ready and proceeded to the hospital. Mr. Thomas was there. He told her that his father slept well. Annie wanted to know more about the old man. She was curious. She asked Mr. Thomas what his father was.
“My father was a known man. He tried his hands in many and varied fields and succeeded. Harry was a mastermind- a genius,” began Mr. Thomas. Annie sat there like a child listening to the story.
In his 14th year, Harry published his first story in one of the leading magazines of the state. From then onwards, Harry was an unstoppable talent. He wrote for magazines, newspapers and published a volume of poems before he even reached Bachelors Degree. His interests varied in their shades, but basically he stuck to pen and paper. He broadcast his stories on radio, and slowly took over to television. He wrote for national channel for a while. All these were along with his studies. By the end of his Bachelors degree studies, he was an established author and actor.
It was during his post graduate studies that he fell in love with philosophy of Sartre, paintings of Nicholas Roerich and cinematography of Francois Truffaut. He desired to be existential in expression, peace loving in appearance and controversial in spirit. He went around the streets of the city endlessly in search of something he felt was missing in life. Somehow, he began to dream of becoming a film maker. He thought writing would be the key to this dream. He sent a few of his scripts to renowned film makers of his time. Some were taken. He thus systematically neared his dreams.
In the meanwhile, he married Margaret as his parents constantly pestered him to get married. Margarita was a lovely woman. She changed him thoroughly with her love. He became a family man, became more careful about his life and savings. He loved Margaret like his own life. He had 3 children, of which Mr. Thomas was the second. He got settled in that city. He limited his dreams and worked hard to make his family happy and satisfied.
It was when Thomas was 10 years old, that he got an invitation to work with Mr. Sinha, the topmost director of that time. Sinha wanted Harry to script for his movie. It was something that Harry was looking forward to.
There he meets his soul mate, Radha. He realizes she was the one for her. Yet he remained himself for the love of his family. But his love and affinity for Radha grows day by day. He confesses this to Margaret and Radha. Margaret understands him and says she knows how much he loves her and the kids. Radha too is madly in love with him, but for the love of Harry, she remains silent. She tries to keep distance from him, but he couldn’t resist seeing her. Thus their relationship grows strong. Margaret sees all these, but is not able to resist or prevent. She understood her husband more than anyone else. Though she couldn’t bear the fact that there was another woman in Harry’s life, she knew that he loved his family over everything else.
Harry remained strong for a year after the completion of the film project. But all the time, he was going through intense mental torture. He was literally torn apart between being himself and living his life. He needed to be practical and happy with his family. But he also needed somehow to respond to Radha. He didn’t love Radha for physical pleasures. What was between them was not carnal love. Harry often wondered what he could call that love. Once he asked Margaret about his relationship with Radha. Margaret looked at him in the eyes and said, “Harry, I know you love me and our kids more than everything.” Harry was more and more being pushed into terrible mental uncertainty and pain. All his writings of those times were tragic love stories.
Finally he made up his mind to end this torture. He told Margaret that he had decided on something and is going to meet Radha. He chose the eve of Christmas for this meeting. He called Radha to the park that night. He might have wanted to dramatize this moment. He waited for long for Margaret, but she didn’t turn up. He was about to leave the park. Just then, he heard a call from the other side of the road. It was Radha. She waved to him. As she crossed the road, he too waved back.
Thud! Harry couldn’t believe what he saw. A truck came fast and ran over her. He ran to her. She was lying in a pool of blood on the road. He raised her head and speechless, he wept. Radha, with the last stirrings of life in her moved her lips and asked him, “tell me that you are mine for ever Harry.” He shook his head as he wept his life. His tears and her blood met on the cold road like the day and the night. She struggled to say something and in a moment, she was gone, falling silent into his arms.
Harry remained silent with her body in his arms. His tears went dry. When police came, he was still holding the dead body in his hands. That day onwards, harry never spoke about Radha. It appeared as if that chapter was erased from his soul, as if he was someone else. Harry never became the real Harry again. He started showing signs of memory loss. He forgot his spectacles, bike keys, etc. in the most unusual places. His writing projects were halted. ‘Harry is dying or is he already?’ his friends doubted.
Today, harry is just a living body. Nothing of his former life remains- not a trace of memory. Margaret, Radha and the kids... all are gone. The doctors who treated him gave up after a few years. Margaret died with a broken heart after a few years, leaving the children alone with harry.
Annie wiped tears from her eyes as Thomas finished the story. He called her for a coffee. They didn’t realize that hours passed narrating the story. Annie got up to follow Thomas. She stopped to look at Harry through the glass door of the ICU. She felt miserable.
On the way back to the hostel, she took out her writing pad and tore off a few pages from it and threw them into a dust bin on the road. She walked away wiping her eyes. Those papers fluttered in the wind. It was written, “Script on Harry, the old man.”

- The End -