My Soulmate

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 50; the fiftieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Soulmates: Love without ownership by Vinit K Bansal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

"Finally I found my soul mate......"
She almost whispered to her group of girls.

Everyone screamed....."and whoooo is that ?"
. . . "Who is the one who will get up when you say get up ? sit when he says sit, run when you say run, cry when you say cry & still love you."
Her definition of soulmate was the one who will obey her unconditionally, unapologetically but still love her whole heartedly. Almost like a remote controlled machine.
.
.
.
.
.
There enthusiasm for him was expected & as they all were skeptical about her definition of a soul mate. So everyone wanted to meet him & that too as soon as possible. They all screamed in unison. "Call him now ?"
.
.
& with a huge smile on her face she called him. "Hey dear...please come here. They all want to meet you. Come here wearing a big happy smile.
Everyone waited with bated breath.
.
.
.
& there he walked in with a big happy smile on his face. Everyone screamed, "What a Cute smile & look at those macho biceps......Wow"
.
.
They kept talking about him oblivious of his presence. It went on for couple of hours but the smile was still as big & as happy when he had walked in.
.
.
and why not ? he was ordered to do so. In fact he was programmed to do so. After all he was a specially customized Robot.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: XX

Mithya

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 49; the forty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

"On the great occasion of 15-August we got to surrender 3 dreaded Naxalites. They are convinced that the way of Guns is not the right way, but democracy is the right way. Development can only be achieved through a democratic process. I appeal all the naxalites to drop their guns & join the main stream." The minister was going on & on.



It was a great coupe of sorts. To get these three to surrender was not an easy task but it was made possible by the efforts of the team. Six months back the sources had informed them about these three getting tired of the jungle life. The cat & mouse game with the security forces was bugging them. .
.
.
The State government had launched a scheme for the surrender of Naxalite cadres, it was a true initiative with good intents & the team included all sorts of people.... the psychologists, Doctors, Bankers, Social workers, Policemen, Teachers...people from every walk of the society. It had given a certain believability to the whole thing.
.
.
.
Rohitash was a sensitive student activist & was drawn to the romanticism of Communism. The adivasi lands were rich with minerals & for the governments the Naxalites Movement was only an obstacle to reach the riches. The Adivais only had a token presence for the government whose governance existed only for the city folks. He got sucked into the movement during the Salwa Judum ** initiative of the state government. He... like many others could not see the poor Adivasis fighting amongst each other. Day to day Life in hundreds of villages was uprooted. There was no end to the sufferings of women & children. It was not difficult to see through the designs of the state government movement & he knew something needed to be done.
.
.
.
Years passed & the futility of the movement got to him. He was not worried about his own life but the movement was not achieving anything substantial. There was hardly any change in the life of an average Adivasi. In a strange way the movement had given them some aim & purpose in life but then this was far far away from what he thought it should be. No wonder... they were sceptical about both the sides the security forces & the naxalites but they always looked at the movement as their own. But no matter what there would be occasions when the common advisai would find reasons to blame the movement but there was no way to express the anguish. The other day he saw what happens when the anguish was expressed.
.
.
Two villagers were executed by his team for suspicion of being police informers. He could not believe his eyes when he saw that the two lost their lives just on suspicion. That was the moment of Truth for him & he decided to leave the movement. That was not easy but his mind took the decision although his heart kept thinking about it. His friends warned him that the movement would consider him an enemy once he leaves but he was not the one to get afraid..
.
.
.
.
.
The minister was still continuing with his speech. There was silence around. There were lots of things going on in his mind. He had become nostalgic, he went down the memory lane & suddenly.....that one memory came in flashing.........
.
.
.
It was the final day of the College festival & Professor Chandra was thundering in the Microphone....... "Leave your Family when the Society calls you. Leave your society when the state calls you. Leave your state when the nation calls you & leave your nation when the World calls you"..
.
.
.
.
.
His eyes became moist....the words kept roaring in his ears.....he could hardly see anything around.....But surely he decided something....he stood up & just went for the gun of the policeman standing close by. He mumbled, " I am sorry Comrades....please forgive me". In one swift motion he directed the gun to his temple & pressed the trigger. Before anyone knew he was gone forever.........His body was lifeless but eyes were closed with a certain contentment.


**Salwa Judum : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salwa_Judum

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 14

Love, Apology, Death & Wedding

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 48; the forty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

He rang the door bell & waited in-hesitantly for someone to open the door. There was certain calmness in his behavior & his body language.
Prof. Deshmukh opened the door & was surprised to see him at the door. Before he could say anything he just fell at the Professor's feet...................
"I am sorry Sir....... you were so right about all of this. I am no match for your daughter Neela."

Professor was taken aback but he calmly called him in & listened to him patiently.

"She is so smart, so brilliant & I am nothing more than a street urchin..........She is so suave & I cant even talk two sentences properly......I didn't even complete my education....We are simply not made for each other.........I should have listened to your advise of keeping away from Neela.......after all you were only trying to save her life from the uncertainty of my life. Neela understood your point & even agreed to stop seeing me... but..but .... I was adamant. You were only doing your duty as a father."
"Very good......so finally...you could understand my point of view young man......and yes its good for the both of you."
"But Sir we still love each other & I would hate to see her getting married to some body else. So I have decided to leave this city. Would you mind to fulfill my wish before I leave ?"
"Yes why not ? tell me......"
"I want to take out Neela for one final conversation if you don't mind. I promise.....I would completely forget her after this. You would never see us together again. Just one last time....please."
"Oh !! well...why not ?"
Professor called Neela out, who was intently listening to the whole conversation. She got out & the two of them walked out together........................... Professor put on the TV & started watching his favorite news Channel. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Some hours passed by & the door bell rang again. He was not surprised to see him at the door again. Professor inadvertently looked for Neela. "What you want Sir ?"
"Where is Neela ?"
"Hmmm........She is sleeping in the Car Sir.........Sleeping forever........ He said calmly, I have already called the Police & the Ambulance"
"What ? Professor was shocked.......what you mean ?" ........... Before he could utter a word the Police van arrived & the Policemen took hold of him.
.
.
To the professor's disbelief......He managed to say something while the police were still putting the hand cuffs on him............
"My Apologies Sir........Neela is no more in this world.....my apologies Sir......he kept repeating the words.......I had told you..... I would hate to see her getting married to somebody else & this was the only way I could achieve that.........I am sorry Sir......My Apologies."
.
.
.
.
.
The Ambulance took Neela to a Hospital. The police left & walked in a Doctor. He put his hand on the Professor's shoulder & took him inside the bedroom. The Doctor then asked for the way to kitchen & brought a glass of water for the Professor. No wonder....Tears were flowing down from his eyes. He was clueless what to do ? what to say ? How to react ? Just then the sounds of a typical wedding band started pouring in. The noise of the wedding band came closure & closure. Finally it came so close that they would hardly able to listen to each other. The noise went to a crescendo & stopped.

Doctor told the professor to be calm......
"Don't worry Sir....Your daughter is alright. I am sure she would be back here soon."
.
.
.
The door bell rang again. The Doctor opened the door & the whole party went to see the Professor. Leading them was a woman Cop.
"Congratulations Sir.........I am from the newest department in our team....called the Love Police. I am the Head of this team. We help young couples who want to get married but can not do so because of oppose from their families. All that played out in last few hours was a well rehearsed drama directed by your Son in law & co-directed by your daughter. Even the wedding band you heard was part of the drama.It was insane but we had to give in to the wishes of the young couple. I was worried but Neela was sure that nothing would happen to you. Moreover they said it would help you......help you accept the marriage. So we had to go a little outside of our duty line. But as they say, Everything is fair in Love."
. . . . . The professor was awestruck....he was again shocked but elated.
The lady continued.....
"Dont worry Sir.....we have done checks on your son in law & he is a dynamic young man. Give him some time & he would prove himself. & the best part is your daughter is happy to grow old with him." . . . Just then the young couple walked in & bowed to touch professor's feet as per the indian tradition. The professor blessed them happily. He was ecstatic. and why not..... after all .....for him....his daughter had come back from the dead. Now it was his time to apologize.
"I am sorry.....Neela....I never asked you what would make you happy & thrust my decision on you. Please forgive me my angel."

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 13

Hunger

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 33; the thirty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
The theme for the month is 'Celebrations'

They were keeping a watch on the supposedly enemy ship since two days. There have been no action of any kind. No response to warnings, No SOS calls,no movements were noted.....nothing at all. Their defense education was telling them not to get onto the ship without instructions. For it was a warship & it could even be a trap.
.
.
He handed over the Binoculars to his colleague & went for a walk on the deck.
.
.
"Arre....check this out...There is some movement.Looks like Somebody is there."
He ran back & snatched the Binocular from his colleague."I cant see who that is, a Boy, A girl, a Man, a woman, or an animal. But I am damn sure...whoever that is, is in a celebratory mood."
"Are you sure ?"
"Damn sure.....I can clearly see a loaf of bread...... & listen carefully to the sounds coming out. This is definitely some celebration. Hunger is the biggest enemy & that somebody has just won over it.Imagine you are hungry for days & then u find something to eat"
.
.
"I see some point. I can understand the situation on the ship in distress.. ...That certainly calls for Celebrations. I would have done the same thing in that situation....But What do we do now ?..."
"Just pass on the message to the command about what we saw & wait for instructions."
.

.

.
Moments after he was back.....
"There are instructions to destroy the enemy ship.......?"
"How can we do that?......we just noted some celebratory mood on the ship. Destroying the ship means certain death for that somebody"
"Dont worry about death.....let's get on with our job & Destroy the ship.....do not forget what we were taught.....Death is the Celebration of Life."
.
.
.
Boom....after a while there was a deafening sound of a torpedo & the enemy ship was gone.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton

The Untold Story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

The Editor threw the papers on his face. "I had replied to your email that I want something new, an untold story. Why the hell you are back with the same old stuff. In three days get me my story else put in your papers. Get your story & personally give it to the Sub-editor. I am not in town".
.
.
.
He walked out dejectedly.He had poured in his heart in the news story thinking that it would make a difference to the lives of people involved but it had not made any difference even to the Editor.He didn't even gave it a second look.
.
.
.
.
.
After a couple of days........
.
.
"Here is the untold story. Please have a look. I am sure you would have never seen something like this before."
.
.
The sub-ediotr looked at the papers & looked up to him in utter dis-beleif. "How do you know this ? Were you not working on your story." .
.
.
.
"Exactly....that's what I was doing. I was present at the site working on the untold story" "So ?"the sub-editor shouted back. .
.
Suddenly The sub-editor noticed something on his shirt & screamed...."Are you mad....anything wrong with you ? There are blood stains on your shirt"
.
.
"No way....I am all fine. He had left me no option.He was desperate for an untold story & I had to create one."

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton

Roots

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 30; the thirtieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

There he was.... standing at the beach looking towards the sea with keen eyes. That ebony body was well suited for boxing. Boxing came to him naturally. They all loved him at the Boxing Club.

But nowadays there was a sudden change in him, he was turned into a soul less person for quite some time. He would be seen around but he always seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. His presence was like a rootless tree.

He was a prospective Olympian for the club but he would not be seen at the club for long. They kept wondering what might have happened but nobody would know. A couple of months back the team had been to Liverpool for the Boxing tournament but he never fought a bout, for he returned home without telling anyone.

While in Liverpool the team happened to visit the International Slavery museum of Liverpool. The city once infamous for being the capital of Slavery trading.

He had never heard about slavery before and the experience came to hit him like a lightening shock.

He was taken aback by what he saw. He was pained by the images. The "Middle Passage" numbed him.

Thousands stuffed in cargos of ships as if they were cotton or coal. The men would be shackled together with iron chains during the treacherous journey of 5-6 weeks on the sea. The women would be beaten and physically forced to have sexual relations with the crew members. The sick would be fed to the sharks. So much so that the sharks would follow the slave cargo in anticipation. For they were just the slaves to them, a commodity that would bring them prosperity. They would buy them or kidnap. Nobody would be spared, be it women, children or even the olds. Every able bodied person they could lay their hands on would be forcibly brought on the cargo. They would be branded like other commodities with name of the brand written on the shoulder. Children deprived from their mothers, mothers taken away from their children, fathers forced away from families. They uprooted generations for centuries in the organized trade.

The archives of the advertisements hit him like a bullet. It would roam in his mind like hundred pins.

Available for sale, Just brought from Africa, 41 healthy men of The Cunard brand, 9 boys (they would surely turn into obedient slaves), 13 women. The auction would be held at the town hall.

He could not go through the whole museum. In Whatever he saw, the emotions took him over. He could not see, he could not walk, he could not talk, he could not listen. His soul was lost.

When he could find some composure he took the first flight he got & headed for home.

He could never bring himself to fight a boxing bout after that. For the first time in life he looked at his skin with a keen interest. Deep within himself he knew what ailed him.

He found the answer after a long searching & it was not boxing. He needed to go back to his roots for healing. He needed to find his roots.

There he was standing at the beach looking towards the sea with keen eyes. The sea was the route to his roots. years ago millions were forced to take the route & made rootless. But here he was now, taking the same route to find his roots.

Notes : *Middle Passage : The "Middle Passage" was the journey of slave trading ships from the west coast of Africa, where the slaves were obtained, across the Atlantic, where they were sold or, in some cases, traded for goods. It was the longest, hardest, most dangerous, and also most horrific part of the journey of the slave ships.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. I’m thankful to Nikhil(The silent words), who introduced Blog-a-Ton to me, and I debuted in 12th edition.

Credits Image - Shades of Orange by Harsha Chittar Courtesy - Curious Dino Photography via www.blogaton.in

Revenge

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 22; the twenty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

"Hey Man close the door, its raining. You have the right to other plans but I want to sleep" the person trying to sleep in the birth no. 72 snapped at Vijay.

The man's anguish was understandable for It was 3 AM in the morning & the train was dashing towards its destination. "As you like it sir,So many doors have already been closed on me" Vijay murmured to himself & got back to his seat.
He was moving back to his home town, where his mother was waiting for him. She had never given up on her infant terrible. He hoped his little daughter & estranged wife too must be waiting to hear from him. At least he was hoping so. They had separated some years back & Lilian took simona with her. They too were supposed to be in the same town not far away from Vi jay's home.

Vijay finally reached home to a warm hug by his mother,that's the way she would always welcome her youngest son. No questions, no justifications, no explanations. She would communicate just everything with her silence. That comforted Vijay & he was ready to face life once again.


"So tell me Mr. Vijay what do you bring to the table, why should we offer you a this job" the burly person seated in front of Vijay almost shouted. Before he could utter a word the other member of the panel added, " We are the best business school in the town & we are not your run of the mill business school churning out a crop of MBAs. We always look for innovations, new ways of things in all that we do".

Vijay took a deep breath & almost whispered, "Sir, that's why I am here. I know what this school is all about. I have always admired this institution. I know how unique & innovative this institute is and that's why I have selected this over others. I am so sure this school is not going to fail me."

The panel was surprised & shocked at the selection of words by Vijay. One of them snapped back, "Fail you ? what are you talking about. Your resume suggests you have failed in almost everything that you have done. 10 jobs in 15 years. 2 years of doing nothing. You are a failed journalist, a failed business man, a failed writer, a failed engineer."
The other panelist added, "Your personal record also suggests you are a failed husband & a failed father".
"Sir let me add to the list" Vijay added "I am also a failed Naxalite & a failed robber."
The panel was completely taken aback. They had never met such a person in their life. The atmosphere outside the room was interesting. The other waiting candidates were tired of waiting for the interview to be over. But the things were different in the interview room. The discussion was getting interesting.

Vijay had to explain all his so called failures. It was no mean job but he passionately explained all that he did in his life till then. He continued his monologue, "My failures is what I have with me to offer. It has given me new perspectives & a whole new understanding of life. I certainly know how I failed in all things that I have done. I can impart this knowledge to my prospective proteges at the institute. These failures have told me how to achieve success in life. I am sure, I would be a successful lecturer and the students would find my talks interesting."
By the end of his monologue he has won them over. It was awe inspiring for them.
For Vijay all his so called failures were very dear but he knew the world would not understand his way of looking at things. He had to borrow the words of the world to make his point.But all said & done he had done the job he had set out for himself.

Vijay was back at life with a new zeal. Now there was a spring in his walk,his confidence knew no bounds. He was going to do interesting work with a world class business school & that too in his home town. His hopes of winning back his wife were live again.

He had had his revenge with the so called SUCCESS.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.