Give Her the Sword, Give Her the Gun

A face and limbs,
Just like any other
A curve here, a curve there
Too young even for that

Dead and Buried - Part IV

Start reading this short series here:
For Part I, click here
For Part II, click here
For Part III, click here

"When will you reveal the true secret?" Ila asked eagerly.

Shekhar grinned sheepishly. "In good time."

"You said there is a murder in the film too? Who is going to die?" she probed.

"You," he said. Her startled look made him smile. "Don't worry, you are not just a corpse... You are also the one who is going to be romancing - not one but two men."

"Don't make it sound like an incentive!"

Dead and Buried - Part III

For Part I, click here
For Part II, click here

Continue to Part III -
"I will stop you," the voice screamed in his head as he fell back.

He snapped his eyes open and found himself surrounded by white. The only thing that told him he was alive still was the pain that shot through his body. He felt needles poking him all over. Not needles, shards, he corrected himself. He tried moving but a gentle hand restrained his desperate efforts. "Please calm down." He looked at the woman speaking to him and for a minute, the white she was dressed in made her look like an angel. But instantly he identified her as a nurse.

Dead and Buried - Part II

Start with Part I. Click here If you have already read it, then read on...



The show must go on.

"Shabir's death is shocking," Shekhar told the reporters when they accosted him at the condolence meeting. "Right at my doorstep, right in front of my eyes, in the most unexpected manner!" he said. "He was so excited about the role I had in mind for him! We were just shaking hands on it when it happened..." he tweaked the truth a bit to add spice.

"Can you tell us about the role, sir? What are you going to do about it?"

Dead and Buried - Part I

"Wow! That's a fascinating story," Shekhar Bajaj exclaimed when the villager, Manoj, completed narrating the incident. Shekhar got up and looked around the haveli that was now in shambles. Manoj looked uncomfortable as he stood, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"I think it will make for a wonderful movie," Shekhar muttered to himself.

Thoughts on Women's Day

Frankly, I have none
For I don't feel like one
I am a free spirit
Taking one body now
And changing it next minute

Limericks by Ashwath Srikant

When rushing to school, he paused to rattle off a couple of limericks that he had made up. That night, I asked him to pen some and here is the fruit of his effort:

I saw a boy
Whose name was Roy
He was drinking water
Sitting near a potter
And then he bought a clay toy

I saw a cat
Running on a mat
It slipped there
And lost some hair
And now it looked less fat

Musings on Death

What is the formula
To measure our lifespan?
What is too young?
When is the right time to be gone?

Brand Love

Lavanya sensed something brewing when she picked up her pre-teen son and teenaged daughter. "How was your day?" she asked as they got into the car.

"Mom, you have to get me an Adidas shoes," son Shail said in a stern tone.

Lavanya pursed her lips. "Haven't we gone through this several times?" she asked as she started the car.

"All my friends have branded shoes. In fact, Jose has shoes in all the brands, he has branded pens..."

Why Me - Part II

For the first part of this story, click here

The world became black, and then suddenly too bright. Someone was jostling him. And then all went quiet.

"Please behave yourself when you are with uncle, Bharat," Shyama said, the attractive smile that had so bewitched him turned into a thin line of disapproval.

Amit felt Bharat reasserting himself as he turned all his attention on his wife. "You are there to keep me in line," he said with an edge to his voice. She placed her hand on his arm and Amit felt a rush of tenderness. "Please don't make it difficult for me," she pleaded.

Why Me - Part I

Amit stood smoking in the open area behind the confectionary he had opened in a busy mall in the city. From there, he could see his neighbouring restaurant, and felt a twinge of jealousy yet again. It was, as always, busy serving visitors while his team was still getting things ready. He went in and shouted, "Lazy fools! Be sharp!"

He entered his small kitchen behind the serving counter and found his chef and the cleaning lady giggling about something. "Is the food ready?" he asked sternly.

The chef, knowing how indispensible he was, asked him sharply, "What do your diners want?"

Ephemeral Life

Even exhilerating joy
Does not forever last
So also sorrows deepest
Soon from us they part

Diamonds That Became Shards

"If He resides within,
Why do I seek Him
In the wilderness without?"

He abandoned that poem, unable to proceed. That's how the saints seemed to have sung of God. He wished to, too, but could not find himself inspired enough. He decided there was nothing to be inspired about, that it was all a sham. Otherwise, wouldn't he have experienced it himself?

The Perfect Revenge - Part II

Continued from Part I

Giri's head reeled as Kala finished narrating the story of how Radhakrishnan and she got married. While his story differed in a few minor points, it was almost as if he had seen their lives playing out in front of him. The most intriguing was when Kala mentioned a stranger. "My brothers were intent on killing Radha and me for daring to cross the caste barrier and getting married. They caught us by the waterfall, meeting clandestinely. That day, they would have killed him and got me married to someone else..."

"But there was another man who happened to be there, who saw the atrocity and intervened..." Giri said with glazed eyes. It was the very nightmare he saw, the very nightmare he wrote about.

The Perfect Revenge - Part I

Giri woke up with a start, the nightmare too real for comfort. The dream had chased him through his childhood, making him run to his mother every night. When he became a teenager, he learnt to deal with his fears, but that didn't make the nightmare any less...nightmarish.

Slowly, the fear of going to bed and see this sight made him delay his bedtime. Even as an adult, he found the nightmare disturbing, and the predictable repetitive imagery compounded the problem, making him feel stressed even during the day. He worked out, not so much to keep fit as to tire himself so that he could get dreamless sleep. He found only limited success in that.

The Dis-chord - Part II

Click here for Part I

Sharada felt heart-broken. Caught up in her own misery, she remained inure to the eyes turning towards her. She was puzzled at Harish's abrupt departure. She was hurt that he had not said a word about her performance. And to think that she had kept her eager parents away for today's debut, pretending she was nervous, all the while hoping to make it special for Harish and her. What a fool, oh, what a fool! She looked up with eyes flashing, and came to her senses as she realised she was still in the dining room. Prying eyes turned towards her, making her realise that she was being melodramatic.

The Dis-chord - Part I

Sharada hummed as she walked down the street. A note jarred. She paused mid-stride and tried to get the right note, unsuccessfully. She shut her eyes to recollect how her music teacher had reached that note when someone crashed into her. Her eyes flew open and took in the young man who apologised profusely. Clearly, he had been looking at his phone when walking.

"Please watch where you are going," she snapped and walked on. Her thought flow was cut as she silently cursed the stupid people who could not take their eyes off their phones even when walking down busy streets.

The Drop

It was vain and proud
As from Heaven it dropped
Unique and blessed
It swaggered and showed off

The Other Side

Rekha glowed as the family gathered around her to celebrate her baby shower. Rekha's mother-in-law, Parul, sang the loudest and the most, urging others to join in enthusiastically. Rekha dimpled as the relatives swarmed around her to smear her arms and face with sandal and turmeric paste, decked her with flowers and gave her their blessings along with gifts. Her eyes often flew to where her husband Dharmesh stood, watching the proceedings with a benevolent smile.

Asha went up to her and whispered, "Aunt Parul is so caring. You are so lucky!"

The Unchanging Times

While returning from school, my second one started narrating a never-ending story about his friend's short temper. It started as a single episode - the friend refused to accept the verdict given by the toss (after my son refused to do so first, by the way) and how he shouted and how my son calmly ordered him to be quiet, etc.

The Dilemma

"Guess what! Today Anu called to say there is a program on Dec 15. And there will be some payment too," Vinita told her husband Saket with excitement evident in her voice.

"Oh that's good. By the way, you remember the theater workshop we wanted to do so badly? That's coming to town on Dec 5th. Shall I sign us up?"

From Several Million Square Feet Above

I waited in my car,
stuck in a traffic jam,
thoughts about life flowing
more freely than the cars.

On a Bad Note

Lokesh heard the unmistakable alert of a message in Whatsapp just as he finished his meeting, he checked his phone out of habit. It was from his wife Sulabha. He opened it and saw the message, "I found this awesome song... Listen to me sing..." And a popular song. He frowned and clicked the link. It took him to a different app. He wondered if it was a virus and quickly exited. But by then, he had another message from her. "Did you listen?" Now a request was a command.

He did, and felt even more scared. He paused it and stared at it for a few moments. Then he lowered the volume and played it again. Technically, he could say he had listened to his wife sing without lying though he couldn't hear much. What he heard did not inspire him to hear any more.

"How long? I am waiting for your comments" and there was a love symbol.

"I am at work, darling... Listened in low volume... Good effort..." he replied cautiously.

"How disappointing. You have to put in more effort to listen closely! Never mind, after you return, we can listen together!"

He stared at the phone miserably. "OK," he replied without enthusiasm.

However much he delayed, he would have to go home. With a heavy heart he left the office and headed home. He stopped on the way to buy some sweets and savouries, hoping the pleasure of this unexpected treat would make her forget her song. There was no chance of that, but no harm in trying.

There she was, all smiles, waiting eagerly for him to arrive. She couldn't wait for him to get ready, but the treat kept her busy for sometime as she placed everything neatly. "So sweet of you! Did you really love it so much!" she said and hugged him as he took in the dim lights and the placement of the snacks in the side table. She sat on the sofa and smiled at him invitingly. He did, feeling like a sacrificial lamb. They had been married long enough for her to know his emotions and body language. He had to brace himself but without it showing in any way. Thankfully, today she was so engrossed in her own singing that she barely noticed his stiffness or the pain flickering in his eyes.

The Ungrateful

We settled around you,
venerating your presence.
Making our homes
where you let us.

Yes, I Do

Govind stared at the note in his hand. Just one line, "Yes, I do." No signaure to tell him who had sent it. But he didn't need one. He knew just who could have sent it. And that's why he stared at it in disbelief.

23 years! 23 years gone in waiting for a reply. Hope, such a funny thing. Even in the face of evidence to the contrary, it had wafted around him at unexpected moments. A song here, a flower there, a phrase somewhere, a laugh... Anything could trigger a memory, a longing, and with it, hope. That their paths would cross, that their eyes would meet, that their hearts will unite, that their bodies will become one.

Vanity Fair

Saraswati bustled around, calling up caterers and making arrangements for her son's birthday party that week. Her phone buzzed. She looked at the name that flashed and rolled her eyes in frustration.

"Hey Saras! Are you very busy?"

"Yes Rekha," she replied. "Tell me, is it something urgent?"

"Hmmm... Actually, I posted a poem in the morning... I wondered why you hadn't liked or commented..."

The Homecoming

Shweta was so excited as she waited eagerly for her son Megh to come home for good after 4 years of engineering life in a college in Tamil Nadu. He had came home regularly during vacations the first three years. But in the fourth year, he had opted for internship in Bangalore! The parents had traveled to meet him and spend some time with him. But work and the younger daughter Varsha being in the 12th put severe constraints on the time. It always made Shweta feel guilty that she could not be there and had to let her son suffer bad food.

The Heart of the Matter

Eyes closed,
In a new world I wander
Where am I
Lost, I wonder

Swearing to Death

Vasanth got down and looked around. The manager came running to him. "Welcome, sir... Very sorry to hear about your loss," he said obsequiously. Vasanth nodded even as the manager gestured to a service staff to take Vasanth's luggage - a small suitcase and an airbag. The manager led Vasanth to the reception where he completed the formalities for registering.

"Lunch is being served..." the manager gently urged him.

The Waiting Room

Dinesh Mittal climbed up the five steps leading to his doctor's clinic and paused for breath. He opened the door and the receptionist smiled at him. "Please be seated Mr Mittal. Dr Batra will see you in a few minutes."

Mittal nodded and sat in the chair placed for waiting patients. He had retired four years ago. Now, every time he came to see the doctor and waited in this room, he felt it represented his life - a long wait before the final end.

A Light in the Dark

A world, only imagined?
Where I see the hero brave
Roaming unbridled
On a horse, straddled
With a bow and a sword
The courageous one swaggered

The Release

I stared into his grim eyes
Signalling me to follow him
So uncompromising and firm
For, it was already time.

An Off-Day in Yamaloka

"Chitragupta," Yama called his accountant, looking at the karmic ledger of earthlings. It weighed heavy on his hands. Not getting a response, he raised his voice and called out more authoritatively, "Gupta!"

A smug looking Chitragupta entered Yama's official chambers. "Did you call me, Yamadeva?"

Yama peered at him from under his eyelashes. "You took your own time..."

"He, he, he," Chitragupta responded with a sheepish laugh. "I was exchanging notes with the income tax department official... I don't mean currency note... you know... I mean..." he blabbered. Seeing Yama's stern look, he immediately got on with his explanation. "He is yet to be allocated his next life... and drops in often to request a good life... He has promised..." Chitragupta gulped, realising he had said more than was needed.

Yama took in Chitragupta's growing belly and sloppy appearance. "Several pages seem incomplete, Gupta... You seem to be slackening..." Yama looked up and locked his gaze with his accountant. Chitragupta met it without flinching, though his smile became fawning - another new. "Nothing of that sort, Deva... All in good time... Errr... There are some...formalities to be completed. Have asked the waiting souls for some details... Once it's in..."

Yama frowned. "You mean you are not able to keep track? Since when did we need to get "inputs" (here he put air quotes around the word) to fill in the details?" Chitragupta hung his head silently. Yama sighed and continued, "Sometime ago, you said the population was increasing too fast and death rates correspondingly high. You asked for a system upgrade and we did as you wished. I thought the system was going to take care of everything!"

Chitragupta scratched his head. "Errr... I forgot password... And it is not compatible with our old systems... So..."

Yama shut the ledger sharply, expressing his displeasure. "Come on, I have never seen you like this! For the last few years, your attitude has been undergoing tremendous change! It is affecting our work and reputation."

"I am so sorry, sir, if I have not given pleasure. But you know how it is, long working hours with no corresponding increase in compensation... And also, the world is changing... So must we," he slipped that in quite unconsciously.

"Indeed? How must we change?" asked Yama coldly, disturbed by this transformed demigod in front of him.

Chitragupta sat down in front of the god and whispered in a conspiratorial, "We keep track of people's actions and reward or punish accordingly. But people try to escape the consequences of their actions by appeasing one god or the other. And the gods reduce or eliminate the consequences, undermining you, My Lord..." he observed Yama as the latter became thoughtful. "Nobody cares for their actions anymore. There are so many loopholes that they escape their karma. Your importance is waning. They fear you only in their death... But nobody fears when they are alive!"

Yama frowned, quite confused. Chitragupta ignored him and continued, "But where can we catch them?" Yama looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "When they come here, for their accounts to be cleared and when we decide what life they will have next." Yama looked shocked. Chitragupta nodded sagely. "The income tax official worked for the Indian government. All these years, he has been clearing files and knows how to keep the poor souls who come to him in his grip. He has given me useful tips on how to go about it..." He pointed at the ledger. "Keeping that open... That's the first step."

"How does that help?"

"We can fill it up the way we want... In return for favours," Chitragupta winked.

Yama was taken aback. "What favours do you need? You have no needs!" he said dourly.

"That's the mistake we make, Yama...ji. We must create needs and we must have them fulfilled. I will get the list..." He was out and back in no time, holding a long list. "I am making that official help me with it and that's why I am holding him back... Errr, when he is being reborn, he wants to become a minister. That will be helpful to us in furthering our cause... Do you think we can comply...?"

"You...!" Yama bounded up from his seat and made for Chitragupta, who fled the room. "I have work to do!" the accountant shouted back."

Yama shook his head and wondered if it was better to leave the corrupt souls in the lower world instead of having them influence his world too! He saw Chitragupta's list on the floor. He picked it up and glanced through. His mouth watered. Shaking himself, he crumpled it and threw it into the dustbin. In his wrath, a plane full of people crashed into the sea, a bus was set ablaze, a train went off the tracks...

The Free Spirit

A laugh gurgles within me
As I watch you celebrating

Branding me as slave and free
Enjoying in the name of democracy

Who can chain me, who can bind?
My spirit roams free and fine

The Only True Love

"What!" Preethi asked in shock. "But Madhu was not even fifty yet, was she?" she asked Karan, her husband of 50 years.

Karan too reeled under the shock as he reread the message. Madhu, one of their chirpy neighbours, had passed away in her sleep apparently. Her children were still in college. Madhu's husband Ravi was running his own business. The two were in the forefront of any cultural events in the building, singing duets, organising tambola, putting up a skit... She walked regularly and seemed eternally cheerful and friendly.

The Signs of Prosperity

Rakesh Sinha eyed his son Sujay with pride. He was just 30, and he had already bought a flat in an upmarket locality. "Papa, you enter the house first with ma," Sujay said and his wife Chandni nodded with a smile.

Rakesh and Kamla entered the house - feeling overwhelmed that their eldest son at least had achieved what they themselves couldn't in all these years. Rakesh had worked for 45 years in a government department, rising up the ranks but still only modestly. And it had showed in the way they lived.

Rakesh's eyes brimmed as he saw the sparkling new home. Dull walls, leaky roofs, makeshift homes - that is what they had managed with most of their lives. In the initial years, he had to take care of his parents and siblings. Then, what he earned barely met the needs of his growing children. Though loans started becoming available when he was in his late forties, he could not afford the EMI. They had shifted from one rented house to another, sometimes changing children's school to suit the locality, sometimes the house closer to where they studied. They had to be happy with the simple joys life offered. And the greatest relief was when a loan was repaid.

Luckily, he had been able to give his children good education - or rather, they were able to make the most of what was available and all were in good jobs, earning well... And here was proof that their sacrifices had paid rich dividends.

He felt a tremor in his heart every time he thought of the loan that Sujay had taken, but his son and daughter-in-law had assured him that the repayment terms were very reasonable and easy. "In your times, being indebted to anyone was a shame... Now every one has at least one EMI to pay," Sujay assured his father.

"Times are changing," Rakesh agreed. His friends seemed to have similar stories to tell. In fact, they were envious of the current trend. "If only we had had this facility! We could have done so much for our children!"

The Beginning, The End

Why did I arrive crying?
What did I hate leaving?
What comforts was I missing?
What future was I fearing?

Out of Depth

Alone, his back to the world, Mari preferred to dip deep into the pool of his emotions rather than have the noise disturb his peace.

What would he like, truly? Why, the view of the hills on one side, sloping down into green valleys with a silent lake in their amidst, where he could fish when he wished in peace.

The Spirit of Music

Saveri sat at her aunt's feet, watching with awe as the elder lady, with her eyes closed, strummed the tanpura and matched her voice to the tonal sound. Even that fundamental element of music emanating from that divine voice was perfect. Saveri opened her mouth and winced at the harsher sound that came from her own throat. Albeit in the right pitch, it lacked finesse. She tried to subdue the harshness by constricting the throat.

Her aunt looked at her kindly. "Don't hold back!"