The Chronicles of Sid

Updates on life

2011-12-05T22:41:00.000-08:00

It had been two months since everything had fallen apart and while I sat down thinking, what had gone wrong in the chain of events, I somehow felt that the universe had its ways of showing us human mortals, that not everything is destined as we had planned it. We all have to walk a path, a path of right or wrong, and a path of understanding. I had stood on cross roads where everything on the left wasn’t right and everything on the right wasn’t left.

The irony was that while all this time, I had believed in my dreams, my dreams had somehow deceived me. My visions had become blurred and while once in a while I would see a vision that would shudder my soul. I had little or no reason to believe any longer in them. I had always believed that if you believe in a dream long enough sooner or later the universe will conspire and give it to you and yet it seemed impossible in my current scenario of achieving it. I had lost it all. It wasn’t that I had intentionally decided to lose it. It had just happened, slowly but surely, bit by bit everything had fallen apart and while I willingly had turned a blind eye to the events that were unfolding, little did i know that life did not come with a "the end" title after you lost everything. It goes on.

I on the other hand had fallen from grace. I felt like St. Michael, suffering the wrath of God. I had in my hurry to the top had ignored how God in his own wisdom has plans for all of us and while there are stories of inspiration all around us of how people had made it out of the bottomless pit of suffering, I had made it out of it and yet once again had gone back in to it, to suffer some more. Was life going to give me another chance, Was God willing to give me another chance or was I to suffer for all the sins I had committed once I was out in to the clear. Where had I gone wrong? What were the mistakes, I had made in life that had brought me in to this state. Where were all the dreams gone? Every once in a while I would swear to have my sweet revenge and then my love would stop me. Someone once told me if you love someone let them go, if they come back they were yours. Do I believe in it any longer? She is long gone and married.

Do I hunt her down and take my revenge? It is not right. No matter how much I have suffered, I owe at least that much to the beautiful moments that once formed that perfect life, I so much cherished. I have often wondered what my aim in life is. Was it to bring peace to broken souls and yet I myself suffered in agony. Of course when I read medical journals, people who talk in such language are termed to be suffering from some sort of mania. I of course if not an angel, definitely don’t like to stoop to ordinary human levels and take revenge. It is all Karma, and when we indulge in wrong karma we have to suffer the consequences. I was doing the same only this time round, perhaps i did not believe i had done anything wrong. I had been cheated upon, lied to and in the end expected to understand the decision. In ordinary terms be a spineless human and when I had stood up and said no, was humiliated in front of my family.

It had all the makings of a great soap on the national television, and yet I somehow could not bring myself o relive all those moments to tell a story, a story of love, sacrifice, commitment, faith and loyalty. A story of deceit, opportunism, convenience and mind games. Of two people sitting on the other ends of the world, lonely and sad and while one of them stood strong in the path of bringing them together eliminating every opportunity that could stop it, the other one took every opportunity to destroy it.

The story however does not end here as life in the past had shown me, how things change and while I may have been wrong was it worth waiting for. Why couldn’t I feel happy just like had felt happy for others. Why was it any different from the rest of the lot? I knew the answer now. I had lost to much in an effort to make it work and in the end lost it too, but then perhaps God has some other plans for me. All I needed was to wait and let my dreams come true at the right time and place, after all it all gets manifested, just the way it is supposed to.

Karma (vs) Destiny

2011-09-08T21:32:00.000-07:00

Karma is a strong word. In the Hindu mythology Karma defines what a human being does for a living or in general to spend his life. Often it is said that karma is what a man or woman choose and one has to live with the consequences of his or her karma throughout life. I did believe in this philosophy but then there is a greater thing than karma and it is called destiny. Destiny has got no relation to karma and often our karma’s become what is foretold in our destiny. It does not matter how an interview went. If the job is in your destiny, you are going to say the right things, if not all the qualifications in the world may not give you that most sought after dream job.
I do know the sceptics would try to assure me that out destiny is in our own hands and yet I would like to assure them, that our karmas become according to what destiny suggests. How would then I explain the déjà vu moments I have that come true with time. I am pretty sure it is our destiny that is guiding our karmas in such a way that events like those come true. Yes, they are fore warnings and yet do we take action to change any of those events. No we do not.
We would more often than not just feel that it was a bad dream only until we are in the right place and the right time wondering if we could have done something to change the whole situation. In the last three years, I had plenty of déjà vu and more often than not I chose to ignore them not only because of the unfamiliar surroundings but also for a fact that, I did not believe that they were going to come true and yet time and again my destiny has played its cruel game of making me think and act in a peculiar fashion only for those dreams to come true.
It is a complex process that our intuition is one thing that is a fore bearer of events. We often tend to think positively and yet in time we tend to forget the events that we had seen. It’s strange but true that these events can occur from one day in to the future to a few months and in my case it took me a year to understand what my dream was trying to tell me when I was so much in love. It told me clearly of everything and yet I tried to change it only to fall flat on my face. Our intuition, it still believes that I am not going to go back and yet everything seems to be pointing in one direction.
Do I believe in my karmas or my destiny, it is a good question because karmas just tend to become the way my destiny wants them. How do I change it? I can’t. The mere thought process is such that no matter how much you try it is going to go in sync with your destiny. What is my destiny? I do not know but I do know one thing that my karmas will become such that my destiny is going to be the guide to a better future. A future that we all hope we have and yet is something that eludes us.
Why would I then see buying myself a nice black dial tag watch or wearing a light brown suit crying out loud “you only want to marry me because I got millions now?” Karma, destiny, fate or just a dream that arose from my subconscious because of my obsession with money. A déjà vu. Who knows only tomorrow, a few months or maybe a few years from now on, can hold the answer, when I say it.

The M square

2011-09-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

Of all the tribes of the zodiac, Sagittarius is most skilled at not trying too hard. That isn't to say that you're lazy or lax. What I mean is that when it's time for you to up the ante and push toward your goal with more force and determination, you know how to cultivate a sense of spaciousness. You've got an innate knack for maintaining at least a touch of cool while immersed in the heat of the struggle. Even when the going gets tough, you can find oases of rejuvenating ease.
It is always rather strange how a human mind does not want to accept the mere facts and clings to a hope. A hope that acts a guiding beacon at times and yet becomes the biggest nemesis of life. It makes you forgive and when you know you are being cheated upon, you tend to believe otherwise. Life comes in technicolour my friend, sometimes good and sometimes ugly. What has happened in the last year was summed in one nice long paragraph, how I had faltered, how I was the culprit and how I was the devil. It did open my eyes to the fact that, never ever get in to someone else’s problem, because it’s just not worth it.. You do not need someone else’s pain to screw up your life, because when you are in pain no one ever will come forward and say, “Sid, here I am, let me help you.”
I should be feeling angry, but does anger solve anything. The only thing it ever does is to break that bond with your spiritual self. The person you are, the person you are trying to become. I do know that when you love someone, you tend to protect the relation but when that same person hits you in the balls, you tend to double up. Then off course the theory of full red circle comes in to play. What you do unto others will eventually come back to you. What you did to Priyanka came back and hit me hard in the place where it hurts more.
Well, somehow everything seems to fall in to place now. The pieces of the puzzle are finally making sense. It was a good decision not to meet her, because while the ultimate revenge was being planned to finally put me in to an asylum, I did stop dead in my tracks and I knew what was happening, only too naïve to believe it being true. What is sad is to take revenge, someone can actually convince themselves of what is right and what is wrong, when they know it themselves where they stand eventually. Sad but true and still, I can just stand on the edge of the cliff, extend my hand. To grab it is the only thing someone has to do and if they decide to jump, well, all you can hope is they meet a quick demise.
It is rather strange that today is the day when I move on in life. Living a dream and not able to fulfil it could have its disadvantages. First of them however is, you need to set a goal in life. What do I love the most? The analysis is rather difficult but then the choice however rather clear. Looking back, what excites me the most? What caused the rift between all my relations. It was money. So it is money that excites me. Nothing wrong with it and then it’s me. So the two things I love the most is me , myself and money . The “M” square.
Yeah all right, I was taken for a ride. So what? Do I care? Come to think of it practically, I don’t . Come to think of it emotionally , I do. “Hello, not again.” the question remains would I extend my hand to that person ever again in life. Kind of difficult to answer. Just like in the game of chess we have to make moves in life and yet in life, we do not know which pawns are black and which are white.
I have made my moves and since they turned out to be black, I do not regret it, because I know the next move is going to be white. It is elusive; Lot of time and effort wasted but goal finally has become clear. The moves are clear. What gives me most happiness is clear. It is good to have a single track mind and while it was engaged in the pursuit of pain ever, it is time to pursue happiness. Happiness in the pursuit of “M” square.
Today as I write this, I do not know, if I am ever going to see her or talk to her ever again but if the world is a small place, we will bang in to each other in the strangest of places, least expected. The only difference will however be “M” square. No one can falter me off the goal till I decide to do so and I really don’t care how long and how difficult the road ahead might be. My single track mind is set on the objective and the objective is my own personal wellbeing. No one can or will ever play with my mind again.
The truth is however all you had to say the three magic words “I moved on” and in all the world no one had to suffer, no bad feelings and every one would have been happy.

Post -Mortem

2011-08-25T00:56:00.000-07:00

Go where the drama is, Sagittarius, but not where the melodrama is. Place yourself in the path of the most interesting power, but don't get distracted by displays of power that are dehumanizing or narcissistic. You are in a phase of your astrological cycle when you have a mandate to intensify your excitement with life and increase your ability to be deeply engaged with what attracts you. I urge you to be as brave as you once were when you conquered a big fear and to be as curious as you were when you discovered a big secret about who you are. For extra credit, be highly demonstrative in your expression of what you care about.
This was the weeks forecast for my star sign. Go where the drama is, but not where the melodrama is. I wondered as I sat down reading the statement. I had come to completion of a long journey, which had been nothing but pain in the back side. Three years of constant struggle with few periods of joy and excitement. There were so many dreams, hopes, aspirations that had been shattered due to unavoidable circumstances. I was no longer the innocent person I used to be, and while I had decided not to fall in to any traps of the love kind again , a melodrama started to unveil itself right before my eyes. I was being blamed for not responding to telephone numbers and not keeping in touch and yet I was too cautious not to fall in to that trap again. After all I had suffered enough and did not want to put myself in to any more pain again. Those who know me know it well that once I become cold its really tough to make me warm again because cold is generally associated with death and once someone or something dies, it is gone. I may respond but may never feel the same again because something died and when you try to revive it, all you discover is worms of the past and that rotten smell.
I decided to place myself in the path of a more interesting power. The power of my mind and decided to go forward and study the complex functioning of my mind. It had been lately playing havoc with my psyche showing me signs of the future to come and it was extremely important for me to read these signals than fall prey to mind games that someone was trying to play with me once again. I really wasn’t keen on it any more. It was really up to me how and where I put an end to it. It was easy .
My mandate in life was to do something extraordinary and not falling in to complex relationships with no future was definitely not going to be a part of it any more so I decided to take this road trip and yet as I stop on my journey, making these notes, it is something important that I need to do as these questions with no answers will keep on haunting my mind if I do not respond to them. Over the years I have realized that the best way to sort out your mind is to write it all down, so it does acts a guiding force in the future. Off course you are not going to listen to what your mind at that point of time told was correct. You either are too madly in love not wanting to believe that the person you are in love with is going to hurt you more than the last one. Perhaps you try to make a relationship successful and not make the same mistakes as you did in the last, but, in the end if your destiny defines you as not meant for love, you shall be hurt even worse.
It does say to conquer your biggest fear. I was always afraid of falling in love. I knew when it came to sustaining myself in the real world, I would figure out a way and God has always been merciful in those regards. It is only this “Love” that has often caused problems in my life. Someone once told me if not said with conviction means nothing. How true it was because I do believe that whenever I have said it, I have always meant it. Perhaps I loved that person too much and used it too often for it to have lost meaning in that person’s eyes.
It is not that, I don’t feel bad. I may proclaim a lot of things about myself and yet when asked a simple question “I think you still love me” I am not able to answer it. May be love is like a fire, when you fuel it, it burns bright and when it dies down, the ambers still are hot enough, that is taken as love. The only thing that can help in such cases is to put ice cold water and yet we are afraid that the ashes may generate enough steam to scald us for life. The best way is to leave it alone. With time everything dies and the ambers will also become cold to be swept away by strong rains or winds.
Who am I? A question that has perplexed me for ages and an answer that I seek. I was named Siddhartha. It means one whose aim in life is accomplished. It is a rather strange case to be born with your life’s aim accomplished, without even knowing it. I may be fortunate for knowing it and yet my quest for a true soul mate deludes me. May be I will find her, maybe I don’t. I really don’t care about it anymore for I am setting off on a new quest. A journey that is only beginning.

PSI or just going Insane

2011-08-24T21:09:00.000-07:00

In Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass, the White Queen tells Alice that in her land, "memory works both ways." Not only can the Queen remember things from the past, but she also remembers "things that happened the week after next." Alice attempts to argue with the Queen, stating "I'm sure mine only works one way... I can't remember things before they happen." The Queen replies, "It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards.”
There is no escaping the complex mind. As I sat down wondering how can I get rid of the thoughts that plagued me, intrigued me no matter where I went. The road trip was coming up nicely but the very things that I was trying to escape kept on haunting me. After all you can’t stop your mind from functioning and to block any thoughts seemed impossible.
It was this time my mind had started to churn out scenarios from the future in the form of dreams, vivid in colours and descriptions, the details were amazing and often I would wake up wondering if it was a dream of reality. In the fleeting seconds of dreaming I would capture details of events that were going to happen in the near future and this is when I discovered the phenomenon called PSI. Our brains could actually go forward in space and time and bring forth events that had already happened or were to happen. At first I thought it was Déjà vu, where insignificant events were being shown in great details but then the déjà vu started to occur more often and I could in my dream state actually go to the events as they occurred.
The events were insignificant still like chat conversations or daily activities, but they were occurring more often and the time space gap was reducing. I was seeing events that would happen as close to the next day which surprised me. I was actually able to see the future as it was going to happen the next day. This was a perplexing phenomenon and while no answers were on the internet, my mind was creating havoc with my psyche. The events now were merging together to form alternate reality that was different to the real world and dream world. I would not know now what was real and what wasn’t.
It was during this time I started to talk to my guiding angels, Angels that I had made peace with not long ago and perhaps not being able to talk to any one in particular they were the only ones whom I would speak to. Ten years ago when I was living in Agra all alone a similar phenomenon had occurred when I would speak to God. This time it wasn’t loud conversations but seeking guidance for salvation from the agony I was going through both in personnel and professional life.
The hazy events as seen in dreams would often manifest right before my eyes leaving me wondering if I was to believe in them or not. For that matter how do I make out what was real and what was just a figment of my imagination. The answer lies in belief. The dreams that you have are all real and will come true if you believe in them. They are just a symbolism of events that are about to occur and if you work on them and are able to bring forward some essential elements from the future in to your past, you just may collide to worlds, creating different reality in your life.
It does seem impossible but over the months and after lot of trial and errors I have finally been able to control my dream world and remember things that are a part of the alternate reality. As said before when the parallel universe you live in collides with the real world. It becomes one. The world you were living in becomes the world you dreamt off. However it does take a lot of patience and belief which over the years, living alone and believing in a dream can only fulfil. It’s not impossible. Nothing in this world is actually impossible and when you truly believe, it will happen but for sure you first have to believe in it and then let the guiding angels talk to you, how where and when it will come true through dreams. However it is important that you believe in them and act knowing well that the only way out is the way in. Once you have acted upon, there is no way you can go back and the only way is to move forward because when alternate reality merges with the real world, there is not much you can do to change it .
Coming back to the cause and effect phenomenon or the PSI phenomenon, it is often said we all are mere mortals guided by our destinies and yet we seem to ignore the signals that our brains send to us in the form of future events or dreams knowing or dismissing it as just a dream. When you actually are able to listen to the signals, and act upon it. To sum it up we do know what is a lost cause and yet we fight to achieve it or we know that in the future certain events are about to happen yet we ignore then until it’s too late.
I do understand it does not make sense but then it is my mind that for now is making me go forward and make me understand that I may be knowing what’s going to happen in my immediate future as close as tomorrow but then those are just minor events, no life altering events until I am able to figure out a way to control my dreams to tell me what I really need to know.

The complex mind

2011-08-22T22:49:00.000-07:00

The highest unclimbed mountain in the world is Gangkhar Puensum, an almost 25,000-foot-tall beauty in Bhutan. It will remain free of human influence indefinitely, as local authorities are keen on preventing the environmental degradation that has occurred on popular peaks like Mt. Everest, where climbers have left lots of trash. What's the equivalent in your sphere, Sagittarius? The most prominent unconquered prize? The Grail that still remains elusive? The virgin treasure your quest has not yet won? According to my analysis, you now have the potential to make tangible progress toward that goal. Unlike the case with Gangkhar Puensum, there are no rules or laws preventing you.
This was supposed to be my horoscope for the week. Well unlike the Everest (yes, it’s on my to do list for sure), I sat down wondering what was that ever elusive goal I had been seeking in life. What is the Holy Grail? It definitely doesn’t represent the carpenter’s cup promising eternal life and yet in its search I had failed more than once in life, often ignoring the well sought after lessons life has to offer.
It could be only some form a test that has been laid out in front of me, that requires devotion and years of practise and yet my solution to it has been to create a world of alternate reality where everything, I ever want is manifested on my beck and command. I have lived in this world for the last six months and perhaps had lost touch with reality which offers harsh lessons, which I couldn’t ignore any more.
I had been reading a lot of things about how things can be manifested when you desire truly deeply and yet my only desire was remained unfulfilled that off course did not involve any miracles but just a little communication on some ones part. It’s strange how my Holy Grail had eluded me once more only to re-assess the situation and wonder, if it had all been ever worth it. Does commitment even meant anything anymore, when people are just selfish in nature.
Surly there is a lot to learn from the last three years, the lessons learnt, the need full done and yet one thing remains intact, my confidence and determination to take life heads on. This however does have a few changes. Over the last three years I learnt so well, never sacrifice anything for any one because in general people do not appreciate when you do something for them and in the end it is you who has to suffer.
It is a tough road ahead of me in life; off course my alternate reality helps me keep focused on my path only to change me a little more. Is it called maturity? I wonder if I could ever play my computer games for hours together forgetting about the world in general, where completing the next level used to be the most important task on hand. The Holy Grail achieved after two days of trial and error. The satisfaction of completing a level and moving on to the next one at four in the morning wondering what was in store for me next?
I could no longer sit in front of my gaming console and five minutes of shooting in the air left me wondering, why I was even trying to shoot when, I was not even aiming right. It was time to think once again, and then it dawned to me that I was a grown up. Life had finally made me bend down but had it broken me, I wondered?
What is the best way out of the mess? Yes after years of loitering around not taking life seriously, keeping others before me, I knew it was time to take out my things to do list. After all I remember completing most of the things to do before thirty list. Ok, so is it time to make things to do before forty list?
I sat down with a pen and paper and tried writing down. Did I really want to write everything down and make my life predictable for the next six odd years? Nah, that’s not me. I live in uncertainty and that is what gives me the adrenaline rush to look forward to the next day. The thrill of a jump is only when you do not know how far or how deep you are going to fall. So I folded the paper and chucked it in the bin. Where am I headed next?
Definitely not to repeat the old experiences, they are boring for me. What do I believe in? I believe that everything in my alternate reality will collide with the real world and merge together to make me a better human being. What is my aim in life? I have been searching for my aim since the last fifteen years and yet a settled life does not figure on it, no matter how hard I try to achieve it. I once told my friend, if you get married life would be coming home having a cup of tea, talking to your wife, watching television, have food and sleep. I somehow over the years longed for it, tried so hard for it, and yet to complete the equation you need someone who is guided by a free will, something I forgot about. Your wish may come true because you pray hard and finally one day God has mercy on you and manifests it, but even God can’t control free will. It is something that God gave us to make our decisions and when we try to control, we lose.
The road trip had been something; I had been planning for ages. It’s not inspired by any movies; it does not have a definite travel route. I plan to travel, the road where ever it takes me, because it’s a road trip, which more importantly than not is not the physical trip from point A to point B but a trip in to my mind, that keeps churning out complex equations without any answers.

Osama's Ghost

2011-08-03T01:19:00.000-07:00

As the news of Osama Bin laden shot dead trickeled in, i sat down and wondered how it was going to effect the world. Would the world was going to be a safer place. Would the world sleep in peace. The fact that Osama had been like a ghost for all these years, i feel he was just a figure head of a large corporation that sold terrorism as a product.

While the americans rejoice the death of a body, the ghost of bin laden survives in the form of his terror outfit al qaeda.

Al-Qaeda as an integrated network that is strongly led from the Pakistani tribal areas and has a powerful strategic purpose. Bruce Hoffman, a terrorism expert at Georgetown University, said "It amazes me that people don't think there is a clear adversary out there, and that our adversary does not have a strategic approach" Hoffman was so true when he made this statement. while the fact remains that Bin laden knew that after the attacks of 9/11 on the twin towers, he will be the most sought after. i do beleive that he had organised his chain of command and distributed power amidst his subordinates to retire in to the shadows. The additional time he got in the form of a decade was just an icing on the cake for the corporation. While it was inevitable for him to escape for ever, it does show the inefficiency of the American goverment who supported pakistan so vehemently.

While the USA issued travel warnings, it shows how afraid the americans still are of the ghost of laden. The fact is that it is going to haunt them in the times to come. Laden is dead only to be suceeded by 20 or 30 people who hold regional CEO positions for the network . While the group may get divided in to various outfits with no specific leader just as it happened with Alexander's empire, there is a posibilty, more attacks may occur as a matter of fact more vicious ones.

An organisation that believes in loyalty and jihad, where death is a way to the heaven, Osama bin laden was a decoy in a game that led the americans to loose billions of dollars and get involved in a war that has been on for ten years.It will be interesting to note how events are going to turn or just like inthe past .....as Osama died so many times before...he managed to decieve the Americans once again smiling, sitting in a bunker planning his next move, while a faithful loyal who underwent cosmetic surgery lies at the bottom of the sea.

While Obama's needed some thing to boost up his political career due to falling popularity, it comes as a perfect plan to increase it . A conspiracy theory seen so many times in the movies, but in real life for the first time to save a political career. As i sit and smile and wonder how the world falls for one man's political ambitions, Osama sits comfortable in a bunker thinking finally he became a ghost for real, or better still in heaven for he believed jihad was a way to heaven and he met his god finally

Terrorism A cause and effect study

2011-08-03T01:16:00.000-07:00

While the world rejoices victory over terrorism, i sat down thinking once again. It kept bothering me how Osama bin laden was the most wanted man and how he was termed a terrorist. what is a terrorist.

A 2003 study by Jeffrey Record for the US Army quoted a source (Schmid and Jongman 1988) that counted 109 definitions of terrorism that covered a total of 22 different definitional elements. Record continued "Terrorism expert Walter Laqueur also has counted over 100 definitions and concludes that the 'only general characteristic generally agreed upon is that terrorism involves violence and the threat of violence.' Yet terrorism is hardly the only enterprise involving violence and the threat of violence. So does war, coercive diplomacy, and bar room brawls".

As Bruce Hoffman has noted: "terrorism is a pejorative term. It is a word with intrinsically negative connotations that is generally applied to one's enemies and opponents, or to those with whom one disagrees and would otherwise prefer to ignore. Hence the decision to call someone or label some organization 'terrorist' becomes almost unavoidably subjective, depending largely on whether one sympathizes with or opposes the person/group/cause concerned. If one identifies with the victim of the violence, for example, then the act is terrorism. If, however, one identifies with the perpetrator, the violent act is regarded in a more sympathetic, if not positive (or, at the worst, an ambivalent) light; and it is not terrorism." For this and for political reasons, many news sources (such as Reuters) avoid using this term, opting instead for less accusatory words like "bombers", "militants", etc.

Hoffman nailed the subject or should rather say the definition of terrorism. While in todays world it is the media who defines who is a terrorist and who's not, it is essential for us to go back in to time and see the reasons what made Osama bin laden.

After leaving college in 1979 bin Laden joined Abdullah Azzam to fight the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan and lived for a time in Peshawar. From 1979 through 1989 under U.S. Presidents Carter and Reagan, the United States Central Intelligence Agency provided overt and covert financial aid, arms and training to Osama's Islamic Jihad Mujahideen through Operation Cyclone, and the Reagan Doctrine. President Reagan often praised the Mujahideen as Afghanistan's "Freedom Fighters."

By 1984, with Azzam, bin Laden established Maktab al-Khadamat, which funneled money, arms and Muslim fighters from around the Arabic world into the Afghan war. Through al-Khadamat, bin Laden's inherited family fortune paid for air tickets and accommodation, dealt with paperwork with Pakistani authorities and provided other such services for the jihad fighters. Osama established a camp in Afghanistan and with other volunteers fought the Soviets.

It was during his time in Peshawar that he began wearing camouflage-print jackets and carrying a captured Soviet assault rifle, which urban legends claimed he had obtained by killing a Russian soldier with his bare hands.

The same goverment that once praised the efforts of Mujahideen in their efforts to back of the russian invasion created a guriella force only to abandon it once its purpose was accomplished.

Following the Soviet Union's withdrawal from Afghanistan in February 1989, Osama bin Laden returned to Saudi Arabia in 1990 as a hero of jihad, who along with his Arab legion, "had brought down the mighty superpower" of the Soviet Union.

The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait under Saddam Hussein on August 2, 1990 put the Saudi kingdom and the House of Saud at risk, with Iraqi forces on the Saudi border and Saddam's appeal to pan-Arabism potentially inciting internal dissent. bin Laden met with King Fahd, and Saudi Defense Minister Sultan, telling them not to depend on non-Muslim assistance from the United States and others, offering to help defend Saudi Arabia with his mujahideen. Bin Laden's offer was rebuffed, and after the Saudi monarchy invited the deployment of U.S. troops in Saudi territory, Osama publicly denounced Saudi Arabia's dependence on the U.S. military. Osama believed the presence of foreign troops in the "land of the two mosques" (Mecca and Medina) profaned sacred soil. Bin Laden's criticism of the Saudi monarchy led that government to attempt to silence him.

Shortly after Saudi Arabia invited U.S. troops into Saudi Arabia, bin Laden turned his attention to attacks on the West. On November 8, 1990, the FBI raided the New Jersey home of El Sayyid Nosair, an associate of al Qaeda operative Ali Mohamed, discovering copious evidence of terrorist plots, including plans to blow up New York City skyscrapers. This marked the earliest discovery of al Qaeda terrorist plans outside of Muslim countries.

While the plans were discovered as early as 1990 to blow down the NY sky scrapers , the USA goverment did little as to curb down the inevitable threat only to be surprised on 9/11/2001. Eleven years after, it had knowledge of the full plot, declaring war on Afganistan.

Why did Osama Bin laden turn against the Americans, because he had realized in his war against the soviets, how Americans used the native population for their own advantage and all he had done was to try and stop the western world from taking over the black gold mines. He understood that the middle east once captured by the united nations will face the same fate as afganistan had .

He did what he wanted to do, bieng labeled as terrorist. The question however remains, can we hold him liable for his actions. He was just doing what any one of us would have done if an enemy entered our house, attack. While his religious views allowed sacrifice of civilians he chose to destroy the symbols of the american Monarchy ,the twin towers.

Over the years in its raid of afganistan millions of people are either dead or homeless by the hands of American troops. Going back to the definiton of hoffman, in this case american forces are the terrorists who on pretext of capturing Osama bin laden have over the years plundered Afganistan.

Going back in history, it can be seen that world war two ended by the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Japan had attacked the pearl harbour. a military attack held on military outpost of the americans. the cost was paid by millions of japanese civilians who no only died in the attack but had to bear the consequences of radiation for many more years to come . Drawing similarities between the two attacks the NY twin tower and the Atom bomb, the twin tower attacks had far lesser impact on the normal lively hood of people in the United states and yet America launched a full fledged war against a nation. While it may sound pretty anti - american but the fact is USA has always retaliated at a much larger scale, when ever such a thing has happened .

While the next destination of the American forces is Libya, that is right now going through a civil war, why is the USA concerned, remains a question except the fact that more recently, americans were on the verge of using their own oil reserves. It would be interesting to observe, that the reason for which the war was launched , now that it has be obliterated, will the war end or Afganistan like, iraq before will satisfy the greed of the american colgomerates who in the name of rebuilding will control the resources, ruling the nation.Freedom, a term used so vehemantly used, what does it mean if all we believe is what is fed to us through news footage and people on the streets waving the flag.

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My brush with the Man eater of Kumaon

2011-08-03T01:15:00.000-07:00

As I sat on my normal, everyday perch – the small rock at the foot of the hill on top of which is a temple with its saffron flag fluttering in the wind that always blows in the early part of the afternoon – and keep a watch over the buffalos who were not all visible now because they have wandered off in the vast jungle that stretched all around, I saw the man walking towards me from the end of the path. The path passed touching my rock – the rock actually butting into the path and covering about one fourth of it – and then stretched straight for about two hundred yards after which it took a slight bend towards the left. All around was silence punctured now and then and accentuated by the bells tied to the buffalos. So much silence that if a dead leaf falls, you could hear it touch-down. So much silence that, if you had ears as sharp as mine, you could hear it cutting the air as it fell. The mountain gods looked down and smiled. I wore a shabby look, which resembled that of any locale that had let go of his appearance a long time ago. As I felt the wind chill in my neck, I pulled my collars up to keep my ears warm as my beard swayed in the wind callously marking the insanity that I had entered in to.

The man is walking carefully, his senses alert. But he was not slow. From the distance I could see that he was a foreigner, a Lat Sahib, because he wore faded green trousers with a faded grey shirt and his head is adorned by a hat. He had a stick in his hand which he is held above the ground that swayed with his walk. A gun slung across his shoulders. He is quite tall and slim.

I knew who he was. Not that I had met him or come across him previously. But I knew from what I had heard from others that he is the Lat Sahib who has been putting up in the neighbouring village for the past three weeks. He had come here to kill the man-eater. He was good at it too – had killed many so far. I thought he was good because tigers were attracted to him. So they gave him a chance to kill them.

In a way the man-eater had contributed to the silence. In the past three years, this tiger had killed and eaten more than two hundred people from the hills. From that particular town itself, it had killed nineteen people. The last that it took was a young girl who had gone with ten or so other women in the afternoon to collect fuel wood. While they were doing so, the tiger stalked them. It followed them, silent like death, creeping like death and then springing with the suddenness of death. The women knew about its presence only when it had already grabbed the girl by her throat and was dragging her away. The remaining women shouted and screamed and stampeded back to the village, while the girl remained silent because she had her throat in the tiger’s jaws. By the time the men were summoned and a few of them summoned their courage and a search party was formed, the tiger had already soused its hunger completely. So what they brought back was just a few bits of flesh and a few bones and her red coloured clothes. She was cremated right there in the village itself because everyone was terrified of venturing farther than that.

Because of the man-eater, people didn’t move much. Men did go to their fields and women did go to collect sticks and leaves and grass. Because if you stop all that you would die anyway. But everyone was on their guard and tense all the time. And no one spent more time than necessary outdoors. By four in the afternoon, the doors were closed and people were already inside as a ghostly hushing hung outside the doors and floated in the streets. Tigers mostly don’t stir in the afternoon. They begin moving only just before sundown. But this one was unpredictable. The last victim that it took, she was taken when the afternoon hadn’t even started blushing. So people stood indoors even in the afternoons unless they had to step out. Traffic between villages had come to a halt – close relatives didn’t visit even in marriage ceremonies. Celebrations were less while cremations were more. I however was not scared and wondered if the tiger was watching me at that instant.

Since people had almost stopped visiting nearby villages, the traffic on this path had dwindled. As it is, it used to be deserted almost all the time even otherwise. But now, even the one or two who would pass during any given day are gone. The silence here is complete. Shiv Shakti was the last resort before one would enter the tiger territory.

Not that afternoon needed any assistance for its silence. In fact the silence of the afternoon was deeper than the silence of the night. Most people thought that it is the night that spreads more silence. But they couple the absence of light with the silence and reach their conclusions. Silence in the afternoon is deeper even with the light being harsh. In the night the tiger, the leopard the jackals hunt. It is the howls of the hyenas that make the night silence eerie. The bears are constantly on the move searching for food and their grunts and other sounds carry in the night. The hunted give alarm calls and run. Only the birds sleep. In the afternoon, all take shelter from the sun and conserve energy. Even the birds that filled the very air with their songs go silent. The only birds that seem unaffected are the crow, the woodpecker, the drongo, the blue jay, the bee eater and the egret.

The man was near my rock now. If my ears were not sharp, I wouldn’t have heard him. He was slowing down, looking at me. So I knew that he would stop and talk to me.

“Keeping a watch on the cows?” he asked.

“Buffalos,” I told him. He was sun burnt and very handsome. And he knew a bit of the local our language.

“Uh…huh,” he says. He took out a packet of cigarettes. I took out my packet as he lit up a cigarette. He looked at me disdainfully but didn’t comment.

“Got to keep alert.” He said “The buffalos went that way. ”

I looked at him. He knew very well which side Jindu buffalos must have wanders. Behind me were the hills and the temple atop it. It is a completely rocky terrain and buffalos won’t go up there because there was no grass. In front of me was the dense jungle that had enticed me so often but the stories of the tiger had kept me away. An odd tinkling or two of their bells is still audible from that side. But I knew why he is asking the question. When two strangers meet, inanities are the perfect tool to dissolve the initial awkwardness. I indicated which way they had wandered with a nod of my head.

“How long have you been a shepherd?” he asked me. “Idiot, thinks I am a shepherd.” I thought as I looked at him with a strange look but decided to play the game. I was feeling heady and didn’t want to tell him why I was here in the mountains or what I was searching. The fact was I knew that the tiger wasn’t going to harm me. My time hadn’t come and yet I wasn’t willing to take the risk of walking across the path and go that water fall that had lured me so many times before.

“The buffalos started knowing me from the time I was a child,” I lied.

He takes a good look at me now. “How long will you be here?” he asked.

I look at the shadows wondering if he wanted to know when I was headed back to the plains or just back to the guest house. “Two hours more. Then the buffalos will start coming back to this rock.” I hoped so. Jindu and his buffalos were a nuisance and I had secretly wished that the tiger would take them out one by one just the way predator had taken out Arnie’s team in the movie “Predator.”

“You always sit on this rock? Every day?” he was beginning to annoy me as the colours of the sky had started to change. The mountains were turning pink. Soon it was going to be dark.

“The rock has taken the character of my buttocks,” I smiled.

He laughed .

“You are very different from the rest of the villagers. The others treat me deferentially. Obsequiously. You don’t. Why is that?” had he realised I wasn’t one of them.

“Do the buffalos treat you different from the other men?” I asked him back portraying to be Jindu’s shepherd.

He shook his head.

“Then they know better than my fellow villagers,” I told him.

He laughed again. And I could tell he is really enjoying himself. I smiled wondering how much I had changed. I was being taken for an ordinary villager. I wondered if I stayed on for long enough would I become just like Jindu. Perhaps I would marry his daughter and live happily ever after, I didn’t want my life to end in that hill district or the village as this guy had termed it as. Where was the tiger? Wasn’t he hungry?

“You think a lot?” he asked me.

“There is nothing else here to do.” I answered trying to be polite. I wanted him to leave but as luck would have it he seemed to have all the time in the world at this point where the town came to an end and the so called tiger territory started.

He threw his cigarette as he understood, I wasn’t in a mood to make chit chat. He straightened his stick. As I fiddled on my empty packet for another cigarette, I realised I had run out of smokes. He understood and offered me one.

“Smoke this when you feel like relaxing,” he said. “By the way, the man-eater is in this area right now. I saw his fresh pugmarks on this very path just ahead of me. Probably he heard me coming and so wandered off in the direction your buffalos are. I went in the jungle tracing his pugmarks but lost the trail after sometime,” he looked at me seriously. I wondered if he was trying to pull my leg. I had been there for almost two hours and if any of those cows were not coming back, I wasn’t going back in to the jungle looking for them.

Then, before he started on his way again, he yelled, “Take care.”

Only I and the tiger have the ears to hear his footfall. alcohol if made your reflexes sluggish, it enhanced your power of hearing for sure. I was pretty definite I could hear god if I tried hard enough too.

What I had told him was true. There is nothing here to do except think. The silence in the afternoon was so thick that it pushes your thoughts up. Villagers who are Moslem tell me that Mohammed was a shepherd. And I think that the Jesus that the white man believes in was also a shepherd. I could understand. Only shepherds can form new religions. Their thoughts are precipitated by the silence of the afternoon. In a way it is silence that gives rise to new religions. I looked at the cigarette and decided to light it up. It was a heady combination of dope , tiger scare and the thought of becoming a spiritual guru. Pretty soon the snow would start to melt and the town would start to fill up with newlyweds who shall be fed with endless tales of the man eater, each man telling a different story of how it was captured , what role he had played in it or if it was still at large, how they should lock their rooms at night. There was still time a month or so perhaps and this man seemed to be promising.

I look to my left. The man was just on the verge of disappearing around the bend. His footmarks were clear in the loose soil. If the tiger could read the pugmarks, he could catch up with him. I wondered who was following whom as I got up to look at my watch. It was getting late. The buffalos should be on their way back. I wondered why I was suddenly getting worried about Jindu’s buffalos. They were after all his buffalos and if it weren’t for the dope, I would have definitely not been able to sleep at night.

A blue jay arrived on the tree in front and looked around for insects. It made a few dives but came up with nothing in the beak. Then it started to shriek. Its mate replied from somewhere in the jungle. But something made me look to the left again. The man-eater has suddenly appeared there. It is walking unhurriedly. Then it too disappeared around the bend. Was I dreaming? I had just seen the ever elusive stripes and that too a man eater. Why he didn’t choose me as his afternoon snack, I wondered. Perhaps tiger just like any other predator smells for fear or a weapon. If unarmed he would not attack you just like the predator in the movie. Or perhaps he didn’t want to get doped and made a easy target. The rules of the game were simple. Eliminate the threat first, easy could wait.

There is no way that I could warn the hunter– the tiger was between me and him. And in any case, if his instinct was like that which made me look suddenly to the left, he would know of the tiger’s presence automatically. And even otherwise, I knew one thing – taught to me by nature, by the silence, by my long observations and by my thoughts. What happens happens. You can do zilch to change it.

I may as well enjoy that cigarette now. As I took a drag I heard a faint roar, then a gun fire. I saw the man walking back in a triumph; I knew the tiger was dead. I knew in the fleeting seconds that the tigers eyes had met mine, I knew it now, he had walked to his death sparing me .

The autopsy of the body revealed a broken hind leg that had become infected, that had led it to become a man eater. Perhaps the pain had become unbearable. Perhaps he had heard the conversation between the hunter and me. Perhaps he wanted to go out like the king of the jungle. Who knew ?

My Ghostly Encounter

2011-08-03T01:12:00.000-07:00

.I fondly remember the days when I was a young kid, zooming around town on my new motorbike that I had got after much fighting and desperation. I had been in Nainital and the hills while always had fascinated me, never seemed to amaze me with their majestic appearance that made us humans look small.

Nainital is a small district in the hills of Uttaranchal in India and while the town was now a days flooded with tourists, whose sole aim was to make the crowded outlets more crowded, I on the other hand was obsessed with discovering the colourful grave yards that not only gave me a hint at the history of the place but also stood there as a remainder of the sad past our rulers aka the British had entailed while trying to rule a country obsessed with freedom and Mahatma Gandhi alike.

I would often go and sit in these graveyards, reading inscription on the graves that while, had stood the harsh weather, had failed to save their inhabitants from the careless grave robbers. More than once I would come across a skull or a bone that once belonged to a gora sahib who had once ruled the locals with a disdainful smile and an iron fist. Today it laid here remembering of the past glory as a spider scurried around its eye socket.

I had been visiting the grave of Colonel James Robert 51, RAF division and had died in 1896, close to hundred years earlier. I wondered often as I would look at the grave that was adorned with a sculpture of a beautiful angel that was supposed to protect him through the long journey in to heaven or hell. Colonel James unfortunately wasn’t a victim of some gunfight but had fallen to Cholera, one of the deadliest killers in the hills around the area. Cholera had survived even after hundred years, while more than ninety % of the graves in the grave yard were victims of the dreaded disease, it amazed me how cholera had won the accolades for its role in the freedom movement. It’s something like if people die in a natural disaster, it’s sad but if they die in a bomb attack, there are terrorist to blame it on.

The grave had been broken open. I had been writing to the local newspapers in regards to this, of course secretly. I didn’t want anyone to know about it as people would have found it weird, more over my trips to these beautiful graveyards would have ended, my parents branding me as a lunatic. I did believe they still thought so, but never admitted it. In a country where live people could not get justice, it was hard for the dead more so, their graves robbed by men guided by hunger and unemployment. These graves were often sources of medals made of precious metals that were earned after hard work. I wondered if anyone of the grave robbers ever wondered if there was an antique value attached to it. Those were the days when graves attracted me more than the living and while the silence was eerie, it proclaimed peace away from the maddening crowds that were taking over the city like a swarm of crickets demolishing a corn field.

I felt bad, because the colonel had been a silent friend till now and had heard to everything I had to tell him with patience, not that he could do anything about it, after all he was dead. I looked at his skull that lay near the shattered angel, who had been unable to protect the colonel last night as he was robbed of his medals and dignity alike. I picked up his skull and looked at my friend for the first time. The hollow eye sockets stared back at me. Was he pleased to see me? I carefully place the skull back in to the grave as I said a silent prayer, not for his peace but praying that he wouldn’t grab me and pull me back in to the grave with him while I kept the head down with the rest of the bones. Once the skull was carefully secured back in to the grave I pushed the top stone back in to place feeling sad for the colonel.

I stood back and looked at my handy work. The grave was secured and while the angel no longer was protecting the colonel, I had done my part in saving him from facing further indignity by dogs, hyenas and other predators that lurked in the dark alike. As I said a silent prayer, I saw a man approaching me. He was young and handsome, his tailor made suit draping his thin frame, he looked the part of a corporate lawyer. He swayed his umbrella as he walked towards me. As he came closer, I looked at him more closely. He was a Gora sahib. I wondered what he was doing in the graveyard. Perhaps he had come to pay his respect to his fore fathers or something. I had seen grandsons and granddaughters of rulers coming back not only in search of their history but also to pay respect to their graves. I smiled as he walked in to an audible distance.

“Hello” his accent was definitely British. “Hi” I replied as I looked at him wondering if he was real or a ghost. He seemed real but places sometimes make you see things and graveyards and ghosts go hand in hand. I looked at him closely. He wasn’t translucent or a floating. He was real for sure.

“Just visiting a friend” I said trying to hide my awkwardness. After all I was in a graveyard putting stones on a grave. He could have taken me for a grave robber. “It’s ok.” He said. He had noticed that I was feeling awkward. “so you live around the area?” I asked him trying to make a conversation.

“Yeah, just around the corner.” He pointed in to the direction he came from. I looked at the trail that disappeared in to the forest. “Someday I will go further” I made a mental note to myself.

“Nice to meet you, I am Sid” I introduced myself.

“Hi, I am James.” He said as he shook my hand. His hands were cold, but so were mine. It was cold and soon the sun would go down. I looked into the horizon and saw clouds frantically lining up as if in preparation of a drill.

“The weather might be bad pretty soon.” I looked at him.

“Yeah, bollocks. I was just headed for the city.” James said.

“I can drop you, where are you headed for?” I asked him.

“Boat house club” he said.

“Good lets go then” I didn’t want to spend any more time in the grave yard. It was getting weird by the minute, as fog started to spread in the grave yard. I knew when it was time to go. Fog was bad not because I would see ghosts but I always used to get headaches because of it. I kick started my bike and with James, I set out for the town. The city was crowded with revellers partying on the streets. We reached the club and James invited me for a drink. I was getting late.

“Some other time, I know where you live now.” I joked with him.

“Yeah, you do, don’t worry your secrets safe with me” he said as he turned around and disappeared in to the club.

I smiled. I had a new friend. I reached home and as usual got a scolding for staying out so late. Rules were rules and coming home late especially with exams looming over my head wasn’t something that pleased my parents.

I pulled up my blanket and thought of the day’s events. The graveyard and James.

“Your secrets safe with me” I felt a chill run down my spine. Only last week I had told the grave me darkest secret. My crush, my infatuation.

“Thanks colonel” I smiled as I dreamed of my secret.

The trail that James had told me ended in to a cliff and there was no James registered as a member of the club. The colonel had found a way to thank me for making him at peace once again. I smiled to have met someone after hundred years, only if I had known and asked him more about life in his era. After all he had seen it all first hand.

Angels, Destiny and Me

2011-08-03T01:10:00.000-07:00

“Man is a social animal.” As a school going kid I always used to start my essay writing with this sentence developing on the subject, the second paragraph onwards .during those days, little did I know what the sentence meant and how it was going to affect my life in the future.

It was the summers of 1999, the kargil war was on and I was living in Agra, a city famous for the Taj Mahal and leather tanneries alike. The temperature was soaring to 50 degree centigrade and the only comfort I had in my room was a fan that was on the mercy of the electricity board. Nights used to be filled with mosquitos that would swarm in to my room, if a window was left open and closing a window would not be an option due to heat that would come out of the floor that had baked in the hot summer sun throughout the day.

I used to live alone in a rental room that belonged to an old lady who had divided her house in to rooms, which she would let out to hoteliers. She would charge insane amounts and at eighty years of age, her obsession with money was something that made me wonder, how some people never stop even after losing all the relations in their lives. Since I was the only tenant living in her house those days and me without a job, I would spend the days finding ways how to keep the room cool. Often I would pour water on the floors, only to find it evaporated within a few minutes. Life just as was beginning had come to a standstill and I was alone.

The old lady was definitely short of eyesight as she would often bring me crap food, perhaps to have a chat with me or to share her loneliness with me. I definitely did not enjoy these interactions and would try to avoid her on some pretext or the other. Now I didn’t mind talking to her but the food she would bring used to be inedible, she forcing me to eat it while she was around. More than once I had found ants in the food and knew that she was short of eyesight. Off course at these times I would keep it aside, trying to be polite and telling her that I would have it later on.

I often wondered about her family. She had a son who was working for some MNC in a multinational company in Delhi. I often wondered why she didn’t go and stay with him. What if something happened to her in the middle of the night? The way I was, I wouldn’t come to know of it till her body started to rot in the room she used to live.

The thought would scare me and while I was catching on much of the action happening in Kargil through “India today”, I would read stories of valour and death of men who were my age. The first televised war had caught my attention and while names like Vikram Batra were becoming house hold names, I was in the process of losing my identity.

Once too often , I would see myself standing in front of the mirror talking to myself or God. Those were the days when talking aloud was becoming a way to keep myself entertained and the old lady would often peep out of window wondering whom I was talking too.

My conversations would often go around starting with “Why I have to go through this God?” The answers would only come in the form of “Wait” and I would wait . I had been living like this for almost three months and while these conversations with me had been becoming more intense, I often wondered if I was going to find an answer.

The old lady however would only be concerned about if I was going to stay on for another month or not, that I was without a job. I would often plead to god in regards to showing me a way and what was I supposed to do. Over time I have believed in my guiding angel more than hard work and it has always listened. Perhaps I was allocated one during those times of hardship and when I came close to God. It has never left me and whenever I am distressed or in need of a job, a miracle has occurred in my life. Something, someone has appeared out of nowhere and helped me out. That angel has taken many forms, many shapes and has guided me through tough times, through bad times but has never left me only to give me something better.

In the parallel universe where angels work in accordance to your destiny, perhaps destiny is nothing but your guiding angel. It shows you a way and makes you walk on that path for a certain period of time, while preparing you for something better. That evening while I looked up in the sky and had said “God give me a job!”, I had heard a voice call out “Is that you Fuckwit!” An old friend, now a manager at Pizza hut had called me from behind. The next day I had a job.

Over the years I have observed, that whenever I have let go of some thing or tried to make a decision, my guiding angel has become mad at me. It has a different way of telling me how I made a wrong decision as the time wasn’t right. Over the years, I have worked on some of the most beautiful locations in the world as an hotelier, my guiding Angel smiling. Over the years, my guiding angel has taken shape in the form of people who have helped me out, to get over hardships, guiding me, mentoring me.

And yet, after eleven years my destiny once again brought me to one of the most beautiful harbours in the world, because I solely remember the promise I made to God that day, as I had walked in to the setting sun, turning my face away from my angel. I am at peace with my destiny and my Angel

The Little answer

2011-08-03T01:07:00.001-07:00

Little did I know how life throws curve balls as I sat admiring the clouds that took various shapes as wind blew them away in to the horizon. Life had over all been a merry go around and the winds of change had started to appear once again in Mumbai. There was not much to do except look at the ever busy city, talk to oneself and wonder when the so called “Sade Satti” would end.

Now I am one of those sceptics who believe in destiny and angels. In fact in my last articles Angel, destiny and me, I did mention how angels work in accordance to our destiny. During those days however I wasn’t at peace with myself wondering how life was unfolding in front of me. When most of my friends were busy running the corporate rat race, here I was running in search of Nirvana. The backpacker bug had bitten me and while I was busy exploring India, I always wondered if I would ever be a success. Close friends would lend me money and I would be off to my next adventure sitting in cafes, writing stories about characters, drinking coffee and having a chat alike. Life was on the brink of collapsing and yet a glimmer of hope would tell me to look forward to the next day. It was those days when daily routines would range from a variety of activities ranging from spending time on the internet to catching a drink with my corporate friend after he would finish work.

Sterling used to be our favourite haunt and often we would catch on the latest late night shows and Hollywood blockbusters. Of course popcorn and cola never used to be on our menu as none of us were great fans of either and while a couple of smokes used to always on the agenda on those famous steps, philosophy would be discussed against watching girls. We were different. We were young and we were in search of something that was amiss. He wanted my life and I wanted his. I have known “D” for almost 12 years now and still remember how I had met him on the stairs of the catering college hostel. He had a habit of rolling his “R”, spoke American English, and was one of the coolest guys in hostel. We would often meet on weekends living in the same hostel, as we both moved in different groups and yet it was our passion for adventure and movies alike that would bring us together on weekends, when we would catch all the movies at sterling, hitchhiking our way from Dadar to CST.

After college we had lost touch and yet once again had met up when I had appeared at his door steps in Mumbai one fine morning. D had taken me in. I was on my way to live my dream job and Mumbai was a stopover and while I was gone once again, a few months later we were sitting at sterling steps discussing life. He was on his way to success with a telecom giant and I was in an early life crisis. D had been more than a friend and had loaned me a vast amount of money, over that period, no questions asked. He was there always, taking me or vice versa for our so called sterling meets . He often would land there directly from office and me setting off after a job search or day spent on the internet. Life was good and D was a pal.

Over the years , I have often gone away on my quests and while D had always wanted to live the vagabond life, I always dissuaded him in following suit. Being a vagabond in life, while might have taken me to the most amazing places and yet it hasn’t quenched that thirst or answered that age old question of “What is the aim of my life.” Of course moving from place to place has had taken its toll on my life and the back packing hasn’t really turned out the way I always thought it would be. Till now I had seen backpackers and had admired them how they would take a year off from work and travel, go back work a bit more and then again set out on a journey.

The question where did all the money come from was answered recently. Travelling unlike us Indians is different in the western world. It does not involve staying in fancy hotels and it definitely does not involve a search. It is just about being there, done that and having a good time with one’s friends. That’s about it. The whole spiritual quest does not involve travel or for that matter, sitting on a beach or in the hills thinking about life. It can be very well be done while lying in bed after a hard day’s work, being happy making 300 $ a day. What is spirituality? According to me and I do not say that I am a guru on the subject. It is nothing but a state of bliss. Where each morning we get up, feeling good about the morning, heading off to the job we love doing the most , where a challenge is something we look forward to and after a busy day or night at work, one feels happy for having achieved something physically or mentally. My experience on the island was an event where I learned this fact. It wasn’t about the search or quest. It wasn’t about loneliness and it definitely wasn’t about love. Some people find happiness in pursuit of love; others find it following a passion. For me I found out it was work. I have been fortunate enough to do something I love doing the most. So much so that I do not even care about what I am doing as long as it is what I love doing.

Over the time, I have realised how work has kept me happy and just like love, work acts as stimulant to activate those hormones, which makes one feel at bliss. Of course the catch here is always, why do you work?

When your answer is money, you definitely are in the wrong field of work. Sooner or later everyone realises it and there are very few human beings who have the courage to do so. However when you don’t even know what you want to do in life, the situation becomes tricky and it is at that time one needs to understand, quitting is not an option. It is then over trivial pursuits like pursuing love might be of some use. The whole idea behind this exercise is to find something that makes you what you are or perhaps a bit happier than what you were. It is when you realise what you want in life and are willing to begin afresh , from scratch only then shall you achieve what I long set in search off, the feeling of bliss or “Nirvana.”

The Little answer

2011-08-03T01:07:00.000-07:00

Aarushi murder case- A media circus-1

2008-05-26T02:20:00.000-07:00

It has been two days since there has been a controversy on the cricket field. While the nation got gripped with the who dunnit in the Aarushi murder case, TRP of every other program went down. Every minute there was a new update on the channels .Some were catching hold of her friends , the others wanted to know what the maid saw. It was surprising that nobody listened to what the maid was saying. The question for how long she had been working in the Talwar house hold was asked at least 10 times by different persons. They believed by asking this they would be able to conclude something about the police theory. It was a disappointment , that the maid had been there for just a week. Something was to be said ,and for everything that the maid answered “ I don't know” , a Sikh gentleman deduced some flaws in the police theory. I switched my over worked remote to another channel.

New flash –

Dr. Talwar is not the real father, Aarushi's mother married him after the death of her first husband.

Damn .I thought ,so this was the reason for her murder. Dr. Talwar was not the real father. Every channel waited for the police conference to happen .

Dr. Talwar along with his wife and Dr. Durrani had been arrested. (So much so for the monsters. Damn high society people, I thought. )

Police finds the murder weapon, Dr. Talwar admits to crime.

A lot was being expected here by the news channels. They wanted the police to admit to everything they had said whole afternoon. Who doesn't like to say “ Look , we told you first.” The police however had other plans. They didn't give any genuine sound bytes ,either due to lack of evidence or to protect the same. However , the murder that had been already been solved by the members of the media ,who had got information through “ Sources in police” suddenly forgot whatever they had been shouting throughout the afternoon.

I was about to doze off , when the police conference started. A Sikh gentleman who is the IG of police Meerut range entered a conference hall teaming with journalists. He started to speak, but was interrupted with “ We can't hear you” from the journalists. He became interested in getting a mike. Finally after a delay of five or so minutes , he began. He seemed confused and mixed up the deceased name , the press had a field day. While he spoke he contradicted himself a couple of times . Questions were thrown at him. He decided not to answer. A poor case study being presented , in which everybody was involved with everybody in an intimate relation ship. It seemed the police top cops had mixed up a Karan Johar movie with a murder mystery.

What jerk offs. The police under pressure had done , what I was thinking will do, from day one. They had made a murderer out of a father , who was still mourning his daughters death. No other person had been arrested . No murder weapon had been found . The IG police explaining in details how it could have been hidden ,thrown or given to some one,after a journalist pestered him about the inefficiency of the police in not being able to find a scalaple in Noida . This person probably had belonged to the news channel flashing the information on the murder weapon.The media immediately retracted from all the statements it had made up till now .So all the information like -

Dr. Talwar wasn't the real father.....

Dr. Durrani arrested along with Dr. Nupur.........

Murder weapon being found........etc were back tracked on. With the new theory in place all the channels now wanted to prove the truth in what the police was saying. After all it was the IG of the state police.

News Flash- Aarushi was seen in a compromising position with Hem raj when Dr. Talwar saw them and in a fit of rage he murdered them. ( I wondered if I was deaf or had misunderstood the IG police. All he had said was Aarushi was close to Hem raj , which her father didn't like.) Fondness with somebody does not mean that a person was involved physically. The kind of sketches the channel showed brought a bad taste in my mouth. I ordered my remote again to take me , where there was some sanity.

The remote followed my instruction but took me to a even weirder channel. There was a video going on with the reporter telling us that the girl in the picture and the one in the video are the same. I thought it was some home video shot by her parents , and the channel was showing it ,in remembrance of Aarushi. I stared at both the pics. They didn't look the same. The girl in the video was no way Aarushi. I had seen enough of her till now. The video began . The girl was changing and the reported with urgency in his voice was trying to convince the audience , it was indeed Aarushi. The video became still , when she started unbuttoning her shirt. Damn these reporters , I thought. “Hem raj was blackmailing the family because he had this video. This was found on Hem raj's mobile that the police had found earlier during the day”. The reporter claimed. Damn Damn Damn. I was shocked . To what extent media can go to get some eye balls. They hadn't even bothered to listen, to what the IG had said. He had mentioned that no phones or weapons had been found yet. The idiots ( I would like to use the “F” word here.) had got a sleazy video from some sick mentality person ( who must be also a reporter) and were defaming a fourteen year old girl with out even checking on the facts.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Not only they had not understood what the IG had said, but were going to full extent to prove , what the police had said. No stone was to be left unturned. I coaxed my remote to take me to Cartoon Network. Watching Tom and Jerry made more sense then watching a fourteen year girl's chastity being abused by these news hounds.

Half an hour later , I was back . The channels were repeating the same old news showing old videos of Dr. Talwar crying , with the news reader making taunts on his actions. His tears are called crocodile tears and his actions a cover up. I switched the Television off.

Day 2-

I switched on my television to find Dr. Nupur sitting in one of the Studios. She looked sad at the turn of the events. Dr. Talwar is in custody . Dr. Durrani has denied all the allegations and its Aarushi's birthday today. May god bless your soul. The media is still trying to find the killer , only now they are trying to prove Dr. Talwar's innocence . Is it a birthday gift for Aarushi. The family driver has spoken up. He says, he kept the mattress on the roof and the police had asked him to wash the room. The driver might had said all this a couple of days back, even yesterday .The media was too busy, proving then , that Dr. Talwar was the monster , who had killed his daughter. Titles like “Killer Papa and and My father My killer .” have been replaced with “ Is Dr. Talwar innocent.” Damn these news channels. Can't even get the right person. Two different channels are showing two different people as drivers of the Talwar family. What a circus.

It does not matter whether Dr. Talwar killed his daughter or not , anymore. The harm has already been done. In this world of fast food news , while the media pressurized the police to nab the killer , they forgot that the crime scene evidence should not be disturbed. Hoards of reporters were seen roaming around the roof ,the day , body of Hem raj was found. If the police had missed out the killer, when they found Aarushi's body , they would never be able to do so because the media now , surely wanted to find the killer themselves. After all the police had failed to find Hem raj corpse on day one. They forgot that they had also been around for the last two days there , but had failed to be Sherlock Holmes themselves. It was a retired police officer who saw the blood stains and later found the body on the terrace.

Today media has become such a force , that they think they can do anything. A team of ten or twelve policemen on the crime scene couldn't have possibly stopped fifty or sixty of these so called investigative reporters , from barging on the roof ,taking pictures and in the bargain destroying evidence. Didn't they realize that they were destroying the very evidence , that could have helped the police nab the killer. When the police didn't find any evidence , they worked on circumstantial evidence and found Dr. Talwar guilty. The media rejoiced , and then the victim's mother and Dr. Durrani spoke to the same media, the media booed the police. Every thing that the media had proved yesterday by showing videos and having interviews with experts is again being backtracked . Now the police is the victim. They want to prove everything the police said is wrong. Interviews with drivers , maids and neighbors are been conducted on a war basis. “What kind a man was Dr. Talwar .” Question like these are being asked to every one who might have come in contact with him during his entire life. It does not matter if the person say , he met him for just two minutes. “But you can still tell us what kind a man was he” . All in the quest of grabbing a few measly points on the TRP rating game.

It won't be surprising that tomorrow some thing new will happen ( Noida being prone to criminal activities.), or some Two year kid will fall in to a ditch , and the same media will rush to the crime scene to destroy evidence and pressurize police to either save or catch the criminal. Things will slowly go back to normal in the L-35 sector of Noida. A small news clip will one day ,tell us if Dr. Talwar was convicted or released , with a picture of Aarushi. We will either rejoice or feel sad about the judgment.

Life will go back to normal for us . The only two people , who will face it for the rest of their lives will be Dr. Talwar and his Wife. After all, haven't we all seen it before. When D-5 ,Nithari in Noida had made it into the lime light, one morning and had kept the nation glued for a couple of days to their TV sets. Nobody still knows whether the Sikh ( I forget his name) owner of the house , was actually involved in the killings or not. It was the media that proved him guilty and the police just followed them.

Note- I haven't named any TV channels here , because I am not trying to prove the inefficiency of any one particular channel here. I am speaking about the incompetency and Coldness of the entire media when treating a death. For them I believe Aarushi has just become a means to get more eyeballs which in turn equates in to a better advertisement revenue. After all Indians love emotions , the better you play on them ,the better attention you get.

Aarushi murder case -A media circus-2

2008-05-26T02:14:00.001-07:00

Somebody must educate the Indian police with a lot of things. This was the messiest investigation I ever saw on television. I blame the media badgering to a large extent. It put too much pressure on the police and the limelight was disturbing to say the least. It was disturbing to me as a viewer to have to see the same thing over and over and again and again and that too the first thing in the headlines as if this was the only thing happening in the country. I can well imagine how it must’ve been more than a bit of harassment for the Noida police to have the media around them like a potential noose that can turn into a knot any instant. Having said that, the police were at their unethical best as usual.
Do the Noida police or whoever has been doing these investigations know the definition of “honor killing”? Honor killing is a very patriarchal convention committed usually against a woman - a wife, daughter or a sister in highly charged social contexts like in a village or tribe for example where you’ve to show that you’re a man by murdering the person that violated your honor. You may have strong personal feelings of love for your wife, daughter or sister but you won’t let that come in the way of your honor which is connected to the group you belong to. That’s what it means.
In the case of Arushi’s murder there is no “honor” involved. She is just too damn young and there is no lover or boyfriend and no social context here. The police theory about the father’s affair and the daughter knowing it and the closeness with the servant and the father being upset – it sounds embarrassing close to a C-grade Bollywood movie that probably bankrupted the director and producer and left the actors without any work for the rest of their lives. Assuming the police are right, the motive is jealousy or intense possessiveness that drove the father into an insane rage that killed the daughter and the servant who dared to appropriate the father’s favorite possession. How does that make it a “honor killing?”
Even more unconvincing is the mother who seems non-existent in all of this drama. It’s like she is a brick or a stone or something worse – an alien from another planet bereft of any human feelings or a robot completely at the mercy of a remote control in the hands of the husband. From her interview on NDTV it did not seem that she was without any personality. But to the misogynistic police her non-existence was perfectly in tune with what they assume had happened.
In the movie “Witness for the Prosecution” based on Agatha Christie’s short story and play, Sir Wilfrid Robarts, the brilliant criminal lawyer, fighting on behalf of Leonard Vole, a criminal accused of the murder of a rich older woman, remains unconvinced with the neatness of the evidence that leads to the verdict of “not guilty”. As in art so in life. That’s the problem with the Arushi murder case. Everything is too cut and dry. Too simple and too obvious. I sincerely think the media should leave the police alone with their investigations even if it takes months or years. What in effect the media is doing is forcing the police to come up with results. As far as I can see such pressure is going to have disastrous consequences as it has already done and somebody innocent might have to pay a bitter price for it. In this case it could be the grief-stricken father of the child. The police have not only killed his honor and said terrible things about the child but might end up doing worse which is to send the man to prison or the gallows without really having discovered the truth.
Listening to the police was torture. Unscientific and sloppy apart, the arrogance was stunning. It looks like they were the invisible spectators to the murder who suddenly decided to become visible. With their limited evidence the police indulged in speculation that even Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes would not dare embark upon. One thing a serious cop or detective would never do is assume or arrive at conclusions based on assumptions. Assumptions produce more assumptions but not necessarily the truth. The police made enough assumptions in this case to make all the episodes of a flop TV series. Far from honor the murder has all the ingredients of revenge killing. “Revenge is a kind of wild justice” says Francis Bacon. In my view as an avid reader of detective novels such cold-bloodedness with which the servant and the young girl were murdered is possible where revenge is the motive. The role of the servant is far from minimal though what the police were insinuating about something going on between the young girl and the middle-aged man is rubbish. This is assumption and speculation.
What is terrible is that the tragedy of the double murder of the young girl and the servant is for sale. That’s what is terrible. Sex and lies appeal to basic instincts of viewers. The media and the police are part of this sale. This is how it is with the American media. Everything is an event and nothing is beyond sale. I was a student in 1995 during the O.J. Simpson murder trial. I’ve never seen anything sicker in my life. Just that people don’t matter as human beings. In a deeply racist nation even the truth is black and white. The worst part is the indoctrinated viewer – the average American – gorging media lies as if it were the absolute truth. If there are countless other reasons why I would never live in the United States the media is definitely one of them. That’s the direction we seem to be going these days

The Ghost of Chaura Gaon

2008-05-20T04:34:00.000-07:00

It was a cold dark winter night , Raju had been paddling his Avon cycle furiously on the mud path that led to his village. Although the weather was chilly , he was sweating partially because of the exercise and partially because of fear. The mud path that led to the village ,only a couple of nights before, had claimed its twenty first victim. The man had died under mysterious circumstances, his body found in a shocked state. His eyes were open with fear and it was rumored that this path was haunted.

Raju who was twenty years of age ,was a strong man, and did not believe in ghosts. He used to take the same path every day , morning and evening to go to the city where he delivered milk and later worked at a dairy on monthly wages. He was married ,when he was sixteen and the village priest had predicted , that he may face mortal danger at the age of twenty. Raju's mother who was a pious lady had paid the pundit 200 Rs to perform a puja for Raju's safety.

With time ,every body forgot ,what the soothsayer had said except for his wife. Every day she would pray for his safety, as his journey to the city was fraught with danger. First it was the highway with trucks carelessly meandering , and then it was the wild animals who often found their way in to the village ,from the adjoining wild life sanctuary. Now it was the path. Ever since mysterious deaths had started to occur , people had been very afraid and even the bada sahib , who had visited the village with the police had seemed helpless.

A police PCR was placed near the entrance of the path way, but in time ,this had been removed after the truck drivers complaint of police harassment on the highway. The press seemed to come often to the village but it was more so to question the family of the victim. “How do you feel that your father is no more.”was a question that most of the houses in the village had answered in the last one year.

Now the recurrence of the event had become so often , that media didn't seem to care anymore. What was once a front page news had become a page seven news item. It would generally read “ Another victim found in similar conditions on the chaura gaon mud path. The name of the victim is XYZ who is survived by his wife , son or daughter. The police are investigating.”

Raju felt goosebumps. The village was still a few kilometers away ,and it being a moonless night , it was becoming impossible to ride fast and keep on track. One wrong turn could lead him in to the wild life sanctuary and it would be impossible for him to find a way from there. He shivered as a drop of cold sweat ran down his spine. The villagers had established a village Patrol but they kept to the entry of the path , and their job was to stop anybody ,from venturing on to the path at night, rather than protect people on the path. At seven everybody would close shutters and run back home only to lock themselves.

People have a short memory and once no incident occurred for a short duration , they would return to the path, inevitably to find someone dead. The police would come and do the panchnama. A few investigative journalist would come and question the laxity of the police. At first , it was said there was a man eater in the vicinity, but later, when no bodies were found half eaten, the possibility was ruled out. There were quite a few theories of serial killers, ghosts and some other animal. No one was sure and the panchayat had decided , it was best to stay indoors , till it was found out who was behind the murders .

Raju was now approaching the spot where all the bodies had been found . It was a banyan tree that had been around for a couple of centuries at least. With roots hanging like snakes in the entire area , the place would look eerie even during the day. There was a grave under the tree. Although it read of a English soldier who had died of cholera in 1903 , rumor was that he was beheaded by the village ancestors when he had fallen in love with a village girl. They had tried to elope but were caught. His head was cut and hung on the banyan tree, while the girl was tied to the trunk. She had died of hunger and thirst while looking at the severed head of her british lover. The English government had however caught all the culprits and had given them a similar fate . They all were hung from the same banyan tree .The girl and her lover were buried under the tree and although the grave stone of the soldier had survived , Some body had stolen that of the girl that a smaller in size, to use as a peg to tie the cows. Raju knew the story and he knew who had stolen it . After all it was him. He had his eyes on the peg for a long time and one day he had managed to get the marble out. It had taken him a day to file of all the writing, and when his wife had asked him where he had got it from, he had coolly told her to mind her own business. It was a strange coincidence that all the murders had started to occur , the day after he had dislodged the stone.

People had been found dead in the same spot and nobody had been able to trace the cause of death. Every one had strange markings on there necks with banyan skin . Some conspiracy theorist said that it was the tree that would come alive every moonless night . Others said it was the ghost of the girl who had risen from the dead after her grave stone was stolen. She had come back to avenge the death of her lover. A strange coincidence was that all the men had been killed in a similar manner and in the same spot on a moonless night. They also had a similar height. Around six feet. Raju stood at six one.

Raju reached the spot and suddenly felt something around his neck . He was pulled off his bicycle and fell to ground . His eyes were wide open , his neck had snapped .He was dead. In the morning a passer by found his body lay spread eagled on the ground. He had rushed to the village to tell every one of Raju's demise.

A few days had passed since Raju has died. The police had come and gone. The reporters once again had flocked the village. The village pundit had performed a puja for his souls release. It was time for him to go back to the banyan tree to perform his puja. He reached the spot , and saw the root hanging once again in front of the prayer stone. He grumbled and lifted the roots to tie them to the branch that extended over the mud path. It was high enough for any passer by ,not to get entangled, and hurt himself. The trap was set. He had wanted to cut the troubling growth but couldn't as his religion didn't allow.

He sat down to pray. A passer by on the cycle ducked his head as he approached the loop. “ Pundit ji I hope the last of the victims has been claimed. I found out in the morning ,it was Raju ,who had dislodged the grave stone and now he has faced the consequences.” Pundit ji smiled and said I hope so as he looked at Rs. Five hundred that he had got to perform the puja. All he had to wait for was another moonless night.

Relationships@love

2008-05-16T10:13:00.000-07:00

“I want to go and watch the match, but things have not been in my favor. I got my exam tomorrow and its an important paper.” Romil said on the phone. Romil was twenty six years old and was engaged to be married soon to Siddhartha who was an ardent fan of the firewalls. A team playing in the Indian Paisa league.
“ Well , I would have loved you to come .It would have given us time to bond.” He answered. Siddhartha had been lately observing that Romil, who initially had shown much interest in the prospect of getting married to him had started to slowly grow away from him. They had met around four years back during one of the cricket matches held at Feroze Shah Kotla stadium in Delhi. It was their common interest in the 20-20 format that had brought them closer . Siddhartha had been writing blogs on the league and Romil was an avid reader. It was through this blogging site they had become friends and later had decided to tie the knot.

Romil who stood at five feet six inches was a beautiful girl. Although she was not a model lookalike she sure grabbed attention from passers by . It was this aspect that had made Siddhartha insecure in the beginning but later he had learned to live with the fact. Lately he had been behaving quite possessive about Romil and Romil who was very cosmopolitan, had really not liked this. She had been quick to show her resentment but Siddhartha had not really understood her. A degree from JNU and preparation for the civil services examination had kept her busy throughout the year and with the preliminary examination right around the corner she had been really busy. Siddhartha on the other hand had been following his game and writing blogs. Romil who was also working at an advertising agency had found it difficult to take out time for Siddhartha from her work schedule and now their meetings had been limited to one hour on Sundays .

Siddhartha was a handsome guy, thirty one years of age. With strong shoulders and a flat stomach ,he once had the desire to become a model but had not really succeeded in Bollywood and ultimately he moved to Delhi . Having a Diploma in Hotel management he had no option but to work for a five star hotel as a food and beverage manager. He was a suave , diplomatic person who had climbed the ladder of the Hotel hierarchy rather quickly. Although he wasn't paid as much as Romil , money had never been an issue between the two. It was an understanding that whenever they met Romil would foot the bill and Siddhartha was always happy about it since he never had enough money to pay for those extravagant dinners.

There had been times when Romil had attended parties at his hotel ,where he had been serving but they both had managed to look beyond the odd situation. Romil's parents who were both doctors in the armed forces were initially apprehensive about the match had later agreed and they were engaged to be married once Romil was free from writing the Civil services examination.

“ I know Siddhartha that lately I haven't been able to spare much time for you , but you should understand . My job is demanding and then the examinations tomorrow.” she answered.
“ I think you are just trying to avoid me. Are you having an affair ?” Siddhartha had suddenly lost his cool. He had been begging Romil to come for the last half an hour and she had not agreed.
“ How can you even say that. You know I love you .” Romil could only whisper as tears welled up in her eyes.
“ Because I have been trying to persuade you for the last half an hour . It is as if we need you to become a civil servant.” Siddhartha was spiting fire now. “ So you don't want me to join the IAS.” Romil said.
“ Look I am really angry at the moment and would rather talk to you later about this.” Siddhartha who always took a diplomatic stance , once he had no answer replied and kept the phone down.
Romil hugged her pillow and two large tears moistened her eyes. Things were different four years back. When they had first met Siddhartha was a fun loving jovial person, who had a dream in his eyes. A dream that anybody would have believed to be true . Time had taken its toll on his good looks and shear lack of money had made him insensitive. He had been treating Romil to this kind of behavior for quite some time now, but, she had only considered it to be a passing phase.

She had been wrong and Siddhartha had further lost it. He was now becoming a demon and Romil for the first time had started thinking about calling off the marriage. It wasn't that late. The cards hadn't been printed and only a few people knew of her engagement. She fell asleep with a book in her hand. Tomorrow was a big day .

Siddhartha entered the Feroze Shah Kotla stadium and took his seat in the 200 Rs circle. That was all he could afford . He was pissed off at Romil and when the security hadn't allowed him to carry the drinking water bottle inside , he had finished it in one gulp. Now he desperately was in need of going to the loo but it was out of the question. There was no place he could go and all he could do was to sit tight for the next three hours and wait for the game to end.
The game was between the Delhi Firewalls and a team from Kolkata . It was considered to be a close finish game with both the teams showing great promise at the league. However today his mind was not in the game, but was thinking about Romil. When he had first met Romil , She had just done her degree. A sweet girl, he had fallen instantly for her . They had planned a future together. He promising her the stars ,once he got that big Bollywood break. Things had changed since then and while Romil had become relatively successful, Siddhartha could never get what he wanted. This now had started to take its toll on their relationship. He was now not really sure he wanted to marry her as he knew that Romil sooner or later would make him feel like an incompetent.

He had been trying hard for quite sometime now to make Romil quit on him but her love for him had kept this relationship going. He smiled as he thought that it was just a matter of time before she realised that he had changed. A sixer had been hit and the crowds went ecstatic. He smiled as he moved in his seat to release the blood in his buttocks that had become numb sitting on the concrete make shift benches. His mind wandered back, in to the past ,when he had met Romil for the first time . They had decided to meet at the overhead walkway at ITO . He had worn a smart looking muscle shirt that showed his rippling biceps while Romil had worn a salwar kurta. He had been waiting for half an hour and looked at every girl passing by in anticipation. While he rejected the ugly ones thinking of what reasons to give if one of them turned out to be her , he had been drawing mental pictures of her ever since they had decided on this date. Exactly four years had passed and Romil had not remembered the day they had met.

He had seen her climbing the steps of the walkway and had prayed so hard to God that it had to be her , that god had listened to him and to his joy , the girl had turned out to be Romil. When Romil walked up to him and had asked “ Are you Siddhartha ?” all he could utter was “ yeah.” It was love at first sight and when Romil had mentioned that she had been watching him waiting for the last half an hour wondering if it really was him. He had admitted that it was the first time God had answered his prayers.
Once the initial euphoria of good looks had died down , they both had discovered each other and had found each other to be compassionate about common things . They both had a jest of life. She never wanted to work and looked for a loving partner and had agreed that good looking girls need to be pampered and not sent to work in some office.
They had been so busy talking that they had completely forgotten about the match and had felt the pain going their separate ways once it had ended since she lived in Rohini and he at Sarita Vihar. Siddhartha had kept a mobile phone then but the problem was she didn't have one . It was only that after reaching her home she had immediately called him up and they had spoken for hours until his phone battery had died down.

The next day they had met again and this became a routine . While Siddhartha visited various movie houses during the day in search of work , she attended college where she had enrolled for her masters in journalism. They would meet at a popular coffee shop in the evening and share their days events , after which ,Siddhartha would drop Romil at the Metro station on his bullet.

These meetings had continued until they were spotted ,one day by Romil's parents who had happened to pass that way and had followed Romil hugging Siddhartha on his bike to the Metro station. As soon as Siddhartha had parked outside the station, Romil's father had steered the car in front of them and had asked Romil to get in.
Siddhartha who had been obsessed with movies had wondered what a hero would do in such a situation .Should he say something or just let Romil go. The problem with reel life and real life is that in reel life things are understood and they end after three hours. The result of a fight is predetermined and it is the hero who gets the girl in the end. In real life anything is possible as there is no script to fall back on to. Siddhartha decided against doing anything silly for two reasons. One was that the cops were around and her father was in uniform. Secondly Romil had just winked at him and said “ See you tomorrow.”

She had met him as she had promised and told him what had happened the previous day. Romil's parents had actually been greatly impressed with his personality and had been quite happy discussing him ,until they had asked about his profession. A struggling actor was not something they had desired for their beautiful daughter. Romil had solved the equation by telling them that she was only going to get married to Siddhartha if he got a good break and besides that they were just friends. Romil's father had agreed to this and things seemed to working for the first time in their favor.

Siddhartha who had been struggling for quite sometime in desperation started to opt for extra rolls and this also spelled doom for his big movie star dreams . Nobody entertained an extra artist . The fear of loosing Romil didn't allow him to move base to Mumbai and he worked as an extra artist on a lot of projects earning a few measly thousands to keep the fires burning in his house. It was when Romil completed her Post graduation and got a job as an advertising manager for a big firm,he was able to do a few advertisements but Romil couldn't have helped him forever and it was soon discovered that he had never had the knack for acting. How ever Romil conned her parents in to believing that the so called big break was just round the the corner . Romil and Siddhartha were engaged that summer with the cricket league entering in to the third season. Romil's father was however a smart chap and had only agreed to this liaison on the condition that the wedding would take place only after a year.

This had worked against them ever since Siddhartha had started loosing what ever acting talent he had which was his rippling biceps. The inner wear advertisements that he had featured in were being dominated by the younger male models who it seemed were pumping iron round the clock.
Out of desperation he had taken up the first job that had come his was and in year had been promoted as a food and beverage manager because of his good looks and charm. He had finally discovered his real talent. It was the food service industry and not acting. The only problem was that Romil's father had not been really happy about these turn of events . He wanted to call off the wedding but when Romil intervened , he had back stepped. He now only hoped what he had told Romil's mother would come true.
“ I hope she understands that Siddhartha is not the right guy for her. He is good looking and everything but to live a good life ,you need money . He doesn't have it and neither he can ever earn so much as to provide a decent living. Our daughter is going to grow old before she even knows it.” He had said.
Another six had been hit . The innings was about to end .Firewalls had scored a decent total of 169/5 . Siddhartha was brought back in to the present .He hadn't moved since he had taken up his seat .He had not been watching the match and the last one hour had been like a beautiful dream where he was back being with the only person ,he cared for in the whole wide world.
He got up and asked a stadium attendant about the restrooms . He guided through the crowd only to find a lot of people waiting to use the facility. Since he was in no mood to wait , he walked towards the exit. He relieved himself on the stadium wall. He could only do this in India . A smile crossed his face. He wondered if he should call Romil and wish her luck for the next day but then restrained himself to sending a SMS .
He had received five missed calls by the time he reached home. Romil had been trying to reach him. He wondered if he should call her back and as his finger twiddled with the keypad ,he switched his phone off. He was still angry with her for being successful , for not remembering the day of their anniversary. For being so inconsiderate .

Romil had remembered the day and had been waiting all day to wish him. Only she wanted to know if he had remembered it . When she got the message ,she thought it was time to let go of her ego and wish him happy anniversary but he hadn't picked up the phone. Now that she was awake she picked up a book in search of some last minute preparation but her mind was elsewhere. Had he remembered.?Was he just playing hard to get after all these years ? Had he gone to watch the game alone? She wanted to talk to him. But his phone was not reachable now. She punched the keyboard of her mobile to type “sorry darling and happy anniversary.” ,but then she pressed the exit button instead of send. Her ego had once again taken over her. She picked up the guide and went through the questions . She was prepared. It was two in the morning. She walked in to the balcony .Once she had found him standing their at this ungodly hour waiting to get a glimpse. She wondered if he was there today. Two street dogs were fighting over a piece of bread and their growls were only interrupted by the shrill whistles of the colony gatekeeper. She stood there watching them till one of them gave up . The winner running away with the trophy. It was time to sleep. Tomorrow she had to get up at seven to reach the UPSC examination center . Although her father had agreed to drop her off, she had just hoped that maybe Siddhartha would pick her up .
She yawned and tried one last time to call Siddhartha up. “The number you are trying to reach is either switched off or out of coverage area.” The recorded message kept repeating itself in different languages. Romil sighed and went inside . She tried to sleep but sleep eluded her .She finally fell asleep at three in the morning.

Chapter Two

The next day came and went . Romil got up early in the morning and was ready for the big day she had been preparing for since the last one year. Although she thought of not going ,but then decided against it. Romil's father dropped her at the examination center and as expected the paper went well. Romil had found everything she had studied in the last one year had finally paid off and she was confident of getting through the written examination. When she walked out of the center she found her father waiting and although they had decided in the morning that she would manage her way back. He had showed up.
“How was the paper ?” He asked .
“ It went well .” She answered tired of stressing her brain in the quest of finding the right words for the answers. “ I wanted to discuss Siddhartha with you .” Her father said . “ What about him?”
“ You have not been lately the cheerful self that you used to be. At first I thought it was the examination stress but lately I have realised that it is something else. You can tell me Beta.” he said.
“ Its nothing Pa , Its just that he has been acting strange lately ,getting angry on small things. Where did I go wrong , I dont understand.” Romil tried to stop the tears that once again had started to flood her eyes. Her father kept quite for a long time as he drove the car .
Mr .Kumar Romil's father was a man of short stature . He wore spectacles and sported a bush mustache. He looked the part of an armed force officer but his eyes that were full of compassion gave him away. He had only one daughter and had wished the best for her. He had always stood by her decisions and when the question of marrying Siddhartha has risen, he had agreed to it against his better judgment. All he had said was “Beta, it is your decision but since I dont want you to regret it later , I wish you wait till he becomes successful.” Romil had agreed to this request but not before she had got engaged to him. This also meant that her father now had to agree to the arrangement and they had the permission to go around freely without any fear of being caught. Siddhartha's parents had been more than happy at this proposal and had agreed immediately.
“ Its because he hasn't achieved what he wanted to and now that he has comprised with the situation,he is jealous of your success. A man who has to live on his wife's income becomes depressed and thinks that she is his biggest enemy.” He said after much thought.
“ May be you are right , but Siddhartha would turn in to such kind of a person. It is impossible to think.” Romil had let go of her tears and as they rolled over her dimpled cheeks , she hugged her father who had parked the car on the side so he could talk to Romil.
“ It isn't late. We can call it off if you want. I dont want my daughter to be sad and besides in case you are selected then this problem is going to increase.” Mr . Kumar said as he consoled his daughter.
“ I want to give it one last try.” Romil said as she wiped her tears.
“Ok.” Mr. Kumar said as he put the car in the first gear .

That evening Romil tried calling Siddhartha but was greeted with the same recorded message. Maybe he is busy . She thought. At twelve in the night she finally gave up .She wondered where he was ? Her question was answered the next day when a courier arrived. It had contained a ring and a letter. It read
“ Dear Romil,
I had been thinking a lot about where our relationship is headed for. In the end I found out it was going nowhere. I will never be able to fulfill your father's wishes and may never earn as much as you do. Now that you are going to become an IAS officer. The problem between us will only become worse. I have always loved you and this decision is not easy for me but I guess it is in the best interest for both of us. I wish you all the success in life . I am sending you back the ring which you so lovingly selected for me. You can keep the ring , I gave you as a remembrance of all the times we had together. I have already told my parents that I am not going to marry you now but work on my career. Maybe someday I will become successful but then I know you won't be there waiting for me. I don't want you to keep on waiting for me ,so please go ahead and marry someone who can take good care of you.
Goodbye.
Love
Siddhartha
Ps- I am Sorry for everything.”

Romil read the letter once and then she read it twice. It was inevitable and she had seen it coming . She had tried so hard not to believe it but knew within her heart ,it had to happen. The way things were going between them it was a matter of time before she would have written a similar letter to him. In a way she felt relieved .This relationship was taking its toll on her mental health . She required it for her final Interview. She read the letter again and then kept it with all the other gifts and letters that Siddhartha had given her. They were not precious but to her they were important. She locked the box and pushed it beneath her bed. Tears had once again filled her eyes but these were tears of relief. She was finally out of the relationship that was causing her so much pain.
A few months went by and Romil got busy with her studies. If the preliminary examination was a cake walk for her , the Mains paper to her was even simpler. Romil topped the IAS and was given the branch of her choice. Romil joined the IFS or the Indian Foreign Services.
While there were celebrations in Romil's house ,Siddhartha read the news of her selection in a local newspaper. He was happy .He took out his phone to call her. To congratulate her but then he decided against it. What was he going to say? Would she think that now she had become successful , he wanted her back. He kept the phone back.
Romil was soon to join the training academy and after the initial euphoria and phone calls of well wishers died down, she collapsed on her bed. All that she had wanted in life was to get married to Siddhartha . She had often prayed to God to fulfill her desire. To make Siddhartha a successful man and instead God had bestowed her with all that . Romil took out her phone and searched for his number. Her fingers rested on the connect button. “ Should I call him and tell him.” She thought. Then she decided against it . “ He is only going to think I am making him jealous.” Her phone rang . She wondered if it was Siddhartha. It was her Maternal grand mother.
“ Mubarak ho, You have done the family proud.” She heard the shrill voice of her grand ma.
“ Thanks Nani , Its all because of your blessings.” Romil answered.
Her Nani kept on talking about her for the next half an hour which had included the topic of her marriage and all she had said was “ I 'll see.” “ Its too early.” “ I got to go next month.” Small interjections to complete the conversation.

Romil kept the phone down. She wasn't feeling very happy . Something was amiss. It had almost been eight months since her engagement with Siddhartha was broken off and although she had faced it bravely ,she often wondered what went wrong. She would often take out the letter that had accompanied the ring but could never bring herself to accept the fact that the letter was real and he was not coming back. Romil took a train to join the Lal Bahadur Shastri Academy to train for the IFS,her eyes searching the platform for Siddhartha.

Siddhartha kick started his bullet and after wading through the traffic reached home. He had been thinking about his relationship all this time . He missed having an accident a couple of times as his mind was stuck on Romil. What should I do? How do I end this problem? Were questions ,that were screwing his brain. He had left the match in between and switched off his mobile after seeing the five missed calls from Romil. He knew that he was never going to make it big and if Romil was to become a civil servant , he would hate her whole of her life ,for being more successful. It wasn't that he was jealous in the beginning but time and shattered dreams had made him the way he was.
He switched on the fourteen inch television in his room and saw the score. Firewalls were on their way to victory. A comfortable win. He sat on his desk and took out a pen and paper. “I should say sorry to her in the old fashioned way.” he thought. He started to write and in the end he had called off the engagement. He read the letter . He felt light . He took off the ring. He felt lighter. He put the ring and the letter in an envelop and sealed it.
That night he couldn't sleep and wondered if he should change his mind if Romil even sent one message saying sorry or if she remembered their anniversary. He had forgotten completely that his phone was switched off.
The next morning he got up only to find that he had switched it off the previous night. “Maybe she sent a message.” He quickly switched on his mobile phone. No messages. Siddhartha suddenly lost his temper . He wore his track suit pants and rode out to the courier service company.

The next day he changed his mobile number. He was afraid that Romil was definitely going to ask him why he had broken up with her. To his surprise she didn't call him.
“I was right , she's one egoistic girl. Go to hell , I dont care.” He thought.
He quit his job and changed his residence for the fear of being traced by Romil , however in the back of his mind he thought that maybe he should leave something for her to trace. What if she comes looking for him. Big boys dont cry and here he was ,tears rolling from his eyes as he packed his bags to move to Mumbai. It was time to pursue a dream. Maybe he would get the success there that had eluded him for so long.

Siddhartha saw a familiar face across the platform. It was Mr. Kumar. This could mean that Romil might be there too. He saw her boarding the train to Dehradun. Romil was still as good looking as she always was. Only something was missing . There was a sadness around her. Her eyes seemed to search for someone. Could she be looking for him. He wondered. It was impossible for her to see him sitting in that second class coupe and it was just sheer luck that he had spotted Mr. Kumar. He had read about her selection and it was then he had decided that he should give his dream one last try. As the train slowly moved away from the platform , Siddhartha knew that he was never going to see Romil again. Tears started to roll out of his eyes. It was too late for him to change anything that had conspired. He closed his eyes and went to sleep as soon as the train gathered speed.

Chapter Three
Siddhartha got down from the bus .It had been raining since evening and the road from Mumbai to Goa was a disaster . With torrential rains having caused havoc on the road, It was an extremely bumpy ride.The bus now ,had halted midway somewhere at a shady roadside restaurant,which had no idea what a dinner menu should look like.
The only dishes on the menu were some oil soaked Pakoras. He bought a plate and immediately regreted it as they were tasteless and looked as if they had been warming the shelf for a couple of days. It wasn't that Siddhartha was taking this trip for the first time. He had been to goa before but this time it was different. Till now it had been only drinking trips. With cheap liquor being served at every hotel , it was a drunkards paradise . It was different this time. He was moving to Goa bag and baggage. He had just secured a job with a buiding group run by his old employer and after a brief stint of unemployment was happy to finally secure a job.

It was raining heavily and since visibilty was extremely low ,the bus had snailed to the half way mark in nearly twelve hours. This had left cramps in his feet and all he wanted now was to reach Goa and hit the bed. Being off season however had its advantages. He had got the ticket cheap ( at half price) and wasn't worried about rfinding accomodation. Firstly because he was promised one as part of his package and secondaly even if he had to stay in a hotel , they were cheap during this season.

He looked at his fellow travellers. They all were middle aged goan who were mainly in to some kind of buisness that took them to Mumbai in this ungodly season. His love affair had failed and hs decision to leave his previous job had left him with no money . All he looked forward was to work very hard and become an eligible match for Romil.

He remebered the journey he had made from Delhi to Mumbai a couple of years back and had seen Romil on the platform. Did she get married or was she still single. He wondered.
“Can I have a light” he was brought back in to the present. “Yeah , sure” He answered as he flicked open his Zippo . A lighter that Romil had gifted him a few years back when they were very much together.
“Thanks” the intruder said .Siddhartha not wanting to start a conversation moved away as he tried to eat another pakora. It was an effort to slide those down his throat and he wondered if he should throw the pakoras away. The bus driver seemed to be in no hurry to carry on with the journey as the rains started to come down even heavier. He disposed of the plate and lit a cigerette. A dog immediately appeared from now where and started devouring the rain soaked Pakoras.As the acrid smoke filled his lungs , he concluded that Romil must have married by now and gave a sigh.

Romil had been staring out of the window for quite some time . Professionally successful she had always wondered what happened to Siddhartha. Where was he now. Did he get married or was he still moving around in search of his dreams. She did not knew but she had often wished that may be one day he would come back. Only now it was too late. She had been married for a year and although her husband was a caring man, had mostly been away since he belonged to a different cadre and was posted in a different state. The only time they met was during holidays, which were mostly spent discussing state politics rather then family matters. She had agreed to this match after much pursuasion from her father and had immediately regreted her decision. What if Siddhartha came back in to her life. What was she going to do then.
“ Madam , coffee.” Ram singh her orderly had brought in a steaming cup of coffee. “thank you” She said absentmindedly. “ Sahib called up. You were in a meeting and he asked me to give you the message to call him back.” He said as he bowed down a little. He had come to like his lady boss because of her sheer mannerism. Most of his previous employers didn't even acknoledge his presence.
“ Ok , get me the phone.” She said and then realising that it was lying next to her picked it up. She dialled Siddhartha's number and then realising her mistake dialled Sandeep's number.It wasn't the first time she had made this mistake. She had often done it purposely and once when somebody had picked it up , she had realised that his number had long been changed. It was just for sheer memory reasons that she had still kept the number although she didn't try it so often.
“ Hello, darling I am coming this weekend. Hope you are free.” Sandeep was on the line. “ Yes” she answered . “Well its done then , I will be reaching by the nine o clock train. Send the car.” He said in a cheerful voice. Sandeep was a strongly built man. An IPS officer by profession, he looked smart in uniform. The naxal area that he was posted in was dangerous but ever since he had joined , crime rate had come down drastically. This meant that he had made a few enemies but then it was all a part of his job.

The bus had started to move and with the rains stopped , the driver was in a hurry to cover up for the lost time. This meant the ride got even bumpier and Siddhartha had to hold on to his seat tight ,so that he was not thrown of the seat in to the passage way. It was only after a few of the passenger objected ,that the bus driver slowed the bus down.
“ I didn't think that the league matches will become so popular.” The person siting next to him said. Siddhartha was taken aback. It was the same person who had asked for light and there was no way he could avoid talking to him this time. Till now he had pretended to be asleep but the bumps on the road now made even acting an impossible task.
“Yes, I remember the first season. I was a big fan then of the Delhi Firewalls. Haven't been following the game since.” He thought that this would bring this conversation to an end but his fellow passenger was in no mood to let him go. “Yeah , the first season was great, there was an interest then . Now the only thing people are inerested in is knowing the score and who won. It was also the season of most Controversies. It was a classic masala for a bolly wood film.By the way , I am Victor Dsouza.” “Hello, I am Siddhartha.” He answered . Victor was a man in his forties and with tanned skin , smelled of fish curry and rice. He wore thick specs and with I Love Goa printed on his t-shirt looked like a tourist. His smoked stained teeth indicated that he was heavy in to smoking but went along well with his personality. Victor must have been a handsome man in his youth but his balding head and pot belly now made him look atleast ten year over age.
“ So going to Goa for the first time” He inquired. “ No , have been there before, this time I am moving there for work.” Shelving out this information ,Siddhartha immediately regreted it . Local goans have a habit of asking too many questions. Victor kept on asking him questions and when he had come to know that Siddhartha was going for a construction company , he had given him a long lecture on how these companies from out side were coming in to Goa and spoiling the eco-system. Siddhartha once had to agree with what Victor said. He had felt the same way but then it was important to earn money then care for the fragile eco- system that Victor had been talking about.

“ The bus it seems wont reach today” He said trying desperately to change the topic. He had been feeling quite guilty for telling Victor about his job and wondered why Victor was so deadly against it. After all the more people who settle in Goa meant a better economy.
“ Oh , it will . You know my brother god a princely sum for his land near Vagator and I have a land on the opposite side of the road. The builder s making a multistoried building there and now the view of the sea is blocked. This had brought the cost of land to an all time low” Victor said. So this was the reason why he was annoyed.Siddhartha thought.
“ Maybe you should make a hotel there , all the residents of that building need to eat anyways.” He suggested. “ I have a hotel there , but eversince the construction started ,nobody seems to come in because of all the dust. Last two seasons have really been bad.” Victor said in a sad tone.
Siddhartha now understood the economics of money. While somebody who had sold his land was having a lavish life, here was a man who was trying to make a decent living through hard work but wasn't being paid for it. He felt sad for Victor and then he thought he needed a place to stay as his accomodation wasn't ready yet. “ Do you have rooms.” He asked “Yeah” “I will be needing one on my arrival and I am going to stay for long , so if you are interested I can take one of the rooms ononly that I will be paying you after a month , when the salary comes.” Victor looked at him. He knew that finding guests for his rest house in this season was impossible and it would be a stupid decision to let Siddhartha go . There were five hundred rest houses on that strech, each one empty and looking for customers.
“ How much do you charge.” Siddhartha asked. “ I will give it to you for hundred rupees a day.” Victor said and the deal was struck.
The bus now entered Panjim and and Victor and Siddhartha took a cab to Jasota Inn. It had stopped raining and the sun was out, but snce Siddhartha had a lot of luggage he had prefered a taxi and Victor had accompanied him. The room had a damp smell,it being locked for almost one season now. Atleast there was no water leakage from the roof unlike his house in Mumbai where rains meant water seaping from the roof all the time.
Siddhartha being extremely tired fell to sleep as soon as Victor changed the bedsheets. He had to go and meet his bosses tommorow but that could wait now. He felt lonely and dreamt that he had become a big movie star , had married Romil and was a happy Successful man.

Siddhartha joined his new company the very next day. The construction was in the initial stage. Since it was raining heavily in Goa , the only work he was to care of, was administration. This meant he had to get licenses done. Get telephones in order. Get the old make shift house on the construction site deem fit to operate as a office ,while the construction was in progress. He hated it all but had no where to go. He could take his time to settle down, with bosses coming once a week and money handed over for expenses, It was an ideal situation to explore Goa.

Siddhartha got a motorbike from the company ,as his job had involved running around the city from office to office. Initially he felt reluctant ,as he did not have a license ,but then ,he soon realized ,that in Goa the only people who got caught were the tourists. He felt confident .Wearing a helmet was his license proving that he was one of the local fish.

Victor who initially tried to be friendly , now was busy with his other business which was of exporting local goan handicrafts. This took him to Mumbai fortnightly and Siddhartha would be left alone with Mrs. Dsouza who didn't seem to acknowledge his presence and would go around the Inn in her night garments. At first Siddhartha had felt odd about this but then he had realized that in Goa nobody cared. You could go about in your underpants if you wished to, although conservatives would eye you with disgust.
Every day Siddhartha would reach office at around 9.30 am ,where he would be alloted work by the project manager. Be it going to a licensing office or getting material for the repair of the old house. It was a boring job and Siddhartha used to wait for 5.30 pm to strike, so he could get out . He now had ample amount of time to think over his life. He would often sit in the balcony of Jasota Inn with a couple of beers and stare in to oblivion . At 8.30 Pm he would walk in to a local vegetarian food joint and order food. It was a daily affair for him.
Two months had passed and things had been routine. The first phase of the construction work had started. The construction site that was situated out of town ,near a jungle was surrounded by a village called Goa Velha. The people of Goa Velha were a suspicious lot and the land where the construction was happening had once belonged to a notorious mafia from Mumbai.
The situation was alike both in the government offices and local community centers from where Siddhartha had to seek permission for various licenses. The people of Goa Velha looked at all the development as an invasion of there privacy and with construction machines working over time , what once used to be a peaceful neighborhood had now turned in to a circus. With land filling taking place round the clock, trucks of different shapes and sizes would inevitably get stuck in the swamp and cranes had to be called at all odd hours to get them out.
Life was now dirt and grit for him. He was working hard and after a brief stint in the hotel industry , was now able to understand Greek , that construction workers spoke. Initially he had to take one of the workers along with him just to get the right material. It was surprising how quickly, he understood the whole business and had soon become in disposable for the organization for his communication skills with various departments.
He had always been diplomatic and now he was enjoying himself. Be it bribing an official or getting a favor done for him. He knew it all. It was midday when a labor came running to him. “Sahib there is a body in a gunny bag lying in the field.” he said as he panted for breadth.
“ A body in a gunny bag.” Siddhartha repeated . This discovery meant that all the work would have to be stopped until the police investigations were over. “It is a little new born, Since it is rotten, it looks like somebody threw it on purpose.” The labor was getting hysterical. “ How do you know it is a kid” Siddhartha asked . “ Sir, it is smelling badly and I opened the bag only a little to see what looked like hand.”
The area of the construction site was big , and it took him a while to reach the spot. He broke a stick from a tree, while the labor stood at a little distance. Since it being a Sunday, most of the labor was off and nobody else knew about it. He lifted the opening of the bag. An unholy smell of decay and disgust filled his nostrils. He lifted it enough to see what was inside. Maggots swarming feeding on the flesh of the new born , almost made him puke. He let go of the opening.
“ Its a dead cat, somebody killed it and threw it over here.” He tried to sound convincing.
“But sahib.” “Do little babies have fur , you idiot.” Siddhartha interrupted , what the laborer was about to say. “ Pick it up and dispose it in the swamp.” He ordered.
“Ok, Sahib.” The laborer picked it up and Siddhartha followed . He prayed for the dead baby and wondered if he was doing the right thing. Nobody wanted the kid . When he was alive and now that he was dead. He offered a short prayer for the kid as the swamp swallowed the body.
“Here , this is for you.” He took out a fifty rupee note and gave it to the laborer, who looked at him with pleasingly. “ I am not going to tell anybody sahib.” Siddhartha marked the spot in case he needed to call the police someday. Little did he knew that this event would one day play to his advantage. The security guard was now briefed about the cat and was told not to tell anybody about it. He was reasoned that a scene would be created and his job may fell in to jeopardy if the villagers got a whiff of the story.
Siddhartha's bosses however were pleased at the way he had handled the whole situation and was given a cash reward. Siddhartha had done this only too often ,to understand ,that this was a bribe to keep his mouth shut. He had intended to do so till the right time but had not said no to the reward. He had needed the money and now it was on its way .

That night as he sat in the balcony with a beer in his hand , he started thinking of the days events. Who had murdered the baby and thrown it over the wall . Was it a mistake that had occurred out of a wedlock. The people of Goa Velha were not as simple as they looked. He needed to be careful because who ever had done this surely had known that the body will be discovered and had counted on this. He had been right in thinking that Siddhartha would get rid of the body. Too much was at stake to let the work suffer even for a day. What the person hadn't counted on was that Siddhartha knew who the girl was , after all he had often seen her standing in the window watching cranes lift trucks out of the muck.
The next few days went without any incident. The work progressed slowly but then , there were buildings being made and not small houses . It takes time to get such things constructed. They are not made in a day. Siddhartha kept to himself . The decaying face of the baby had haunted him in his dreams. He hadn't seen the girl ever since the baby was discovered. Probably she had died during the child birth, her body disposed off separately.

Siddhartha sat in his office and wondered what ,if he thought was true. It was time to investigate, but he had to make sure no body knew of his intentions. He devised a plan and was surprised of his cunningness. He called upon Peter , the local boy , a native of Goa Velha , he had helped Siddhartha getting permission from the village panchayat.

“Come in Peter.” Siddhartha said as he heard the knock. Peter was a young boy of twenty , out of a engineering college. He had a diploma for civil engineering and was quick in his job. He could speak Konkani and was appointed as a supervisor at the construction site. His job was to basically over see that all the work was done according to plan and all the Labor was giving a productive output.

He stayed in the village and had joined on the request of the village head. Initially Siddhartha had been apprehensive in appointing Peter as he could be a spy for the village. After consultation with his bosses however , he had decided that it would be a good idea to earn the faith of the local community ,if they wanted the work to progress without unwanted delays. Since Peter had joined ,problems like cut wires , missing cement and bricks had subsided and Peter had not only proven, that he knew his job well ,but also had helped Siddhartha in gaining a couple of important licenses, from the local authorities ,which had been proving extremely tough to get.

“ You wanted to see me sir.” “Yes Peter , I want you to go to that house and ask the lady of the house , if everything is all right. I understand she had a problem a couple of days back regarding one of the trucks knocking down her fence.” He said.

“ Well, if she has a problem , she can come here and talk. Nobody in the village is allowed to talk to her.” Peter said with a worried expression. “And why is that.” Siddhartha asked. He knew about it as he had never seen her joining any of the protests he had initially faced , when the construction had started.

Maria Joseph lived alone with her daughter.

“ Well, you must have observed , her daughter was pregnant , and she ain't married. When the village panchayat came to know of this , they decided that it was in the best interest to boycott the family.” Peter said. Siddhartha observed that Peter had used “was” instead of “is”. This meant he knew something.

“Was !!!” Peter suddenly realized he had blurted out too much. “Well , she gave birth to a still born a couple of days ago. She died in the process of child birth , since no village women would go to her house to help Maria's daughter deliver the baby.” Peter said looking in to the oblivion.

“What about taking the girl to hospital, I an sure her mother could have done that.” Siddhartha felt sad for her. “ Sir, in our village a boycotted family ,is devoid of all the rights and these include going to the hospital, I am sure if she had tried to take her , she would have been killed on the way , with her daughter. The only chance of survival for her was to take her chances here.” Peter said.

“ I thought Goa was a open minded community. How can people behave in such a manner. I wonder what the police would like to say about this.” Siddhartha was feeling angry now. Somebody had died and nobody seemed to care . He got up to go ,but Peter stopped him.

“ You dont want to do it, trust me.” He said with a chill in his voice. Siddhartha felt goose bumps . Peter was more then what he appeared to be and was surely an orthodox believer of his community rules.

“And why is that.” Siddhartha tried to put on a brave front. He had felt goose bumps on the back of his neck . “ Because if you try to do anything stupid , people here are not going to let you work here , and that is just the beginning of your troubles. They will make you disappear in a jiffy.” Peter said. He knew Siddhartha was afraid now and was enjoying this. He could now make Siddhartha do anything he wanted including , getting jobs for his friends. Siddhartha understood what was going on in Peter's mind. He had to handle the situation tactfully . He had been thinking emotionally and now was not the time to do that.

“ I have no intention of going anywhere, all I wanted to know was that Mrs. Joseph is not facing any trouble because of us. Our company policy does not believe in causing the local community problems .” He said. “ In that case , there is no harm done , and I am sure you will keep in mind what I told you.”Peter said . Siddhartha knew Peter was a spy now and although he was doing his job sincerely , he was also performing this job with equal sincerity. He wondered if Peter knew of the dead baby , being disposed on the property. He had to be careful. A dead cat was trying to get out of the bag now, and he had to be careful, what he said next.

“You can go back to work and let me know when the cement truck arrives. Who cares for an old lady , now that you have told me her story and the consequences that one might have to face.” He said in a assuring tone . Peter looked convinced as he walked out of his office. Siddhartha decided he needed to be more careful in the future about what he spoke and to whom he spoke.

“He is the spy.” Siddhartha told his Boss Mr. Rajat Mohanti. Mohanti was a stout fellow with a balding head . He had made his money in the stock market and had invested the profits in a hotel. With time his hotel empire had grown to include a chain of restaurants. Since there was a construction boom in Goa , he had purchased land all over Goa and had made handsome profits selling beach front properties. Now he was making Service apartments, that would be another jewel in his shining armor.

“ I knew it from the first day, and I kept him for that reason only. This keeps the local people from looking over the wall to see what is going on inside. Also he is going to prove a great help once we have to apply for the electricity, water and other connections for the apartments.” Mohanti said with out even looking up . He was reading the weekly expense list and was wondering where to cut expenses. What had started as a couple of thousand a week , had now grown in to a few lakh of rupees a week expenditure. Mohanti , if he was under strain from all the expense, wasn't showing. All he did was to sit back lit a cigarette and sign the checks. The project manager wondering if he was or he wasn't.

“In that case I will take your leave sir.” Siddhartha said. He knew that now Mohanti was going to spend time with the project manager and he still couldn't understand structural drawing. He would inevitably get bored and did not want to yawn in front of Mohanti. It was around five. Sitting in that meeting meant , to be in office till eight. “ You may leave” Mohanti said never even once looking at him.

Siddhartha kick started his bike. He bought a couple of beers on the way . He reached the company flat at around 6.30 and kept the beer in the chiller. He had recently acquired a second hand fridge. He took the other beer in the Balcony and opened it. Pressure had built up inside the bottle. It was an art ,he had learned in college and although the beer spurted out, not a single drop fell on the ground. He congratulated himself on this feat once again . As he sipped the beer , he wondered who took care of the expenses of Mrs. Joseph and how did she dispose the body. He hadn't seen any mourners nor anybody taking the body . This could only have meant one thing. The dead girl was still in the house. He decided to go to Mrs. Maria Joseph's house that night.
Siddhartha reached Goa Velha at around nine pm in the night. The road was treacherous and after waiting for what looked like eternity, he approached Mrs. Josephs house. The light was still , Mrs. Joseph seemed awake. There was no sound coming which meant she was alone.

He knocked the door. At first nobody answered , then he heard clanging of pan in the kitchen sink. So she was in the kitchen. May be she hadn't heard him. He went around the house. With darkness to his advantage, he saw Mrs. Joseph standing by the sink cleaning the dishes. She obviously hadn't heard him or didn't want to open the door. The Kitchen door opened in to the room , by whose window Siddhartha had often seen Mrs. Joseph's daughter standing watching the trucks. He could see the corner of the bed from where he stood. Since the blinds were partially drawn , he couldn't see if there was someone on the bed. He moved a little to adjust his line of sight. A foot dangled from between the sheets. It was moving a little. The glass blinds were shut . So there was somebody in the house along with Mrs. Joseph. Why hadn't that person got up and opened the door. Was it possible that Mrs. Joseph's daughter was still alive but then why had Peter said she had died during child birth. The mystery was getting deeper. He decided to knock again.

Siddhartha was about to knock on the door, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Peter. He fingered Siddhartha to follow him slowly without making any noise. They both went to the other kitchen window. What Siddhartha saw almost made him puke. He let out a faint shrill of a cry but was unable to take his off, what he was witnessing. Mrs Joseph's Daughter was lying on the bed. She was dead alright. No human could survive if her torso had been cut apart to tear her womb out. It had been hacked by some rough edged knife and a rat was crawling near her thighs digging in to her flesh every now and then , making the dangling foot move. There was dried blood every where. A cloth covered her face so the expressions were not visible. An acrid smell was coming from the room and Mrs. Joseph , it seemed didn't mind the smell. She was talking now and then looking at the body ,as if she was still alive. Every now and then She would call the corpse Erina and Siddhartha concluded her name was that.

They had seen enough. Peter took Siddhartha to his house in the village. He didn't speak but went inside to get two pints of beer. “ this was badly needed, I can't believe my eyes.” Siddhartha said in a state of shock. Peter looked coldly at him . “ You would have been dead tonight, if I hadn't seen your bike and knew where to find you. At first when I didn't see you , I thought you were inside. I had almost rushed in to the house but then I saw you crouching by the rose shrub.”

“Why do you say that. All I had wanted to know was , that if daughter was dead , then maybe I could have helped her in the burial.” Siddhartha said.

“ Its not that simple. Do you think that the villagers don't know that Erina lies on that bed as cold as ice. Nobody has seen the open womb. The day she had died, a lot of folks had gone to bury her but Mrs. Joseph thinks Erina is still alive and she had attacked them with the same knife, she had cut open Erina's womb. She's mad and chances are she will kill anybody who tries to get in to her house.” Peter said. His eyes were welling with tears now.

“What about the police .” Siddhartha asked. “ In this village police never comes , It didn't come when the villagers agitated against the construction on your land, It won't come now.” Peter said with hatred towards authority.

Siddhartha was kind of surprised at the situation. Why would the police not come if they were informed that a poor old lady was living with a corpse. Wasn't it morally wrong in the land of churches. Where every Sunday people would flock the churches in hoards.

“ I dont understand , Why wont they come.” He repeated his question to Peter.

“ Its a long story .” “ I got all the time in the world.” He replied.

“ It all began a couple of centuries ago. Goa was under the Portuguese rule then. This land used to be marsh lands where the cruel rulers would dispose the dead. During that time there used to be a witch who would take out the entails of the dead and preserve them for making potions. She could solve any ailment ,and her medicines were mostly sought after by Portuguese merchants who would sell them in the Spanish markets. She had a daughter called Anabella. She was a beautiful girl, every liked her . She was popular with kids and used to give them candies that she used to make at home.

One day a man named Franc came to town. He was a handsome man and loved good life. He saw Anabella and they fell in love at the first sight. She got pregnant with a child of Franc. Franc who loved his philandering ways left Anabella, and for the fear of her mother disappeared. Anabella on the night of her delivery was in slithering pain and her mother did little to help her. When her crying became intolerable she had cut open her womb and and set a curse on the village . “Every girl who shall give birth out of wedlock shall suffer this fate, and those who help her or her family.” In a way she had placed the curse on herself. Nobody seemed to bother the old witch. She had cut the body of Annabella and had used her entails in her potion, thus spreading the curse from one villager to another. Soon the village was taken over by lust and girls would just get pregnant. Illegitimate relations became a norm of the day. The church predicted the end was near.

There was a priest called Joseph in the church. A man of intelligence he decided to put an end to this curse that had given birth to evil. He was a respected man in the community. He organized a prayer meeting in which every one was invited including the witch. When he spoke about the impending doom, the witch felt sorry and asked for forgiveness. The people were angry and wanted to burn the witch . Father Joseph realizing the witch was truly ashamed for what she had done, asked her what was the way out of the curse.

The witch said “ I wanted revenge and my revenge is complete, however any family that helps or keeps contact with such a girl or her family shall suffer.” She said this and died Since then people are afraid and while even lovers stay Virgin till they are married, new age contraceptive have proven to be of no use. Inside a certain region every thing fails. And this village is at the core.” Peter concluded the story.

“And you want me to believe it .” Siddhartha was dumb founded at the strange tale, ha had just heard.

After a while he spoke. “ So that is the reason police doesn't come here, for the fear of the curse, and that is the reason nobody helped Mrs. Joseph.” Suddenly it struck ! “Is Mrs. Joseph some way related to Father Joseph.” he asked Peter.

“ Yes , She is the direct and last descendant of Father Joseph. The irony is the man who saved the village , is the man who suffers the most.” Peter said.

Siddhartha was flabbergasted at this belief in superstitions. A girl had lost her life , A kid had died with his body scheduled to be disposed in the swamp. Now he understood why Mrs. Joseph had left the body in the compound . She couldn't bring herself to throw the baby in the swamp. It also meant the baby was still alive when she had left him. Probably she had killed him or he had died in the night the day it was born , kept in the house till it began to rot. Too many theories played on in his mind. He felt sad for the community , For Mrs. Joseph , for Erina and for himself. He had played a part in the whole event that had taken place. He did not wanted to work there any longer.

He took another beer and wondered what he should do next. Peter sat next to him and said nothing. He knew it was going to take time for the facts to sink in. No matter how weird or superstitious, things sounded ,they had to be accepted by Siddhartha. He should do nothing. Peter sat their for a long time looking from Siddhartha to Mrs. Joseph's house and then back to Siddhartha.

“ I should be leaving now. Guess I got the answer I was looking for.” Siddhartha got up to go . Peter stood up and said “ I am sorry but this is the way things are supposed to be.” Siddhartha kick started the bike and started back . He was turning around when he caught a hint of Mrs. Joseph in the doorway. She was dragging a coffin down the steps. She was prepared finally to cremate.

Siddhartha was confused. This event did not agree with any of the facts that had been told by Peter. Neither Mrs. Joseph looked like the killer type. If she knew her daughter was dead why would she attack people who had gone to help her. Siddhartha decided that what ever Peter had told him was false. The real story was different . He needed to hear it from the horses mouth. He was worried now , a murder that police won't investigate. A community that didn't care and Peter who had clearly warned him not to get involved. It was too late, he was involved now and he had to find the truth even if it meant danger.

----------------------------
Sandeep had arrived at the station and had found the staff car waiting for him. The PSO ( private security officer ) was waiting for him . He saluted him ,which Sandeep acknowledged with a slight flick of his head. The journey had been long and boring. The train was running a couple of hours late and he being a very punctual man wasn't very pleased with the efficiency of the railway system. He had always preferred to fly . But unavailability of flight tickets on such a short notice had left him stranded. He had thought of changing his travel plans but the PRO of the police department had assured him, he would be comfortable in the first class of the express. It had been some time he had seen Romil and was looking forward to meeting her. He knew ,that his life was going to involve this travel and yet he had married Romil. He had fallen in love with her , the first time he had seen her picture.

He had known about Siddhartha . Romil had told him everything , not because she didn't want to marry Sandeep but because she didn't want to hide anything. Sandeep had appreciated this honesty and his love had grown even deeper for her. He had tried to make sure that , this question was never brought up but now he had somehow started to realize that Romil was not able to forget Siddhartha, no matter how much he had tried.

He had brought gifts for Romil initially . Romil had never shown interest in those and when he saw that the gifts he had brought for her were lying unopened , he had felt bad and had stopped bringing anything. Romil was a mystery to him. After almost three years of marriage and no kids , he still wondered what he was doing wrong. Maybe a kid would take Romil's mind of Siddhartha , but this would involve further complications. If they were going to separate, it would be better to do so without any liabilities. There parents had already come to terms with the impending Divorce.

Mr. Kumar had met Sandeep and had said sorry. Sandeep had assured him , that he would try to bring back Romil from the past and he won't be the first one to file for the divorce. This had relieved Mr. Kumar to a great extent. Sandeep's parents however were not that understanding. They had been asking him to divorce her , the sooner the better. After all they wanted to be grandparents before they died.

The car reached the portico of the government quarters were Romil used to live. She was waiting in the verandah. They met formally in front of the staff, but then they always met his way. She was wearing a sari and was ready to go to the office. It was a half day, she had planned to come back after a few meetings. “ Hi, how are you. I got a couple of meetings scheduled for today and will be back around till three. I have already instructed Ram Singh about the food so you can relax till three. You must be tired.” She said in an official tone. Sandeep felt like his mother was giving instruction when he was ten years old. “ Ok, I will wait for you.” He said as Romil sat in the car. Ram Singh who was happy to see his sahib took the bags out of the car. He had always liked sahib and knew his memsahib was anxious to see sahib. He had often observed that memsahib would be relatively happy in the presence of sahib,but could never utter a word about this because of his status.

Sandeep had brunch and went to sleep. It was his destiny that he would always get food cooked by servants. In his father's home, a servant named Ram Singh would cook the food. The irony was here it was again a namesake , who was feeding him. He was tired and after taking a bath went to sleep.

He got up around five in the evening. Romil hadn't returned . Sandeep only knew too well that no matte how hard Romil would try to wind up the meeting, she would not be able to leave it in between. He had often faced a similar situation himself.

Romil came back at around eight in the night . She was profusely sorry and Sandeep actually didn't mind or care , why she was late. In some other house hold this could have been a major cause of a fight. They had dinner together and then went to bed. Romil was as cold as ever.

Next morning they were having tea together. It was Romil who brought up the issue , that Sandeep had been avoiding for so long.

“I want a divorce.” She had said.

“ I know.” was all he could answer. “ I think that we can't live like this forever, with you staying away for so long.” she said. “Is that the only reason or I need to know more.” Sandeep asked her.

“ No , that is the only reason.” She answered.

“ In that case, let me apply for a transfer.” Sandeep said. “ok” The issue had been put to rest for now but Sandeep knew that in time it would be brought up again. Romil last night had not responded to his kisses and while he had made love to her , she had not responded. All she had insisted on was the use of contraceptives ,which meant she was clearly not interested in having a baby. He had no idea why she had done it and now it was becoming clear to him.

Sandeep didn't talk to Romil the entire day. They watched television the whole day. A new story was developing . A mother had been caught in Goa , who had murdered her daughter and killed her new born baby. Romil switched the television off. It was time for Sandeep to leave. His food had to be packed . She instructed Ram Singh to make some aloo puris for Sandeep.

Sandeep had been thinking the whole day about what Romil had said . She was right in the sense that they couldn't live like this. Although , he had assured her that he would get a transfer ,he wasn't sure himself. He would become a different man as soon as he would reach back. An IPS officer. He left the decision on time. He cared for Romil and knew that a divorce at this stage would cause her more harm then good.

He boarded the train. He had seen the news clipping and wondered how a mother could kill her daughter. Maybe at times harsh decision are to be taken. He didn't know that , this particular piece of news was going to change his life for ever

Chapter 5
Siddhartha wondered what he should do about the whole situation. If he informed the police , it would cause only trouble both with the villagers and the administration. There was no sanity . He thought of Romil . She could help him out by calling up a few of concerned departments in Goa.

He sat in his balcony and opened a beer. It was late in the night. Probably Romil would be asleep. Hell , he didn't have her number. What was he thinking . He thought of all the officers he had come to know in Goa . Mr . Desai who was an ex – IPS could help him out. Yes he was going to call Mr. Desai. He would be able to help him out.

He dialed his number . “Mr. Desai , this is Siddhartha , remember we met regarding the electricity department.” “Yes , I remember , how can I help you .” Mr. Desai replied curtly. He wasn't very pleased to hear Siddhartha calling so late in the night. He wondered why he was calling so late in the night . Mr. Desai was a retired IPS officer and had lived in Goa all his life. He was around sixty years old and with a ramrod straight back would still depict the persona of an officer of the law. After retirement he had joined a consultancy firm as a legal adviser and would look in to matters related to the electricity department.

“Uh..., I am sorry to call you so late in the night sir but there is a problem I wanted to discuss with you .” Siddhartha said and narrated to him the whole incident . However he omitted the part where he was involved in the incident , that is , the disposal of the dead baby.

Mr Desai listened to him aptly and said “ This is a serious matter , did you inform the police.” “No sir.” Siddhartha replied and then told Mr. Desai what peter had told him. “ Thats sheer nonsense and I was in charge of that area for five years . Most probably Peter has to do something with this whole incident.” “ So what should I do now” Siddhartha asked.

“ Well inform the police , I am sure they will find Mrs. Joseph and Peter in the grave yard burying the body of the deceased.” Mr. Desai replied . His voice was now sounding urgent and had the authority of a police officer. If he would have still been in the police force, he would have immediately got dressed and gone to the crime scene. His body ached to dawn the uniform again.His desire for action made him change his mind.

“ Wait at your hotel I am coming there to pick you up.”Mr . Desai didn't want to miss any of the action. The officer in him had convinced him, that an element of danger was there ,and. who was going to believe Siddhartha. His presence would at least provide some weight to Siddhartha's statement. He got dressed and after looking in the trunk found his unused .32 bore revolver ,which hadn't seen the light of the day for many years now. Casually slipping in in to his inner coat pocket , he walked out of the house making as little noise as possible so as not to disturb his wife.

He drove his Opel to Siddhartha's house and found him waiting outside. They had to act urgently before the culprits got away. He had made to Siddhartha's house in good time, and ,was surprised to see Siddhartha waiting outside. It had taken only ten minutes for him to reach there.

“ Get in .” He commanded . Siddhartha got in to the car and on the bequest of Mr. Desai repeated the whole incident . Goa Velha was around 10 Km from Panjim and they had to pick up the police too. Mr. Desai made a hasty call. “ Hello, Desai here. Look I want you people to reach the Goa Velha grave yard as soon as possible . Make sure you got the ambulance and enough force to surround the yard. Yeah , see you there.” He kept the phone down . Siddhartha looked at him quizzically.

Mr . Desai sensing Siddhartha's questioning look said “ That was the superintendent of Police , he trained under me so I know him well.” He turned the car around and were on there way to the Goa Velha graveyard.

The duo reached the grave yard which was as silent as it should have been . The grave yard was a few centuries old and had the eeriness surrounding it . With time , what had been a majestic entrance had turned in to rubble ,banyan roots covering the gate. The iron gate was rusted and had come off the hinges . The walls of the grave yard were crumbling and it portrayed every inch of the era , it belonged to. The grave yard was not in use anymore and Mr . Desai had calculated ,that ,if a body was going to be disposed it would be here at this grave yard . His reason was simple but only a genius police officer could think of it. Firstly the body could not be carried without a proper vehicle ,none of the two culprits owned a vehicle big enough to carry it. Secondly the new grave yard at Agasim was manned by a Chowkidar who would not have allowed them to do their job in peace.

He flicked on his torch and pointed it on the ground . Fresh marks were in the soil, as if something heavy had been dragged in to the grave yard. There was no moon light and finding their way without the torchlight was a difficult task. They had to do without the torchlight ,lest the culprits would spot them and leave the business at hand, unattended.

A faint sound was coming from a distance. A grave was being dug. Mr. Desai , who was a veteran in these kind of situations made no noise and signaled Siddhartha to do the same. They cautiously approached the crime scene. They turned the corner and saw a lady sitting by an oil lamp on a grave. If they hadn't known who it was they might have mistook her for a ghost. It was Mrs. Joseph who was sobbing while Peter was busy digging a shallow grave. A casket laid near by which held the body of the dead girl.

Mr . Desai took out his .32 bore . On seeing the gun, Siddhartha took a step back. He stumbled on a grave stone and fell. The noise was enough to wake up the dead . “ Don't move , police “ Mr . Desai shouted as Peter tried to get out of the grave and Mrs. Joseph got up . Mr . Desai hurried to the spot . He made sure that Peter and Mrs. Joseph saw the gun. Peter threw down the shovel , while Mrs. Joseph broke in to a wail , making the whole environment even more ghastly. Siddhartha swore to himself and stumbled to the spot. Peter looked at him with venomous eyes . Mrs. Joseph just stood there contemplating what she should do. “ You both are under arrest.” Mr . Desai said .

“ Under what charges , you are a retired officer Mr. Desai .” Peter barked . He was angry now ,and was looking for an opportunity to get away from the crime scene. Mr. Desai was quick in answering. “ That we shall see .” He hadn't finished the sentence when a truck load of cops came running to the crime scene with 303 's hanging over there shoulders.

The arrest was quick and the body was sent for postmortem. The SP congratulated both Mr. Desai and Siddhartha for acting so bravely however he didn't mention to forget that it was foolish on their part to barge on to the culprits in such a manner .

The next day All channels flashed this very news. Coming out of a small village in Goa where a mother had killed her daughter was the hot favorite of the news channels. Mr. Desai's name was mentioned while Siddhartha was not in the picture . Maybe making a hero out of an ex- service personal made more sense. Siddhartha was also taken for questioning . It was him who had seen the body first ,when it was lying n the house . The police just had to find the motive of the murder. Siddhartha was hailed as a hero in the police department, till the time the postmortem report came . The police was now looking for the dead body of the dead baby. Only three persons knew where it was . Peter , Siddhartha and the labor who had disposed the body. The case was unsolved and Siddhartha finally thought, was it better to heed to what Peter had said in the beginning “ Stay away and you will be safe.”

It being a Sunday , Siddhartha came out of the police station and went straight to bed only to be called up by his boss. “ Where are you , did you hear the news , whats going on there , I heard you are also involved in the case . I am coming tomorrow.” The line went dead before Siddhartha could utter a word. Till now he hadn't even thought of the repercussions that were bound to occur , once the news of Peter's arrest was out . After all , he was one the employees of the company. Till now he had been feeling like a hero , but now his heart had a sinking feeling. Maybe his boss was going to fire him after all for not being able to handle a situation and getting involved in to something that would malign the reputation of the company.

However , He had a bigger worry . What if Peter opened his mouth or the labor who had disposed the body opened his mouth . Surely he would be arrested for not informing the police. He was also worried that in case ,the police did find out , they were surely going to arrest him since he was also a part of the crime and had not informed the police before hand. What was he going to tell the police. His conscience woke up a little late , when he did not see the girl , he had been eying for some time now.

He knew how the system worked . He wouldn't have been surprised if Peter used his clout in the village and cooked up some story putting the entire blame for the murder on Siddhartha.

He was getting worried now. With each passing moment he felt his heart beat grow, until he could hear it. It was time to take some action. He decided to go to Mr. Desai for help. After all , he had believed him last night . Why won't he now.

“ Mr. Desai , I wanted to meet you .” “ Definitely ,in fact I didn't get a chance to congratulate you .” Mr. Desai said. “Well , when can I meet you” Siddhartha asked. “ Come by in the evening.” Mr Desai replied and the line was disconnected.

Siddhartha was apprehensive about how Mr. Desai was going to deal with what he had to say. Was he going to get him arrested. He had to tell the truth . At least he won't have to carry the burden . The face of the dead baby had been haunting him since last night taunting him . He tried to sleep , but couldn't.

After turning around in the bed for what seemed hours , he got ready to go to Mr. Desai's house.

He kick started his bike and half an hour later was standing in front of Mr. Desai's house . The Opel was parked on the kerb. Mr . Desai was home. He rang the doorbell.

“Come on in Siddhartha , I was waiting for you.” Siddhartha could feel the warmth in Mr. Desai's voice and wondered if it would be still there after he told him , how exactly he had got involved in the firs place. “ What will you have , tea ,coffee or Feni.” Mr. Desai asked him. “Tea would be fine.” “ My boy , its time for Feni , let's celebrate.” Mr. Desai said acting the perfect host. “ I don't know how to tell you this , but I know where the body of the dead baby is. I had found it on the construction site and with the help of a labor disposed it fearing undue interference in case , I got the police involved. I am sorry for what I have done ,but then I didn't realize the matter was going to become so big.” Siddhartha said ,he felt the burden lift of his heart. His pulse becoming normal again, that had been racing against a super fast train till this time.

“ Boy, why didn't you tell them at the station.” Mr. Desai looked at him quizzically. He had a surprised expression on his face and wondered if Siddhartha was just being plain honest or was a fool . He knew that his confession would make him as guilty as the other guilty. He had often seen in the court of law how evidence were turned and while guilty were acquitted, It was the non guilty who faced the brunt.

“ I was afraid sir, the fact is that the face of the baby has been haunting me for a long time now and I am unable to sleep. It was because of him that I went to look in to Mrs. Joseph's house in the first place.” Siddhartha confessed.

Mr . Desai was rather surprised now. No one had even tried to find out what Siddhartha had been doing in the first place spying on Mrs. Joseph. He smiled . The defendant's lawyer would have had a field day with this . No matter what they would have said in the court of law ,Siddhartha would have been proven guilty. It was more then evident , while Mr. Desai would although have said , that Siddhartha informed him . The chain of events was incomplete with out the first part of the story. What was Siddhartha doing at Mrs. Joseph's house in the first place.

There was only one way to save grace now. Recover the body . The police had to do it on their own , without making Peter confess. This was the only way . As for Siddhartha being present at Mrs. Joseph's house , they had to cook up a story for that. He called the SP and told him the location of the dead baby.

The body of the baby was highly decomposed and the cloth bag that contained it was only clue that the baby had belonged to Irina. It had the initials I. J knitted on it. The labor who had disposed the body had disappeared after he had come to know of the incident.

Peter and Mrs. Joseph were charged for first degree murder. While Siddhartha felt free , the media was now flocking the village of Goa Velha moving around the construction site looking for clues. The village of Goa Velha had suddenly become famous and every one on the construction site was busy giving sound bytes to eager journalists. Even the project manager of the construction site stood commenting to one of the television crews, how he had discovered the body and had informed the police.

Siddhartha decided to stay away from the limelight. He got in to the company's Toyota Innova .His boss was arriving by 3.30 Kingfisher flight. Siddhartha knew he had to brief him of all the developments . The boss had specially asked him to be present on his arrival and Siddhartha knew the reason. He was supposed to tell him everything. Siddhartha briefed Nitin Gupta in the car , who wasn't very pleased . He seemed to be more worried about completing the project on time and did not like the press cars parked all over the construction site. He had seen the footage on television. It was time to do some damage control. After all , who would buy an apartment where dead bodies were being found. He looked at Siddhartha in displeasure , who sat in the front seat. Nitin Gupta made a mental note to fire him ,once all this was over.
Anju Aneja sat in her posh office. It had been many years since she had actually done active journalism and although she ached to get on the floor , her job profile was more on the investigative front now. A few years ago when she had joined as a news reporter for a channel called Newslink , little had she realized , that one day she would be appointed as head of the investigative team. Newslink was a trusted channel amongst its viewers and the TRP's were there to prove it. When ever there was a crime , the investigative team would go through the whole story , analyzing it . They would make sure that the channel didn't jump to conclusions as their counterparts did ,and this had earned them respect in the circle. Anju was a in her mid thirties now , and although was good looking , years of working as a crime scene reporter had taken its toll. She was not married , and had never felt the need for it. Her job had kept her so busy all these years , that when the age for marriage slipped past by her , she had hardly noticed it. A couple of affairs with office staff and she had concluded , it wasn't her cup of tea. At five foot five , She led from the front and her big break had come when she had single handedly brought to justice a corrupt police officer in Goa . He had retired last year , the inquiry still pending against him.
The irony of the situation was that, the same officer had been involved in the arrest last night. She wondered if she had been wrong about him after all.

The case file of Irina Joseph murder case was lying in front of her. At first instance it looked like a matter of honor killing . Looking deeply in to the facts , with the police convinced that the murder was committed by Irina's mother and Peter , it looked like an open and shut case , but her mind said , there was more to the whole story. She re read the file . The reporter on the crime scene and at the police station had mentioned , that somebody had been with Desai . This person had been escorted away by the police and nothing was disclosed about his identity. While Desai's face was plastered all over the news channels , she felt sick looking at him. She could hardly believe that a year ago , she had found out how Desai had made a name in the police department . He had killed quite a number of innocent people in the name of encountering drug mafia. She had collected evidence against him and before she could actually take any action, Desai had retired.

The police and the government had not taken her seriously and while they had set up an inquiry against the man, no one really followed the case. She busy with her job and the media loosing interest once there was another sensational news to broad cast. How ever this time Desai had emerged a hero. He had taken all the credit for the arrest but had failed to explain, who the person with him was or how he had got the information , that a body was being disposed in the grave yard. Why was he carrying the .32 bore revolver and how he had known where the body of the dead baby was.

The report said that , “ Mr . Desai was driving to Agasim for some personnel work , when he had seen a light in the grave yard. Since it was a moon less night , he became curious . At first he thought , he had seen ghost. His officer instincts however too the better of him and had decided to investigate. He had turned the car around and thinking what somebody might be doing in a grave yard at this hour made him suspicious. At first he thought , it might be some grave robbers but when he reached the crime scene , he had caught Peter and Mrs. Joseph red handed disposing the body. He had called the police and was hailed as a hero.” Nowhere in the report was a mention of the other person, however three person had been taken away from the crime scene besides Mr. Desai. Anju sat there for a long time. There were lot of loop holes in the theory. She could not go to Desai and ask him questions. Mrs. Joseph and Peter has been arrested by the police. There was no way for her to find out who this person was . All the channels had already made this very news as “ Breaking news” and her bosses wanted her to come up with something that would make their story different from the other channels. It was also an opportunity for her to bring in the picture , the old pending case against Desai. How she wanted to get Desai punished.
She picked up the phone and dialed a number. It was her informer in the police Department. “ Hello , Anju here.” She said. “ Yes madam, how are you , what can I do for you.” the informer answered.
“ I wanted to know about the Joseph case , there were three persons present at the crime scene besides Desai, who was this person.” She asked.
“ You got the wrong information madam. Mr. Desai was alone at the crime scene.”
“But a fourth person was there , who was initially mentioned by the police and later they retracted from their statement.” She felt frustrated . May be there was no fourth person. Her sixth sense however told her there was indeed a fourth person and the reporter at the crime scene and seen some one being taken away by the police.
“ Ok, I hope you got your monthly.” She coaxed her informer in to saying some thing.
“ Madam , I am just a constable and wasn't even present on the crime scene, let me find out.” Her trick worked. Police constables were generally the best source of information. They were present invisibly all over the department silently hearing , what was cooking and it was through this constable , she had found out about how Desai had mastered the art of fake encounters . He had been teaching the tricks of the trade to a junior officer.

Anju leaned back on her chair and closed her eyes. Although every thing seemed open and shut, there was something amiss. The phone rang. “ Hello, yes sir , I am working on it , there is something I want to confirm from the police department.... yes sir.” She answered. The pressure was building up. Her boss had called her up to ask for up dates.

She looked at her mobile phone. No calls. Should she call her informer again. It was too early. “Every body needs somebody to love” The mobile rang . She was in love with the song and had made it her caller tune when she had first heard GNR sing “November Rain”. She wanted to hear the second stanza but looking at the number immediately picked it . It was her informer.
“ Madam , I spoke to a constable who was present at the arrest. Yes , there was a fourth person. He doesn't know the name but he was not arrested. He was questioned and later released on Mr. Desai's bequest.” He looked pleased with this information .
“ Thanks” Anju kept the phone down. So there was a fourth person who's identity the police had hidden from the media. The question was why they had done so . Anju looked at her Titan watch . She knew she could now be able to meet the deadline. It was however important to bring this person in to the studios for an interview.
She looked at list of people who had appeared live in relation to this piece of news. This fourth person was somehow connected to these people , but whom . The project manager of the construction site seemed to be lying through his teeth about how he had discovered the body of the baby. HE wasn't even there when the body was recovered and was still seen adjusting his belt , when a mike had been thrust in to his face for sound bytes. He seemed only too eager to face the camera. It couldn't be him. It was not one of the persons who she had seen on camera. It was someone who was related to the crime in a odd way. He had known everything and hadn't been mentioned by the police or the media till now. He didn't want to appear on the news channel either.
“ Joshi , bring in the footage of the construction site.” She called her camera man who was yawning after spending the whole night at the graveyard and later at the police station. “Madam, we have shown all the footage. There is some footage of the interview with the owner of the construction site left,Should I get that .” He asked covering his mouth so Anju couldn't hear him yawn.
“ Get all of it” She commanded.
She loaded the CD on her desk top and pressed play . The interview was like any other . It was just another self promotional gimmick , with the construction site owner talking about the development of his site and the kind of apartments he was coming up with. The video was about to end when a tall guy entered the office. Although his back faced the camera , his voice drew suspicion.
“ Sir , the car is ready to go.” He had said , his voice was shaky and he sounded rather sleepy.
It was a Sunday and probably he was just an employee. She rewound the footage. She zoomed in. She noticed the watch . He was wearing a Longines. A chronograph. It meant he was some big shot in the company. Why hadn't he bothered to give an interview.
“This person who comes in at the end , did you take an interview” She asked Vinod .
“No, we tried , he said he didn't knew anything . He looked tired as if he hadn't slept the whole night.” Joshi had known that look on the face of Anju madam. He knew she was up to something . He had seen it once before . That time Desai had got into trouble. Was she happy because she had found something against Desai.
“You can go.” Joshi stood up and left the office. Anju started typing on her Desk top.
“Breaking news, while the police arrested Peter and Mrs. Joseph for the murder of Irina , there was evidence found through reliable sources , that Mr. Desai , the retired Police officer was not the only person present on the scene of the crime.....................

Romil sat in front of the television having food. She hadn't heard from Sandeep, and was wondering if he had reached safely. Romil had started to like Sandeep but she knew that she would never be able to love him. Sandeep that day had heard her out and had promised her , that he would see what he could do regarding his transfer.

She flicked the channels . Every news channel was stuck with the news of the hour. Irina Joseph's killing. She wondered why anybody would kill her daughter and her new born baby. Ram Singh brought her back from her reverie “ Madam , the food is getting cold.” He stood there holding a plate containing some rice. Romil hadn't eaten anything. The food was cold and unappetizing .
“ Re heat it Ram Singh.” She ordered Ram Singh . May be it would make it more edible. She wondered why the staff cooks were not trained to make proper food . Maybe they were supposed to make it the way they wanted to. Maybe they were married to a job that just like hers was dead, with no passion in it to keep them working.

She changed the channel. Anju Aneja was holding a discussion with one of the crime experts. She had liked this channel for their portrayal of the truth in an honest light. She believed these guys unlike other channels who would just sensationalize the news to gain TRP ratings.

“ Sir , there was another person there on the crime scene , Do you think he was also involved.” Anju was asking this expert. “ Well , if there was wouldn't we know about him.” She was answered . “ Well , thats what our expert has to say , but the sources in the police has confirmed that there was another person and soon we are going to reveal his identity. He is in the studio right now with us.” Anju said.

Romil heart had skipped a beat when she had seen Siddhartha sitting in that chair. He looked a little old but she could not mistake those looks and that boyish charm . He looked tense and kept looking at his watch. She remembered the watch , how could she had forgotten it , after all it was her who had given Siddhartha this watch. Siddhartha was in Goa . How long she had tried to find him and had no clue. Siddhartha's parents of course hadn't told her where he was and there was no way of finding him. She had given up all hope and just when she was thinking of moving on , Siddhartha had once again emerged from the shadows of her past.
“ Mr. Siddhartha , you were at the crime scene and were the first one to notice the body inside the house , isn't it right.” Anju asked him.
“ Yes , I was there and I gave the information to Mr. Desai , since I didn't now how to act upon it.” He answered . Romil felt Siddhartha's words piercing her heart. That deep husky voice , she was in love with. Was Sandeep also watching. A fear crept in to her heart. What if Sandeep recognized that Siddhartha was the same guy , she had told him about . What if Sandeep went after him. After all she had heard stories about him and being an IPS officer surely he could pull strings in Goa. She prayed to God that Sandeep was unaware of this development. Siddhartha was telling Anju the whole incident as it had happened and He seemed to play the part of a informer well. He looked the part and although was tense in the beginning of the show now seemed to be enjoying the camera spotlight on him. Romil remembered how Siddhartha had loved the spotlight once . It was his big break after all. Playing the part of an informer for a media channel in a high profile case.

Romil listened to the whole incident and was rather impressed when he had told Anju , how he had wanted to enter the house but was stopped by Peter. He had a lot of presence of mind by not believing Peter and informing Mr. Desai. Romil was glad that Siddhartha hadn't tried to be a hero . He had done the right thing. Romil wanted to meet Siddhartha , but , then he was sitting in some studio in Goa. If it would have been Delhi , she would have immediately gone to meet him, to reconcile with him.

The interview ended . Romil got up and old Ram Singh that she was not going to eat after all. She wanted to meet Siddhartha . She knew after giving this interview he would get in to trouble with the authorities. She wanted to save him but how. Sandeep cold have helped but why would he . Wasn't she his wife. Why would he help her wife's ex lover. Maybe he would . She didn't know what to do . Whom to call. She picked u p the phone and dialed Sandeep.
“ Hello , Sandeep , how are you doing , I was just wondering if you reached safely.” She said deciding to let Sandeep mention the topic. “ yes , I did. I was about to call you , good you called .” Sandeep answered. “ Well, I have applied for a transfer today and my boss agrees that it is important for me to save our marriage.” He continued.
“ Thats good news .” Romil wanted to tell him about Siddhartha and that she had finally found out his whereabouts but thought it was best to keep quiet at this time. Let Sandeep mention him. She was confident that he was watching the show. “ So , lets see , when I get the transfer . Are you all right.” He asked . He hadn't got any response and wondered if Romil had even heard him.
“ Yeah , I am ok . I am just a bit tired . Well then I will call you tomorrow.” Romil kept the phone down. She wondered if Sandeep had seen the news channel. She would tell him tomorrow.

Sandeep looked at the phone. Forty two seconds. Romil wanted to say something but hadn't. His Police instinct told him , there was something wrong .Romil was hiding something . She must have been watching the news . When he had seen the program , at first he thought it was his name sake but then just as the program ended he had been called by Romil. So it was indeed him. He had counted on her calling him ,if she had watched the broadcast. His sixth sense now active , told him that the Siddhartha in the program was the same Siddhartha. What should be his next step . Should he give Romil up. He wondered.
Sandeep sat in the rocking chair nursing a drink. He used to seldom drink and the servants in the house knew when sahib was drinking , he was either upset or planning something major. Jairam brought in ice and cold water . He kept it on the table and retreated quietly closing the door behind him. Sahib was drinking more than usual today. It was the second time, he had been called for ice and water. The bottle on the table was half empty.
Sandeep was happy in the morning when his boss had told him , that he was going to forward application for his transfer to Delhi. He had waited the whole day to tell Romil this news. He had come back in the evening and was about to call Romil when Anju Aneja had introduced her audience to the fourth person in the murder plot that had the nation aghast. Initially he had thought it was some one else, but then he had drawn a mental picture of Siddhartha when Romil had told him about Siddhartha. This person was a true copy of the picture. The same husky voice, the same boyish looks , the same built. Sandeep had calculated that if Romil saw the program, she would call him. A hunch had warned him . He had to act fast . Should he let go of Romil or do something to get rid of this intruder . He sat in his chair for a long time . Jairam entered the room and asked him about food. He carelessly flicked his head and said no. He wanted to kill Siddhartha for coming back in to his life. He had been trying to save this marriage for a long time now and in just half an hour ,he felt as if he was loosing the battle.
Romil was going to go back to him. He decided he was not going to loose Romil even if it meant destroying Siddhartha . He picked up the phone and dialed a number . It was an old friend from the training college in Hyderabad . After all he was the officer in charge of the case. The SSP Goa was an old batch mate.

Cricket a Doomsday conspiracy

2008-05-15T00:35:00.000-07:00

So the Delhi trip was kind of satisfying . While I applied for my Visa the only thing I missed was writing about the much hyped IPL. It just happened that I was passing through the vicinity of Feroze Shah Kotla stadium and with the flood lights on , I who has been ripping apart the IPL in the name of Indian Paisa league was tempted to go inside and watch the proceedings.

I wonder how it feels to watch a match in a stadium. Since I am extremely lazy by my own admittance and detest any form of physical activity which involves movement for the sake of fun , I know that I wont ever go to a stadium to watch a match even if it were between the arch rivals India and Pakistan and the tickets were by invitation.
I have never really watched a complete match from ball one to ball culmination and since I am never interested in watching a batsman score a hundred ,it is fraudulent for me to write anything about the game so I have always kind of stuck to highlighting the controversies involved in the game. As they say “To each his own.” My blogs on cricket do not have a great audience and since all the TV channels are stuck with the latest fad of only talking about the controversies , I thought of doing it myself, not because I couldn't see it ,but no one was talking what I wanted to hear. It seemed people were afraid of saying it .I on the other hand who is a nobody and like to think on the conspiracy theories love to write about it.
It also has proven to be a vent to the pent up feeling regarding the tide that has swept the world of cricket. While hockey suffers cricketers are paid insane amounts in a duplication of a game trying so hard to copy the excitement of a football game. If cricket ,which once was a character building game has turned in to a mockery ,it is us to blame ,who wish to enjoy the game but do not want to really waste a day watching the game. The answer is reduced hours, faster game and cheerleaders to provide raunchy entertainment.
India a country of diverse elements has finally succumbed to the foreign invasion once again. If things were to be this way it is sad that so many people actually tried and succeeded in attaining freedom to the country. Indians would have been much happier working in British Call centers and spending pounds instead of rupee which is almost 1/80 of the British pound.
It is true that the country would be more stable if it was still under the British empire, at least the youth of the country would be much happier. The domination of foreign brands is only an indication of times to come. What is sad is the fact that the youth of India is no longer interested in the glorious past that this country has but is moving on the path of self destruction. The multi billion Dollar fast food industry that once crippled an entire generation in the USA is now targeting the Indian market and no wonder is going to succeed. Most of the fast food contains MSG or mono sodium Glutamate which not only is addictive but is a major cause of cancer . While the US government keeps on blaming the indian lifestyle for the increase in the food prices, I wonder why their fast food giants are so anxious to invade the indian market. The reason is money .

When we were kids our only encounter with the burger was at the local restaurant which used to be a big greasy affair. Chances were that you would not relish the product and wont order it again. Now with Burger chains who claim to provide with low fat burgers and healthy burgers ( burgers with a leaf in them), people are being conned in to eating that remains as unhealthy as it always was . The names change and so do appearances.
Whats surprising is that how easy it is to attract customers in India . Create a brand name. Convert it in to a status symbol . Get people addicted to it . Reduce prices once investments have been recovered and watch the crowds walk in through the doors wanting more. One would say that its good business sense but what about the social responsibility that any corporation has towards its customers.
IPL is just a symbolic representation of the deteriorating times that have slowly but surely been leading the world to disaster. With twelve thousand people dead in China just before the Olympics , nothing changes . Money will still be spent on making a stadium rather then providing shelter to the homeless. Times are changing and when people run to God for shelter on doomsday and ask him why he did it , I am sure Gods reply will be “ Its not me , its you who have brought this day upon you. Remember when you were cutting the rain forests and destroying the fragile ecosystem all in the name of progress. All that you needed was food , shelter and water to live a healthy ,fulfilling life.”
What would be interesting will be to find that heaven would already be full of species that man so carelessly killed for his own selfish interests and the only place for him will be in hell where he shall suffer for eternity as there will be no place left for him to rebirth.
I say we will all achieve Nirvana this way . Freedom from the bondage of life and Death. Destroy earth and thats it. What say gentlemen . Cricket doesn't need you anymore.

my life a black hole day one

2008-04-28T09:59:00.000-07:00

The year was 2008 and once again I thought of doing some thing with my life and again I was in the same shit that I always faced. I decided to increase my knowledge and after much tantrums and convincing done on the part of my parents I was finally able to secure admission at the le cordon blue college in Adelaide , Australia.

I got my passport renewed and and applied for a students loan. The plan was simple and if everything went well I would soon be out of the country for good. I hadn't thought about what exactly I was looking for but it was more for the love of leaving the country for good.

While I was in the process of doing all this , I also got a marriage proposal from Australia. Another complication . Now those who have known of my plan to get married to Priyanka in case she was able to move abroad fell in to jeopardy. This girl from Australia was a engineer and was working as a hydrologist . I became suddenly aware that it was to be my good fortune if I was able to marry this girl rather then getting married to Priya.
The advantages of getting married to this girl were as follows-
1)I get a permanent resident status for Australia ( the main goal of the whole exercise )
2)I get her to pay all my fees and expenses in Australia ( I don't need to take the Bank loan )
3)All right I agree she is not very good looking but then I will convince myself that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. ( what the hell , I need the money )
4)I will live happily ever after as in all fairy tales .

Well I wrote down the advantages and send my Bio data and cool looking pics ( according to me ) to her parents . I thought this was a sure shot game of ending all my problems but the only problem was , after doing all this , a week has passed without a reply which means that my luck has finally ditched me again.

The worst thing that happened during all this was that I broke up with Priya in the hope of getting rid of her , as she no longer served my purpose and would have proved to be an emotional baggage on my conscious.

A bad decision but I think she loves me a lot and still wants to marry me and asks if the girl from Australia has decided or not . Each day passes and I know that with each day the chances of her replying in on a positive note become less .

In todays world when everything is considered to be a material decision some how I felt wrong in doing all this. I felt that cheating Priyanka was not the right thing to do , but time made me do it . Now this girl Priyanka is a big God fearing person and goes to temple everyday and I think she prays to god that I should not get married to this girl . I actually don't think she is doing this but I believe it.

Damn , I know she is more close to god because the only time I speak to god is when I am in some real deep shit , which is when I didn't do my home work in school and prayed to god that the teacher doesn't ask for the home work and at times when I needed a miracle to happen like getting a job when I got really frustrated sitting at home. She on the contrary goes to temple everyday and prays to god inevitably what may come . Damn I am like the Mumbai Indians team which is constantly loosing every game they play . Maybe I should slap some body like Harbhajan Singh and get banned then playing for a looser team.

Now , the situation has become precarious . While the girl from Australia hasn't replied and the bank loan hasn't been approved ,chances are very bright that all the best laid plans may never be full filled . Which leaves me again with the question whether I will ever get that happily ever after that Shrek goes to find at the Fairy God mother in the movie.

“I got a proposal from Australia , the girl is a engineer with an MBA and works as a hydrologist in Hobart , Australia .”
“ So what have you decided ?” “ Are you going to get married to her .” She asked. “I am not really very sure , I think if she says yes .” I answered .

The phone clicked and the line went dead . Priyanka was gone for the time being. This however was the shortest call that I made to Priya till date. I was too happy to think about this at the moment . An engineer with an MBA . She must be earning well and since the Bio Data did not mention how much she was earning I took the liberty of logging on the net and search for how much a "hydrologist", the profession she mentioned earned in Australia.

I was really happy to see that they earned well. This could be the fairy tale ending that I was looking for unlike the hindi movie scenario , where a hero has to fight all the villains to get the girl. Here the hero of the story was willing to get paid to leave the girl he wanted to marry for the money .
The only thing that could hamper this plan was if the girl in question said no. I really thought that it was an impossible situation as the girl in question , if I thought right , was thirty one years old , not a looker and not getting much proposals for marriage. The question was how many guys in India actually think like me and may have been logging on to a marriage portal were she was a member . Yes , I took the liberty of searching her on the net . Finding her there however wasn't exactly a very good thing in my evil plan as this meant that she had a choice. Of coarse I am not the only guy who thinks this way in India . I am sure there are many like me who would marry a girl living abroad for the NRI status that is conferred upon a few lucky guys.

Day one – I opened my mail . No reply .
Day two- I opened my mail . No reply.
Day three- I open my mail. No reply
Day four, five , six , seven – I open my mail. No reply

Damn . My worst fears had started taking form . Yeah , I think this was it . Another castle in the sky with no firm base tumbling to the ground. However I had kinda lost my pillar of support Priyanka in the process.
“ hello , Priyanka”
“ Yeah what do you want ?”
“ Please Siddhartha , what have you decided , should I start looking for other guys”
“ Do what you want , I an not interested in you . Unfortunately you haven't kept your part of the bargain so I have nothing to do with you.” I answered and slammed the phone down.
I wondered why I was trying to loose her when I was not sure if the girl from Australia would agree to marry me .

I have always believed that my life is a fairy tale and is gong to end like one and this has kept me going through worst of times . I remember when I had five rupees in my pocket I believed that everything would be all right and it turned out to be all right. Maybe it is my star sign that guides me through all this .
Let us see what is going to happen tomorrow. I think I will watch the match now .After all it is MS Dhoni against the Royal challengers at the I P L .

Am i a genius or what

2007-08-22T01:13:00.000-07:00

Life is a bitch . Well you might have heard me saying that , i think i repeat that too often and then yet again, i never had any regrets from life . I did what i always wanted to do and bringing everything in to a full circle. Yeah , Started as a student at IHM and now working there as a lecturer .Duh .The full circle .Balls I only lost interst in the profession of teaching and suddenly realised that lecturers ,teachers , professors anre people who have lost it ,and lost it bad.They know what they are teaching is crap and what the student is asking has to be answered . However they are not gods and more often then not ,I think a wrong answer has become the norm of the industry not becuase it is mmenat to be that way but bcos the idiot who taught something he didnt knew got passed on to the future generations .It got printed and published and became the law of the land.

So i thought why not .the students believe what the teacher has to say and if i said some thing that was unknown to me, may be it will get written down in the books and will be known as law of the land. The idea sounds cool but i wonder how much unteaching i can do , as students now a days are smart and i havent picked a book since the year 1999.
Well i think its time to play the game . Keep your silence and say things others dont know so they end up thinking you are a genius.
Intersting thought .Wondering how long will it take for them to discover that all they have is a common fraud and not some Einstien. I mean all i did to get this fuck up job was to know one thing from the whole of lillicrap that also i think was on the first page and in the first line and i got the fucking job. It was only later that i realised that to teach you need to be a master of the subject.....
I started studying and soon i became a master , i knew how many vine growing regions where there in france and how many types of wines or for that matter bottles are there .I could have started a blog related to that but i found out it does not have much viewer ship. so i leave it to that.
So i say my life is a dream and i dont know that probably next year i will be sitting in australia again thinking when to stay quite and let people think i am a genius .

The gallows of home

2006-09-10T09:23:00.000-07:00

The Gallows Called home
When i was in college , i always used to call my home my rehab, not because there were rules to be followed or things not to be done .My parents used to pamper me a lot when ever i used to go home ,yet i came to the fact that it was more of a rehab as there were certain things i could never bring to do myself in front of my parents.
I could for instance never drink or smoke in front of my father and till date he thinks that i dont do either .Its also for the fact that i get bored of things fast and smoking and drinking have been the same .
I pick up things to leave them once i loose intrest in it .A serious mental disorder and yet i am not addicted to any thing . This could be a disease where you cant get addicted ,others call it spiritualism.
Am I spiritual , i guess i got bored of my spirituality once and left it too .The problem with my mind is that i dont get bored i am just sheer lazy and knowing the truth does not help.
So when ever i am working just to proove my self wrong i work hard ,i work till the soles of my feet look like the surface of the moon with blisters all over ( this could be bcos i wear the wrong kind of foot wear).
So i got bored of living alone and i got bored of my parents and i got bored of life .I think i got bored of the word bored .There is nothing exciting in this life and life itself is nothing great .With i dont know how many billion people on this earth its difficult to find a place where i dont see a specimen of my species where ever i go .( it only happend once when i walked five kilometers in to the jungles in the himalayas and had a skinny dip in the cold mountain water ) i think that was the only time when i was alone with only my thought , my god and that cold waterslowly taking away my senses numbing my brains .....
I some times wonder that in the last three years when i thought i was getting too old and had seen all the misery life had some thing else in store for me and i now i lok forward with eagerness and excitement to welcome what it has to offer me . This may mean that the best laid plans may fail and i may again find myself in a no win situation but i know that there is a super power which gives you what you deserve at the time when you need it most and takes it away when either you dont need it or you are destined for greater things or for that matter things that you may not like happening to you . Its all time bound .
So the question is ...
Do you bow down to the destiny game or fight it out ?
Not many people know that if i hadnt lost the house in mumbai where i used to stay when i was unemployed, chances were that i may not have gone back home yet and this is just a way of my destiny to show that i have finished with my running and its time i go back home and do some thing that it has in store for me .
So do i bow down to gods will ......
duh ...
The answer is clear the tickets are booked , the informations forwarded .the bags packed and off i go tommorow in to the Rehab...
PS : The doctors are my parents

Do i Nail Her

2006-09-04T08:19:00.000-07:00

Do you nail the bitch when you had the chance ?????? Strange .You might be thinking what is wrong with this guy ?? My answer is well nothing is wrong with me .Some thing happened that made me think about the so called theories of love. About true love that is . I dont say that true love does not exist in this world and i would say those who get it are lucky but those who dont are plain unfortunate .So coming back to my question .Do you nail her when you had the chance bcos you dont know if you are going to spend your whole life with her and while you are trying to woo her with flowers , some body else is already playing with her flower.
So what do you so when that person happens to be your soulmate or you think so it is but destiny has othe games to play .
She trained under me and i already buried her in my past but one fine evening when i was chatting to my new found love she messaged me saying .all i wanted was friendship and i couldnt give it to her .I wonder how to reply to her, but i knew what the message meant some how i could always predict what was on with her life and i could guess the events happening in her life .She was so predictable . She was getting married to her boyfriend and i knew it .
I felt a strange feeling growing inside me suddenly working so far from home had no meaning and going back was an option i could look in to . There was nothing left for me in this part of the country and the work i do is boring enough to kill some body.I felt that all these months had gone waste and as a matter of fact this year itself is wasted . Nothing much was achieved and nothing much seems to be at the anvil.
The strange part was that i didnt feel a thing ,no tears building in to my eyes when a person whom i used to send fifty love messages a day was getting married to the guy i hated the most bcos i knew her life would be over if she marries him .No tears , the only thing i felt was i should have nailed her when i had the chance . Maybe on the day it rained and we were on my new bike or on that night when we were alone on the railway station .May be.
Did i do the right thing ??? I love my girl now , and shes really working hard towards our future together .I have never met her yet i love her so much that today when she hasnt called up i feel sad ,some thing amiss ,some thing not good.....but do i nail her when i get the chance .I know she will not say no but i know that will be the end of our relationship .I cant let her go and knowing myself i know i will just move on .she will also ultimately move on only afte crying and cursing me .no tear s will be shed .
I think i should get married to her or rather i would say i love her and should marry her .she supported me in more than fifty ways and i know if i loose her i may never come across the right girl but i cant connect to her i cant predict what she is doing at the moment or say what shes thinking .That way i could only connect to monica and i regret it .I dont need to know what shes doing as long as i know that talking to me brings a smile on her face and if i dont hear her voice i feel sad.Isnt it enough to love her this way.She knows everything about my life and i dont hide any thing from her that maybe some day i will be able to connect to her communicate with her in the sign language .When i will be able to see her doing things sitting five thousand miles away from her .But then i know i did the right thing not nailing her because i love her and will always love her from my heart ...........
Incoming from monica " hi sid ,how are you can we become friends now i dont love you anymorebcos i started loving nitin and its all because of you .you are the wayfor my real loveand its nitin"
What do i reply to this ?
Fuck off
Oh its ok ,i also love some body else
Yes
But my answer is silence i dont want to answer such a stupid question .Why should i even get in touch with her when i know that sending even one message is against my dignity now.The last message has been sent .The answer given
Silence
Incoming from monica" My choice was so bad when you were there and i didnt realize his love for me but now its not like that all is well"
Duh this bitch never stops .Maybe i should have nailed her when i had the chance.The stupid girl doesnt care for me or even felt once before sending me this stupid message that i am way way over her and i dont want to see her fucking face again in my life and she expects me to spend money sending a reply to those idiotic messages .She calls me a bad choice and i should go begging on my knees for her friendship
The answer given
Silence
Wait another message
Incoming from Monica "Ok will not disturb u thank you ru with you darling sorry dear have a lovely evening bye and wish her congrats from me coz she got a lovely guy bye"
So i guess the bitch got the message ....
The answer given .
Silence
I really dont know what to answer to these messages .How can a person behave so normally when she knows shes broken the heart and spoiled the life of the other person whom shes sending messages too.The answer is ,she is just plain selfish.She just thinks about herself and her shortening freinds list ...But in the end i know she will be alone .All alone in this world .
There is so much difference between the two girls i loved in my life .One is a girl i should have nailed her when i had the chance and the other i wont even touch even if she openly said she wanted to be nailed before marriage .That is the beauty of her .That is true love .....Monica if you read this some day remember i loved you but do not even care a shit for you now because you know in your heart that you are guilty of breaking a beautiful heart and god is watching you .
You are condemned ....Never will be happy in life ....Not because i cursed you but because you made the worst decision in your life and i am happy you made it because its the punishment of living with that guy whom i warned you always about ...
This is fun so i got my answer too . You got to decide if you should or shouldnt nail the girl but i guess all guys are too stupid to really know when the moment is right.

2006-07-30T06:52:00.000-07:00

So she is gone and a void is created in my life forever .Love the feeling of bieng loved while it lasted. She was a great girl only she was not in love with me and i respect that now .Chances are that i am never going to meet her again as i may never go to her city but then chances are that one day we might just bump in to each other in the strangest of places .I dont know what will i say to her then will i just move on or i would go back in to the past to see every thing i went through .
One thing is for sure i learnt my lesson . you should never plan things for the future that are still uncertain . Buying a house for the person who never said or commited any thing to you is not the sanest of ideas after all and as time will tell taking the deposit back was never a very good financial idea .In due course of time things would have looked up and she might ,just might hace come back in to my life . Hey whom i am kidding .the fact is that i will go old waiting for her and she will just not be there .
HOw ever its time to move on .All my stories have reflected on me and the life that i have led or might have led but my real life is a painful and sordid tale of deception and lonliness . Some thing is defintely wrong with my mind as they say i cant apprecialte the good things in life .
How i became from some one to no one in the long battle of life .Well i was never any one .Maybe i am getting old and sick of life the way it is going on.
They say it is a fault of my stars but then stars were never favourable and it has occured to me that until and unless i am unhappy i am not happy .i have been loving the idea of bieng sad and unhappy and loosing things is like winning. So rom now on its time to change i am going to appreciate what i got and plan out things differently .
make a difference to my world
Be a good boy and hey do i still keep the promises i made to my baby .i do not know for they all mean bieng sad lonely and unhappy in the long run .When you keep company of one thing called liquor you forget all that has happened to you in the otherwise sad world of yours.
Bonzo must have given birth and my baby has new company to keep for now .
that is life when some thing old dies or goes away there is always some thing new that arrives on the anvil .Polly is gone and priya has walked in to my life .Its not that i will ever love you less but then its her right to love me and be loved back for she is the girl who waited for me to get over you but then life is such.
Always loved you and the day you walked in to my life was the best day while the day you went is still not very far in my past . but life goes on .Work is killing nothing seems to intrest me any more or nothing seems to hold any values .
No achievement gives me satisfaction .No failure distresses me. its like a feeling of bieng a jombie alking in to the street not feeling the rain ,heat or any thing.
Love was a wonderful feeling and i know that i may never be able to solve my problems or love some body the way they do but some how i have lost the charm , the feeling to love .its like bieng alone is bliss .
The journey of life is just a beginning ...........

Letter to Monica

2006-07-27T08:19:00.000-07:00

It was the tenth day of may year 2005 when I joined a hotel called Velvett country in Khandala . I had been appointed as assistant manager for the food and beverage department and I was looking forward to working hard on this job as it had come after a long haul in my life . I had good accommodation and the staff was as usual not very happy of having me and looked forward to me leaving at the earliest but soon I got in to the groove and things began to look up I made a few friends with the other manager s who used to call me chameleon bcos of my mood swings this story is not about Kendall or my stay over there its a tribute to the only girl i fell in love with with my whole heart and loved her like there was no tommorow . It was her for whom i gwve up this job but i dont regret it because she was a dream i lived and she was the one girl who made me feel there was more to life then booze freinds and Parties .
Monica how do i describe her nothing like the person in my previous stories ,was a girl from the dreams and the day she walked in to khandala and my office ,i knew that some thing might happen . Ok i was a womaniser and loved all good looking girls but she had some thing about her . the innocence was astonishing ,the way she used to cry on little things when the staff or guest misbehaved only got me closer to her . it seemed that she was some one i could take care , mould her in to a real fine girl . But i kept my distance always becuase some where down in my heart, i knew she was going to leave in a couple of months and then i would not be able to bear the pain . but here she was in my department and i was her boss .
She would come to me with all her problems and i used to help her out with them . I knew she was sad .i knew her boy friend was there and i knew that i was only an emotional support .
It all started on the day when i had gone to drop off baman ( our store keeper ) to the station .
She was walking back home and i slowed my bike puposely to tease her asking her if she wanted lift . Baman had told me that he knew that look and she was damn impressed with me .
He got off and while coming back i stopped in front of her and she congratulated me on my new bike , which ofcourse was a second hand bike in liue of money that had been borrowed from me by the great JP our exe chef.
She asked me if i would like to go out with her and i couldnt refuse so we decided to meet in fifteen minutes i went back and came back as soon as possible only to cross her boyfriend on the way who was a trainee under me .
Monica was waiting , wearing a white shirt and jeans she looked her best but at that time i had no feelings for her and it all seemed so superficial . I was her boss only taking her for a ride on my new bike .
On the way it started raining heavily and i didnt stop .In my rear view mirror i saw her boyfriend following us and it spoiled my mood completely .I was sad as i knew this was over even before it started . We were seem by the hotel staff and the news reached the hotel before i did .
Things were finished before they even started but i was glad that it never happened and then it did.
I fell in love with her .I used to wait for her just like that standing in the rain and one day finally gathered the guts to ask her out for dinner and she refused . that day i cried for her for the first time . I knew i had lost her forever . i knew she was back with her boyfriend and i knew i was never going to get her but then i could love her even if she didnt .
They say when you love some one let her go and if it was yours it will come back to you .
Her department changed and she went in to the kitchen and rumours were afloat about her and her boyfriend all over the place this only saddened me as i had always thought she was a much smarter girl then to just become a house wife of a struggling hotelier
one day i dont know in what mood i was but i gave her a piece of my mind and i was surprised that she actually listened to me that day.
She postponed her plans to marry and i was so happy . My little girl was started coming back to me .
I loved you even more at that time monica.
Monica left the organisation on the second day of january for a new life in her home town in pune and all i did was send her messages thinking about her every minute i was lonely and this loneliness was killing me slowly . i lost intrest in work and in life .I just wanted her so badly that i started applying for jobs elsewhere and as luck had it . i lost my job and i lost her in the bargain.
But did i loose you or did i think i lost you because definitely i was short of cash i wasnt sending enough messages and wasnt happy .
Going in to depression for your love is a bad idea .
I treid in lot of places but my experience wasnt good enough and i was on the streets like a lost lover i would cry in the night longing for her .
The last time i saw you it was a dream . Some how i knew you no longer loved me the day you met me .
It wasnt just there in your eyes monica yet i believed in my love .
On first of july i joined as a buisness development Manager for my old boss for his construction company in goa and when you said you wanted to be just friends i knew i would not be the person you were going to spend your life with .I dont say that i left you and the pain is incredible of loosing you as my love for you is more then the 1700 + odd messages i sent you and have with me or all the videos of yours that i have kept with me or the mobile phone that carries your pic as a screen saver . i miss you , i think of you but i know i am never going to be the one you opt for in your life .I cant beg you , i cant cry in front of you and i cant show you how much i love you .
No cigrette burn , no knife , no letters in blood will ever be able to tell you how much i loved you and still love you .
You ask for my friendship , call me your best friend and yet your life was getting complicated because of me so i told you to get married to the person of your choice , I know i wont be able to come to your marriage or face you ever because the love in my eyes may come out in the form of tears .Because my heart may stop at seeing you kiss some body else because i love you not from my heart but from every drop that flows in my viens .
I pray for you always and if you ever come to goa please go to the lover cross at the bambolim church because there i prayed for your happiness and buried my love for you .All i want from you is to put some flowers on the grave of my love for you .
I know you may never read this and i know you may neve understand what my love for you is but hey it was about a house that i bought for you . It was about going to the church for you and it was about giving up drinking for you , It was about staying away from girls for you .It was about keeping happy when you were not there . Because it was about the promises i made to you and still am keeping .
I am always there for you .
And yes If you need any help ever regarding any thing do get in touch .You have my number ,you have my email Id and you know trekmate is always the best guy you could ever had .

My resume called life

2006-06-18T23:25:00.000-07:00

It all began in the year 1976 .I bieng my father's best had finally born on 11 December at 10.50 Pm in the night . A handsome kid if I must say .My early childhood was a dream run until my brother was born one and a half years later .Being a pampered kid ( my father would take me for a colddrink and a packet of gems every day) I saw him as a potential danger to the status and my reasons for not liking my brother were some what true as during the later years he actually stole a lot of my mental peace by performing excellent in school and life .I was a naughty kid and a speed freak .I used to ride my tragically at top speed in the colony and did make a lot of friends . I remeber on my birth day I was given a train set and I actually ran it up and down the ramp till it finally broke for good .

Destruction was a part of my nature at that time . Its not that I could create every any thing but the curiosity to find out how things worked took the better of me every time till every toy would become just a piece of junk.

When I was three I joined St. Marys academy in A place called Eeta , a small township in the heart of Uttar pradesh .I would take advantage of the crowds and kick big kids on there legs while coming and going to school. As far as I can remember it used to fun kicking them. My father was transfered from eeta to Agra and this was the first time I was in the city of Taj . I remember having a lot of fun at that time although the people loved me for my good looks I was slowly loosing it out at an early age as my brother started school and was performing excellently in class he was even given a double promotion and never did standard two . This brought him to a class just below me and if I ever failed in school I would have to study in the same class as he would be in and this was a task I had to make sure I never did although I managed to accomplish it with ease (I was nt a poor student )I could never really take on him or score better marks .It also meant he became friends with all my friends and used to be a part of all our cricket teams and would play with all of them .

My brother is called Anshul , An airforce officer is a nice guy who today falls in love and falls out of it the hard way crying in my dads arms everytime hes heart broken on the other hand I really don't care for love because it does hurt and I know it so every thing in my life today is an arrangement . Now I am not saying I fall in love for the coochie coo stuff or the kisses its more like if I am gaining some thing out of it . Sorry to tell you but that is the way I am .

It all started when I was in standard tenth . Yup , I had managed to reach class ten after lot of struggle in school and had decided that in my class ten board exams I was going to score good marks . My relation ship with my parents had not be so good till this time and I had been planning to run away from house since I was in class three . A fact that my parents never came to know because some how I always had the courage to go upto them and tell them that I had failed in one of the subjects till it had become a custom in my house to get beaten up on the day of the result .

I was in my study room and my father and brother walked in to my room

"He is studying a lot .Seems he is going to score more than eighty percent" I felt the taunt in my brothers voice ."Yeah , what do you say?"My father had said .

Now it was customary in my house that who ever between the two brother came first in class or scored more than eighty percent would get what he wanted .So my brother got a cycle before me ,a walkman before me and a camera before me .( I always saved money for these items and I remember I bought my first Mac one racer from my savings of many many years in my handiplast piggy bank.)

"If I score eighty percent what do I get ?"I Asked my dad .

"Any thing you like " Was the answer.

Now in those days there was a scooter called LML t-5 .A beautiful scooter that Mr kapil dev use to advertise for and I remember him driving at top speeds a black t-5 around the city in that advertisement .

"I want a t-5.""ok ,its a deal ,you get eighty percent and the scooter is yours."the deal had been made and very soon i was studying through the night to get that ever elusive eighty percent .Which I certainly managed to score as I was adamant to prove my father wrong this time . I was hurt and I wanted to get back at them . I never know if it was the charm of getting the scooter at that time or the charm of getting back at my brother but I did it and the scooter never came . My father clearly not wanting to spend the money on a scooter . I was shattered . Suddenly my life was in a upheaval .My young mind unable to understand why when brother who could score those marks and get the item of his desire the very same day ,why I cant get it .

My high scores were treated as a positive sighn of my career and my thirst for destruction was satisfied with a purchase of a air pistol .

I went about killing a lot of frogs with it . During those days I wanted to be an engineer and the attitude of my father had left me with a bad taste in my mouth .

To be continued.......

The journey of life Chapter five

2006-04-13T06:15:00.000-07:00

Failed Dreams

"I am a hardcore workaholic underpaid asshole." I had retaliated when the chef had asked why I wanted to resign. I had erupted, the volcano inside me had finally taken over, anger like lava flowing in the form of words. I had burst out, was it anger or really frustration that had been brewing inside me or was it the way I had led my life. But one thing was certain, my career as a chef was finally over, I was tired of life and had been thinking of moving on but it was just a dream and this volcano had sealed my fate.
I wore my chef clothes for the last time ,no longer a chef I took the Virar express for the last time .People shook hands and went at the end of the queue ,the rules were never broken ,never bent ,never taken for granted ,I was a free man ,four years had gone by and now I was jobless ,workaholic not paid asshole ,Was I really free or was it something that I could not control ,was it destiny? Or was it my fate? Had I known at that time what was in store for me would I have left my job? Would I have had the courage to leave my job .I knew were to go next.
"Siddhartha, what are you thinking?" Vishal asked. It had been a long time ago .Jindu was being released next week .Swarnalata was happy .I had met Jindu a couple of times in the jail and he was pleased that his family was being taken care off .
"how is Swarnalata?" he had asked every time I had visited him never mentioning his daughter once .Maybe he felt guilty mentioning his daughter or he didn’t want to discuss this sensitive topic with an outsider .Maybe the wound were healed and I didn’t want to bring up this topic up and pain him more . I had told Jindu how things were, how after a stiff resistance from Ram Singh and his son we had finally been able to establish ourselves. How Swarnalata had stood the grounds of time emerging more powerful with each storm that had shackled Shiv Shakti guest house.
Time that had stood still once had now been racing, competing with the best steeds, winner invariably being time.
Looking back, it started to reappear once again ,I had not been able to make a decision that day ,the lift door opened and I had walked back ,said sorry and had gone back to work .I knew that I wouldn’t be able to walk out ,I was running ,the irony of life ,when you want something in life it eludes you ,I had started this journey in search of my soul ,my true aim ,and all that I had ever found was more pain ,more misery ,agony .Had that man died on the tracks that day ? Did the condition of those Devdasis improve while I was still in jail; had her husband got down of the train when the fall had killed her? The questions which had no answers.
Was all this supposed to happen this way, was my life wasted in search of that ever eluding goal. I had suffered and still was .I had read somewhere that every man has a guardian angel but it seemed that I was the fallen angel suffering from wrath of God, Life had skipped past and I was still standing waiting for that answer when all I had to do was to stay calm and think materialistic.
"How much?" I was back sitting on the counter doing accounts for the restaurant .A tired looking man stood in front of me, he seemed to be old, had sunken eyes but had a striking resemblance to some one whom I had known in the past .He smiled, I could never forget how Randy smiled .Randy stood there staring at me trying to make out who I was.
"How are you feeling today?" I asked
"Right side up baby right side up"he answered as tears rolled out of his eyes.
"How are you Siddhartha, after so many years …." He couldn’t go on as he tried to hold back his tears.
"Still in search of my aim in life" I answered feeling sad as well as happy to meet someone whom I had known from my old days when I was still young, a friend.
That evening Randy and I sat down eating food ,he was happy to see that I was taking care and had shouldered the responsibility of Jindu’s family well .Although he felt that Vishal wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who wouldn’t have committed the crime he was imprisoned for .He related to me what had happened ever since we had parted ways ,the last time was that prison cell were we both were for a night .He had been in the jail for a very long time without a trial .It had seemed that justice had forgotten him and he was condemned to live in his prison cell for ever ,but had been recently been released due to the efforts of a human rights organization associated with UNESCO . Although during his years in Jail he had moved on from smoking Hashish to sniffing kerosene which was generally available in the prison kitchens and was used for cooking purposes and to keep prisoners high.
"Look at these mountains, they are still in meditation." Randy said
"Yeah what did you expect them to do?" I asked.
"Well when I was in jail, I had prayed to them, prayed that they would get angry and move, destroy the prison cell, end my misery and yet nothing happened but they did listen to me one day and my misery kind of ended." Randy said.
"Well you really think they are alive?" I asked Randy.
"You tell me?" Randy said.
"I don’t know?" I answered .I told randy how I had been released and about Jindu, his daughter s misfortune and other events that had happened in my life in the last Decade
"So we are all going to meet again, you, me Jindu" Randy smiled
"All but one." he added.
"Who?" I asked.
"Linny, you remember her? "
"not exactly ,I have forgotten her face " I lied .
"You are lying boss." Randy who could make out that I was lying said.
"She might be dead for all that I care ,being on drugs for such a long time would kill an elephant and she was just a human ." I said
"She’s not dead, just half dead"Randy replied.
"How do you know?"I asked.
"Well I have been in kind of touch with her, not that I knew where she was or what she was doing but I have been haunting her for a long time now in her thoughts." Randy spoke as a chill ran down my spine knowing that linny was still alive.
"What do you mean she is in India?" I couldn’t hide my excitement.
"Yeah, and she is not on drugs anymore, she is in an asylum, she went mad after a drug overdose" Randy said.
"How do you know so much about her?" I asked Randy.
"you know these mountain saints are alive, that day when I was pulled of the bus by those cops, it had an accident, fell in to the river Beas .For days she was in the hospital on drugs which were rejected by her body .After staying in the hospital for a year when she went back to her old life her body finally gave up and she went mad, all she remembered was me and a guy named Siddhartha". Randy said.
"How do you know all this?" I was surprised at Randy’s knowledge about Linny.
"Well I knew about the accident but the rest of the story was told by someone we both know. How do you think I got out of Jail ,Do you think out of those ten thousand foreigners lodged in Jails in India ,they would choose a drug addict failed Indian music star to release." He said.
"How?" I was really getting interested to know who it had been who still remembered Randy.
"Well Siddhartha, do you remember Rizzla? The South African Girl you took on that trek behind the guest house." He said.
"Yes, very well." How could I forget Rizzla ,she had inspired me so much in life .Our waste from the restaurant was still disposed in proper way and not just thrown off a cliff .Infact our restaurant was known for its cleanliness and hygiene standards all over that sleepy little town in the Himalayas. She was the girl who had taught me to fight.
"Well She is working as a senior Administrator with the human rights commission for UNESCO and was recently in India to find out about the conditions of foreign nationals in the jails in India .She happened to visit the asylum where linny is staying and when the doctor told her how linny accused herself for my down fall ,she was able to recollect meeting you and me and found out about both of us ,She went to meet you first but came to know of your release and then she headed for prison .She only told me that you were released five years ago and she couldn’t find you but she helped me get out of Jail on human grounds as I had suffered enough ,I mean ten years is a long time for carrying 10 grams of hashish ."Randy finished his statements at one go.
"Where is she now, I want to thank her." I said as a tear rolled out of my left eye .I didn’t recollect when I had cried last but I wanted to cry now ,somebody had remembered me for all these years not for what I was .
"She left for Africa last Saturday, I was at the airport to see her off ,when she asked me where was I headed for next ,was I going to go back home ,I had said I would go to see the place where all this had started , the Shiv Shakti guest house ,but little had I known ,although it came as a surprise to me that the place was still running ,that I will meet someone whom I always wanted to see before an angel would come down and free me from this misery called life. You see that’s why I feel that these mountains are alive listening to every word I say now for they have fulfilled my last wish, now I can go in peace." Randy went silent.
"But why are you talking of death, I know I don’t want anything else more right now but it seems you are obsessed with it." I said
"Remember I was a rock star once so the grim reaper is an idol for me and all that I wish for now is to meet him, the sooner the better, and remember john is also there." Randy smiled .Randy hadn’t changed much, gone old, his hair turned grey; he no longer had those good looks but still had that jest for life, that sense of humor.
"Hey guys, what’s up?" Vishal who had been busy running around all this time taking care of the restaurant said as he came down and sat next to Randy.
"Nothing, Randy was telling me about his past, where he had been and of course an old friend of ours who got him out of jail." I said.
"Must be a foreigner." Vishal said.
"So what’s your story?" Randy Asked Vishal.
"I was in the jail too, Siddhartha must have told you, but I was framed and wasn’t really involved in that rape case, she was a drug addict and wanted to sleep with me and when I refused, she had framed me for raping her." Vishal said.
"Well ,I don’t understand it was supposed to be a one night stand then why didn’t you do it ,I mean it could have saved you from all this agony you have gone through." Randy said.
"humm…for starters she wasn’t good looking ,was flat chested, although she had a nice bum she had a goatee and this wasn’t a kind of girl you would like to sleep with ,she told me about her past to gain my sympathy and even used tablets to shit .God only knows what all diseases she was suffering from. " Vishal said. The person Vishal told us about seemed to be familiar or rather too familiar for in a nanosecond Randy and I had uttered the same word "Linny..."
"How did you guys know her name, I never mentioned that." Vishal sounded rather surprised. His face was contorted in disbelief as he read the expression written all over our face that we knew the person he had hated most in his life. He had hated her so much that he had vowed never to take her name and yet we had known her all along. It was strange that one wasted life could affect three lives in such a manner, and yet we do not know how our actions would affect some one we don’t even know.
"Well this is really strange, our nemesis happens to be the same person, Linny, and now she is suffering for her sins, hell and heaven are both on this planet, in this life, you have to pay for your sins here only. " Randy spoke philosophically.
"What does that mean, it went over my head, I just want to know how the fuck you guys know Linny, although I have this strange feeling that she was the one responsible for the downfall of you guys, isn’t it so."Vishal said.
"Alas the moment of truth has arrived, lend me thy ears Vishal and listen to the strange turn of events that have more spice than a bollywood movie." Randy spoke theoretically.
I had known this all along that Linny was the girl who had brought down Vishal but it happened to be linny’s version .I however could not relate Vishal to the rape that Linny had so vividly described that afternoon before she had acknowledged me to be her guru .When Vishal had told me that she was Italian my heart had jumped a beat and when he had described her in person I knew who it was but never had the guts to tell Vishal that I knew her ,this had almost slipped out of my mind till now when getting carried away Randy and I had said her name ,and now Vishal knew that I had known all along .
"Siddhartha so you had known this all along and you never told me that you knew Linny." Vishal who felt cheated spoke.
"What was I supposed to tell you Vishal that the person who did this to you ,considered me to be her guru ,she broke my heart ,remember the first day when we met, you had told me about her and I knew it then, yet I knew she was wrong. I can make out the difference between right and wrong ,maybe you will understand the fact that I cherish you as a friend more than an enemy ,for I would have love to take revenge from a person who had supposedly raped my love . " I said.
Randy was looking at me dumbfounded as he couldn’t make any sense of what I had just said ,hell I couldn’t understand what I had just said but it did make sense to Vishal who got up and gave me hug. Tears rolling out of our eyes we hugged and stood there ,The mountain saints smiled and the fog that had so evidently tried to mar our friendship was gone .The stars came out in full force .It was a clear sky ,an astronomers dream .
"Hey guys, a shooting star, wish for something." Randy shouted and closed his eyes.
Vishal and I looked at Randy who had the innocence of a child on his face .For the first time I felt close to Randy, there was much more to his persona than his act of behaving like a moron.

The journey of life chapter four

2006-04-13T06:12:00.000-07:00

Guru Siddhartha
"She doesn’t have great legs but exposing like hell, I mean she is those good in bed types" Randy who had been staring at linny commented.
"What's your point?" I asked randy getting a little bit irritated because Randy was loud enough for even linny to hear that smart comment just made.
"Well look at those thin legs but she’s got a real nice butt, really tempting, doesn’t it excite you ever." Randy said as he stood there staring at linny who was cooking her breakfast in Jindu’s restaurant kitchen much to his displeasure who saw good money lost as he couldn’t make any profit in the fair that linny cooked for herself and her friends .
"Well did you do her?’ Randy asked.
"Hey you have gone crazy, stop smoking." I answered getting a little angry by this sudden invasion in to my private space.
"Ah then what were you doing in her room yesterday afternoon for a full two hours." Randy asked smiling cunningly.
"Nothing, she was telling me about her life." I answered looking at the mountains who were still in there place. I wondered if I really was expecting them to move away somewhere else. Looking down upon insignificant mortals, brushing them off as they tried to reach the summit. It seemed as if they could no longer stand the tickling sensation. People who had gone trekking were lost never to be found again, preserved in the snow for eternity they were reminders of things that went horribly wrong when you tried to tamper with nature.
"hey what are you thinking, you didn’t answer my question." Randy asked.
"Nothing I was wondering, what if these mountains were alive, listening in to our conversation right now, thinking what jerk off we guys really are." I replied changing the topic.
"I know what they are thinking boss.’ Randy said.
"What?" I questioned back.
"They are wondering how the fuck we knew about this plant which gives us this cool stuff." Randy said as he drew smoke from his spiff.
"Humm... That is something I never could have thought off, you are a genius." Randy was unable to catch the sarcasm in my statement.
"Thanks man. So what was it that you and linny were discussing so passionately about yesterday?" He asked.
"Nothing." Was my answer.
Linny had called me to her room the previous afternoon on the pretext of smoking hashish but after a couple of joints our conversation had wandered off to discussing her personal life.
She was sad, her story right out of a masala bollywood flick.
"The man who is my father is not the man my mother married; he screwed her and left her before marriage. My grand mother who was a woman of principles threw my mom out of the house and she was left to fend for herself." Linny said.
"Was it such a big deal?" I asked linny, I knew in India this was a big deal for a girl to become pregnant before marriage but in Italy I thought things were different and it rather came as a surprise that out there people were just as rigid as they were in India.
"Go on then what happened?" I asked as I was really keen on knowing what happened after that.
"My mother who had no shelter approached a college friend of hers and he gave her shelter, eventually he married my mom but he could never come to terms with the fact that I was not his daughter, he used to beat my mother and when I was five years old ,my mother started hating me blaming me for all the misery that was in her life."
"After a while my father left us and from there on life was hell, to reduce the pain and anguish I started taking drugs trying to find a solution but my mothers face would appear every time I would be high. To escape that each year I come to India stay here for six months because this is the only country where you can live like a king for six months on a small budget plus I have so many friends here that it is a home away from home." Linny said.
"Did you ever ask your mother your fault? Did you ever try to reciprocate love if there was ever a time when she felt lonely?’ I asked linny.
"Well, I did do that but my mother has transformed in to a machine who does not know what caring all is about, she is living in her past. The nail in the coffin was when my grand mother died and she came to know about it six months later when a letter that she had posted to her came back with receiver deceased on it." Linny said.
"I am sorry." That was all I could say. I could not think of any better sentence and I was rather busy brooding over the fact, what a little money could do for you in this country especially if it happened to be a foreign currency that was better than the dollar.
Linny had this advantage of being born in such a country and was in a way utilizing this advantage to the maximum. Each year she would come back, year after year, looking for a quick fix and a solution to her problems which of course were just not there so she would dope crazy, cursing, and mistrusting people around her.
"Why don’t you trust people around you? Why do you have this wall around you?" I asked linny.
"I will tell you Siddhartha. Two years ago I was visiting this place and at time I was not even high on drugs, I had this guide whom I had hired for a trek in to the Himalayas. It was a six day trek and one night he raped me, although he is in jail now paying for his sins but that incident sealed my fate. I will never be happy again." Linny said.
"What?" I was shocked to hear this and was filled with sudden remorse, I felt like hugging her but couldn’t as I wasn’t sure how she would have reacted. Linny rolled another spiff and passed it on which I duty fully lit.
"Ever thought of adopting a child and bringing her up the way you always wanted your mother to bring you up?" I asked linny.
"Oh yes, but you know what I met this doctor and he told me to adopt the little girl inside me, nurture her, cherish the beautiful feeling inside me, bring her up the way I always wanted her to be." Linny’s answer left me speechless. Here was a girl I thought was enjoying her life but in reality her misery was much greater than what I was undergoing. I had everything and the only problems that I had were self made. I felt like taking care of linny but I knew she wouldn’t have agreed to it .She was a person who believed in finding her solutions herself.
"You know Siddhartha I generally do not discuss my problems with anyone and the only reason why I did it with you was that I find realms of positive energy around you, I feel good in your company. I feel safe and you speak the truth no matter how harsh it is. I remember the first day when you had told me to start believing in myself, I knew that this person had something which will help me out in the long run and although now you know about my life, I feel safe in the fact that this information is safe." Linny concluded.
"Do you believe in God?" I asked linny.
"Yes I do, but not the idol worshipping, I know God is testing me and although I maybe a fallen angel bound to suffer I will not give up my faith, I saw this picture of some God in your room, it seemed to impart so much peace and sense of achievement. I wanted to ask you if I could have it." Linny said.
"Sure you can." I got up and went to my room to get it but linny’s room was locked when I came back. I stood there thinking if all this was real. During dinner I saw linny and I knew she was avoiding me. I had felt the same way before. When you tell about your life to some one you are taking of your inhibitions till there are none and then you are naked standing there thinking why you did it.
I walked up to linny and she looked at me trying to avoid me.
"Hello linny, how are you feeling now?" I asked her.
"Thank you Siddhartha for being such a great friend and a spiritual guru." Linny gave me a warm hug.
Now was I a spiritual guru or not this was something only linny could decide but one thing was sure I had come to a conclusion that my problems were not the least complicated in comparison to linny’s.
"Well linny actually it was me who wanted to thank you not because you told me about your self but because I realized that my problems do have a solution unlike yours and they are not the least complicated for that matter." I said as I moved to sit on the next table. Linny had looked at me and smiled.
"So what were you and Linny discussing yesterday in her room?" Randy asked me again and I was transported once again to the present.
"Nothing, spiritual stuff and the likes of that." I tried to evade the topic once again.
"Hah, Spirituality you must be out of your mind all that female needs is a good bang." Randy laughed.
I wasn’t very pleased to hear this and decided not to go further on but Randy didn’t stop there. Although he changed the topic sensing that he had blurted out something that wasn’t really cool.
"She considers me to be her guru." I told Randy who went hysterical on hearing this.
"So now you are a guru…" He started laughing like a madman.
"Sir, you, yourself are confused about life, why on earth would you leave your job and come to the mountains to seek answer to a solution which already existed in your life. You were a chef and that’s what your aim in life was. God had provided the solution and yet you left it in search of a stupid quest which generally ends here in the Himalayas.’’ Randy had spoken words of wisdom or at least he thought so.
"Well I really don’t know if what you speak is true" I said looking away trying to hide my shame. It was the truth and I had been evading it till now but even Randy was able to deduce it and this was something I could not fathom.
"You know Siddhartha; the truth is that all the solutions that you seek lie in your head and your head has gone crazy smoking this stuff." Randy pointed to the spiff in his hand.
"I think you are right but I am not sure, I know about this from long ago and I have to seek answers to some other problems in life." I said as I moved towards my room.
Randy was right. Why was I here? What was I searching for? Peace, it was still nowhere around. God, I had lost my faith years ago. Love, this was the strangest of places where I could find it. So what was I looking for? I was actually confused.

Break up with Linny

Our mind has a strange power. It can conjure up things, which in the real world would be impossible to achieve. It can make you in to a movie star, a rich business tycoon or a head of state or in my case a hopeless lover. Yes I was in love. In love with Linny. I knew she wasn’t a girl whose company any self respecting man would even tolerate but I was a man with no self respect.
I had started out on this journey when I had lost it all; now looking back I found self respect was amongst them. I would sit and dope crazy with Jindu and Randy while thinking of my past that suddenly seemed to be much better than my present condition. I was a hopeless lover with no job, no self respect and a drug addict. Of course I hadn’t admitted my love for Linny as I was afraid that she would leave me if she came to know of my feelings for her. To solve this problem, I would, each day think of new ways to propose to her. The in sanest being hiring a helicopter and taking her to the highest peak and propose my love there. This plan had to be let off when I came to know that such ambition would burn a hole in my pocket by thirty thousand. An amount I wasn’t willing to spend on something that didn’t guarantee success.
I just loved Linny, her five foot six inches height, shoulder length brunette hair, small nose, and flat chest. Hell, I even loved the four strands of hair on her chin, which were probably a result of some hormonal changes, a side effect of excessive drug abuse.
"Hi Sid." Linny my sunshine had woken up.
"Hi… How are you doing babes?’’ Our relationship had reached the Sid and babe routine. Well, she had asked me to call her babes as she found it sounding nice the way I spoke it while I in return had asked her to call me Sid not because I didn’t like my name but the way she pronounced it calling me Shit heart.
"I was thinking last night about what you said about peace and tuning of mind to listen to your inner self. Meditation really is helping me to keep on top of things.’’ Linny said.
"I told you that meditation is the best remedy for all problems, its about freeing your mind from the grasp of trivial things and to seek a higher plain in life." I replied.
"Very true." Linny said.
"What will you have for breakfast?" I asked Linny looking for the cue card that I had made in the night about spiritual stuff to tell her, to impress the wits out of her. Some how I had misplaced it and now was at a loss of words.
"You are such a jerk." She turned and went back to her room. Obviously I had uttered the wrong words. Words that made no sense at that point of time. I heard some one laughing. Surely it wasn’t the mountain Gods who were busy meditating. It was Randy who had been observing this exchange of words with deep concentration. The next best step was to seek advice from an expert.
"Hey Randy good morning you heard the whole thing where do you think I went wrong ,was it the way I spoke it or was it something I said" I asked him.
"well, well, well what can I say, you said the wrong words, she was expecting you to say something spiritual and all you could say was did you have break fast, now if I was in her place I would have definitely made out that you are some kind of an imposter trying to seduce her in to sleeping with her. " Randy said.
"You surely know that is not the case.’’ I said.
"On a serious note I feel that she is playing with both of our emotions , have you ever seen or realized the fact that she hasn’t purchased any dope till date and the last time I had asked her to get some, she had asked Jindu to put it on our tab fifty-fifty. Now what kind of a girl would do that until and unless there is something fishy going on." Randy said.
"Now who’s getting paranoid?" I said getting annoyed.
"Suit your self; ever since you and Linny have started this Sid babe routine, you have lost it completely. Believe me she is just using you, trust me on this one." Randy said.
"I love her and I want to marry her one day, it’s just that I am not sure how to propose her." I said.
"Yeah sure till that time you treat her to free dope and spiritual parties, and love, yeah sure, I am in love with Jindu’s wife, come on do a reality check buddy. She’s a foreign number, she can’t shit without gobbling those one thousand tablets or so it seems, she spits, she’s flat. Hell she’s even got a goatee, what on earth attracts you to her." Randy retorted.
""You won’t understand." I replied as I got up and walked thinking about what Randy had said. The little town was left behind, I kept on walking. The mountains looked down upon me. They seemed to be smiling, laughing at me, and talking to each other.
They seemed to discuss the end of this love story blossoming at their feet but they were the Gods and they knew the ending. It was me who had to find it.
I looked up and suddenly everything went quiet. Dark clouds appeared from nowhere hiding me from the eyes of the saints. The temperatures dropped and I felt a sudden chill. The weather was changing. It seemed that even Gods didn’t want me to be happy. After two hours of rain and snow, my sleepy little town had once again turned white. The mountain saints had seemed to grow their beards miraculously in the last two hours looking more daunting now.
I slipped and fell thrice before I could reach Shiv Shakti guest house. All this time I thought of Linny and I had decided that it was in the best interest of both of us that I should talk to her and let her know that I loved her. At least this way I would no longer suffer from guilt or fear of losing her.
Randy who was sitting in his balcony waved as he saw me approaching.
"Hey, where had you been and why are your clothes dirty. I am sure you fell quite a few times before you could reach back." He smiled.
"Yeah I did." I said ignoring that smile of his which seemed to make fun of our relationship.
"When you were gone, Linny and I saw some great things being formed in those trees due to snow; she was hoping that you would be here to explain the deeper significance of those forms. Guess my reasoning was just not good enough for her." He said."
"What did you tell her?" I asked as I felt a strange void around the place. Some thing was definitely wrong I could feel it in the air.
""Well, nothing regarding your feelings towards her for sure, she didn’t like the fact that you left her behind when you went for a walk. I had to tell her that it was something personal that you had to sort out, like buy some condoms to keep your dick warm at night." Randy Laughed.
"Yeah sure bastard." I said.
"It snowed pretty heavy out here and Jindu tells me that its going to snow for the next three days, the weather forecast has it all sorted out on the radio." Randy filled me with important information which I was least interested in knowing.
"All right, where is she?" I finally asked Randy as he was now getting on my nerves giving me information I was least interested in.
"She jumped of that cliff." Randy said pointing to a nasty cliff near the guest house so seriously that for once I thought he was telling the truth.
"Cut the bull crap, I want an answer now." I demanded.
"There." Randy pointed to house in the valley. Surely I could make out Linny standing in the Balcony with someone.
"She’s got a friend staying there, who was in goa and came back in today." Randy said.
"Who is he?" I asked Randy. I knew it was all over and what was left, was the postmortem of a dead situation.
"Her boyfriend, surely she must have told her Guru about him, oh she didn’t, so sorry Mr. Spiritual guru your student hid an important aspect of her life from you." Randy rubbed salt in to my wounds as I stood there on the verge of crying.
"I had told you before, she is using us but you wouldn’t listen. Today he came and she packed her bags and moved with him. Jindu tells me he is a British guy and stays here." Randy said.
She was gone. Just like that, no thank you, no good bye, all that was left was a void. I could see her standing down there in that balcony with a guy, maybe they were kissing. She seemed to have already forgotten me or else she would have at least told me about him. Maybe I should have told her while I was still ahead in the race. I had finally understood that we all were travelers in this journey called life. Getting attached to some one meant complicating things. To achieve Nirvana one had to let go of worldly desires.
They say throw away the thing you love the most, if it ever comes back to you, it was yours, else’s it never was.
It snowed for the next three days. The temperatures dipping as low as -5 degrees it seemed impossible to do anything except sit in front of a wooden heater and smoke dope. I was worried about Linny who had moved to her boyfriend’s house.
"Oh don’t worry her boyfriend will keep her warm, its us who have worry about wood being put in to the oven. Jindu get some more wood, this stupid fire is about to extinguish." Randy who was wrapped in a blanket said.
"This God damn Jindu tells me that he has run out of dope and can’t get it stops snowing." Randy said.
We discussed events of the past day and deducted that Linny Infact was extremely shrewd and had used us. Although I was in love with Linny to avoid any arguments, I had agreed with Randy. I was feeling strange, maybe I was sick.
"She will suffer in hell, only if we had all that dope she smoked." Randy was beginning to loose it now.
"Uh… Yeah" I whispered not sure if Randy even heard it. I was surprised what dope could do to you and was reminded of that beggar, I had met in the by lanes of Delhi, Who had thrown that fifty paisa coin on my face. Did I look like him now? The cramps were getting stronger with each passing minute. My mind stopped functioning, strange colors started to appear before my eyes.
"May be I should drink some tea." I thought." My childhood had started to appear before my eyes now.
"Hey, it’s my turn to bat." My brother shouted as I ran after getting out.
"Later, I got to study, tomorrow." I said.
"Siddhartha, you scored excellent marks." My mother had said on the phone after my high school result came out and I was to nervous to go and check it.
"Should I marry him?" My girl friends face appeared in front of my eyes now.
"Come Siddhartha, lets go. I have come to release you of this misery. You have suffered enough in this world…" An angel’s face had appeared now. I was at peace.
"But my aim still eludes me, I cannot go." I said.
"Siddhartha, Siddhartha." Randy was desperately calling out.
"Huh, what happened?" I was brought out of my dream or was it real.
"Man you stopped breathing." Randy said, sweat dripping down his face. The room seemed to be extremely cold and I knew that it was all real.
I got up and came out of the room. It was snowing outside. I looked up and saw zillions of snow flakes coming towards me, each one a fallen angel condemned to die a silent death.
"Why me God, why me?" I shouted looking towards the sky. A tear rolled out of my eye and instantly froze. I kept crying till I could cry no more. My heart felt a sudden relief, I knew somehow the dark clouds shall pass over and the silver lining was round the corner.
"You alright Siddhartha?" Randy came stumbling behind me.
"Hey, you are crying, don’t worry I have asked Jindu to get some more dope." He said.
"No, I wasn’t crying." I said as I wiped my face with snow.
"Let’s go inside and eat something." I said as I got up to go inside. It was extremely cold outside and now the chill had started to seep in to my body.
That night we ate as if there was no tomorrow. My belief in God was strengthened by this near death experience.
Next morning the sun was out in full force, Snow fighting a loosing battle melted making the grounds slippery and difficult to walk. Jindu was busy clearing the walk ways while Randy and I sat enjoying the beautiful morning sun.
"I tell you I love the food that Swarnalata cooks." Randy said.
"Yeah, tell Jindu about it." I said as I nibbled my toast tossing the sides to crows that religiously gathered everyday on our balcony for their morning meals.
"Who were you talking too yesterday?" Randy asked.
"When?" I asked knowing well what Randy was referring to.
"Yesterday when you went in to your trance mode." Randy said.
"Oh that was nothing; I don’t wish to discuss that." I said.
"But…" Randy’s sentence was cut short by some commotion in the doorway that was blocked by ice. A familiar face appeared and she came running straight to me. It was Linny, she was back. She kept her back pack down and ran towards me. Before I knew it she gave me a warm hug as tears rolled out of her eyes.
"What’s wrong?" I asked.
"Ï am sorry, I left with out telling you." She replied.
"It’s alright, go and rest." I said pushing her away from me. Something had broken inside me and it was hurting a lot. Linny sensed it.
"What’s wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing." I replied.
"He is not well." Randy butted in sensing my awkwardness.
"What’s wrong Sid?" She asked.
"The name’s Siddhartha." I said as I turned away to look at the mountains covered from top to bottom in a layer of white. They looked back at me and smiled.
The silence intrigued me. Silence yet it conveys so much. Linny was no longer close to my heart or was it my ego that had forced me to take a decision that I was going to regret. At that time it was the best I could have thought of and I did what my heart said.
"Hey Jindu, get the keys to the room next to Randy’s." Linny shouted at Jindu who was busy clearing the snow unaware of what had just happened. Linny picked up her bags and walked down the staircase grumbling in anger.
"The bitch got guts to stay here after all this has happened. She knows pretty well what’s wrong with you and yet she behaves innocent. I am not offering any dope to her from now on." Randy shuffled in his chair and went back to eating much to the displeasure of the crows who flew away to look for food elsewhere.
"I won’t be smoking any more." I said.
"Cool, so I can have all your stuff." Randy said.
"Sure, if I have any." I replied.
Randy looked at me and looked away, I think he could read my mind at that time and he knew that I was not going to smoke anymore, this however did not bother him as it was time to change loyalties which depended on whether you have it or you don’t and I was the looser here as that evening I saw randy team up with linny discussing Nirvana and its theory while I sat in a corner missing the high that had given me friends and a care free life. I looked up but the divine thing had occurred and I decided not to give in to the devil that seemed to coax me. The cramps appeared and reappeared but I stood stuck to the notion that I was no longer going to be dependant on anything, it was always better to leave before they hurt you right down there in the balls.
Jindu who also owned a restaurant was keen on getting some tips from me how to increase his revenue. It was a small place constructed above the four rooms of the Shiv Shakti guest house and had a breath taking view of the Himalayas. There was a small kitchen and eight tables with cheap plastic chairs .Every season with the advent of summers he would open it, hire some help and run it serving cheap food and hashish but one thing was there, he had build it esthetically and used lot of wood to decorate the ceiling so the place looked like a good restaurant serving cheap hash.
"Why don’t you get some proper chairs and table?" I asked Jindu one day.
"No use, my clients are the same bunch of dope heads who come year after year to smoke, they don’t care for what I give them nor they are wiling to pay more its like a no win situation." He had answered.
This was a fact as all the clients he seemed to have were Linny, her boyfriend Daniel (yes they had gotten together after the break up) and there friends who would sit in the restaurant and ask Jindu for food. Jindu maintained a book and all there food bills would go in there it was a no win situation as I had often seen Jindu fighting over five or ten rupees which generally did not matter. I suggested Jindu a lot of changes but the only thing he seemed to agree on was to increase the prices of dishes after I explained him the concepts of overheads. This was not really welcomed by his regular guests who seemed to know the prices of dishes by heart. They complained and eyed me with distrust as I was a criminal out there to rob them of there travel money.
Jindu however stuck to the new rates which were nominally increased after much due consideration .Although I taught his help some finer points of cooking Jindu wasn’t very happy with the idea of putting garnishes on the dishes as he considered it a waste of good vegetables.
How ever I no longer had to pay for my meals as I had become a kind of in house chef innovating and introducing new menus and would help Jindu run the place making accounts and keeping a tab on the expenditures. The business started to pick up and soon we were doing good business of two grand a day much to the displeasure of the regulars who no longer could smoke dope openly as lot of people would come every day to taste the food that we were so meticulously making. Jindu was excited as he never thought he could make money from this place. Our customers just loved the mushroom masala and carom board, a smaller version of pool.
However linny and gang became extremely impatient as they did not have their clubhouse any more and for this they blamed me. They started to complain of poor service and lack of hygiene but it was Jindu who put his foot down and told them if they had a problem it was them who had to leave. This shut them up for some time and things were smooth from there on.
Randy would often sit with them although he sympathized with me. I guess hashish was big drawing factors in this part of the mountains where friendships are made and broken depending on the fact whether you smoke or you don’t smoke.
"Hey sid, you sure you won’t smoke?" he would often ask me tempting me before passing of the chillum to his wild friends. Linny would eye me and was surprised how some one could be so strong to leave some thing like hashish just like that.
I had made a couple of new friends now that a lot of long staying guests else where had made it a point to eat at the Shiv Shakti guest house every day. Each day a young girl in her early twenties would visit us for breakfast. She was pretty average looking but there was some thing about her that intrigued me especially her eyes .She had the most amazing eyes that I had ever seen. I would wait for her to come every day and I knew what she liked to eat which was muesli with curd. Each day I would try some thing new with her muesli decorating it in a different way. I would make it a point to put some extra banana in her milk shake. We never talked besides saying good morning and her placing her order .After the breakfast she would disappear in the mountains behind the restaurant, come back in the evening and eat dinner.
"Hi, Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to ask you some thing?" I mustered the courage to ask her one day.
"Yes, of course." She replied.
"Well, I was just wondering if you could tell me where you go every day in those mountains." I said pointing to the mountain she would disappear in to every day. I had often seen her walking on to a trail until she would disappear behind the mountain.
"Oh, I discovered that route and each day I walk as far as I can, it’s a great exercise." She said
"Have you been there?" she asked me.
"No, I haven’t, never got the time to go in there." I lied.
"Would you like to come with me some time?" She asked me looking at me as if she could read my mind.
"Yeah sure." I replied.
"Now"
"Ok" I said.
"I am Rizzla, Its what you make of it." she said.
I smiled and said "I am Siddhartha like in Herman hesse also as in Guatam Buddha." I had found it easier to explain my name to strangers this way as most of the traveling kind had read the book Siddhartha by the great writer.
"Yeah no deep meaning in my name though, its what you make of it sounds like a rolling paper." She laughed and the ice between us was broken that awkwardness of talking to a stranger disappeared and we were soon sitting there discussing food and the mountains.
"Let me inform Jindu that I will be gone for the day." I said as I got up to tell Jindu.
Rizzla was from South Africa and was traveling alone. She had been to Rajasthan and goa before reaching the Himalayas. She was a traveler and I knew that craving. I had once done that and I knew it well that although she could turn back and go to what she had left I would never be able to do so. This was life and I had left what I had in life there was no turning back now. The climb was steep initially but slowly it turned in to a more even trail.
"So you are not on a mission like self realization or soul searching?" I asked her as we walked on that mountain trial. She stopping now and then to pick up crystal stones which looked like gems however were of no value in the commodity market.
"You see life has so many things to offer, you just have to reach forward and grab them as they come, like these stones, you kick them and you get nothing, you put them in a necklace and you get some thing, you feel great, when you create it brings in harmony and peace within oneself, the positive energy starts to flow." She answered.
"Humm…" I said scratching my chin wondering how she knew so much about life, while here I was much older and yet wondering about my aim in life.
"But what if you don’t know what you want from life?" I asked her wondering if she had the answer to my questions in life which every one whom I seem to know didn’t .Was my search going to end here. Was I about to find out what I wanted in life?
"Why do you ask me this? Do you feel that way? I see you every day working at Jindu’s restaurant and you are in command of what you do. I like the food you cook, the innovations, the garnishes. Let me explain it to you in your language. You create dishes wonderful dishes don’t you feel any thing?" she asked me.
"But that is some thing I don’t want to do and if that is what I wanted to do why did I leave my job in the first place? Why this trip?" I was confused now and wasn’t able to understand the point Rizzla was trying to make here.
"Think again." She said and went quiet as we kept on walking. Her words now haunted me, I was a chef and that is what I enjoyed doing most. Was it time to go back I wondered. Back to my old life back to those hell kitchen.
"I know a lot about you Sid, You are on the run, running away from routine life, looking for adventure but you didn’t even bother to look for this route even if it was there right behind you." She said. Her words now hit me hard but were true. Every single word that she spoke was true and I could no longer look her in the eyes that had intrigued me so much till now.
"Life’s little desires are not the things you get but are the things that have been always there but you are too blind to see them, cribbing to God that he hasn’t given you enough, when all you have to do is to grab them, look for opportunities and make you move after all you need is food shelter and clothing." She continued.
We had reached the end of the trail which had led us to a beautiful water fall.
"Life’s little pleasures" She said as I stood there looking at that beautiful fall, a perfect view, a place yet to be exploited by mans petty economics.
"I lied to you Siddhartha; I have been coming here every day, cleaning it up, the mess left by so called campers and trekkers. People who do not realize that there is some one who is coming behind them and some body has already been there where they are going. Over the days I have been picking up empty packets and other non bio- degradable stuff and look at it now, as good as new, how ever I know that this is not going to be for long yet I am trying." She said.
"What is your profession?" I asked now completely smitten by her. I had been looking for so long for a girl like her and now that she was with me I couldn’t match up to her. Suddenly I started to feel so low, so shallow.
"I am a healer." She replied.
"Humm… So you are also on dope." I thought.
"I know what you are thinking." She suddenly surprised me.
"What?" I asked her.
"That I smoke illicit stuff, you don’t have to smoke dope to understand life Siddhartha, it’s a common thing which most of us don’t understand or don’t want to understand." She said.
"That is not what I was thinking, well actually I was but I stopped doing it once I realized it wasn’t the answer to what I seek in life." I said trying to be philosophical.
I was by now pretty clear in my head that you didn’t need to take help of some thing to realize what you wanted to get in life. Here was a girl who wasn’t doing any thing of that sort and yet was so clear and there was Randy who did nothing but smoked and yet was so confused in life about what he wanted from it. Strange things were going on and I was getting all the more confused not that I didn’t knew about all this but I had tried not to understand it till now and yet again the same things were now being told to me which I had always thought were not true. Should I believe her and go back or should I continue on my quest. I had no answer for it. Not yet.
"Hey you got all tensed up, relax, and tell me some thing about yourself." Rizzla smiled at me.
"Well there is nothing much to tell about" I said. I wanted to be alone now but was with her and she was making me think again of all the things I had done in life so she now appeared as a potential enemy in my plan of seeking my aim in life.
"Any girl friends" she asked me.
"No, had a couple of them, both of them left me for other guys." I said as their faces appeared one of them unmistakably linny.
"Oh I am sorry about that." She said as she looked at the mountains that looked even more majestic form here.
"What about you, any boyfriends?" I asked.
"Oh I have a steady boyfriend, I have known him for the last four years, and Kevin is the most amazing guy I have met. He is a dentist. Although he doesn’t understand my need to travel but never stops me from doing so, he gives me my space. In a relationship it is extremely important for you to give your partner the much needed space or the relationship begins to go sore and then it hurts, when you fail to understand the other persons need and try to impose your feelings on them." She said.
"So you have been in India for how long now?" I asked her trying to change the topic however she had told me before that she had been here for the last six months and had been to Rajasthan and Goa before arriving in that small sleepy town of mine.
"Six months" She said looking at me wondering if she hadn’t told me before.
"You know I am headed for Kerala tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?" She said and I knew she was attracted to me. The girl I had looked for was asking me to come with her and this was the perfect opportunity to say yes. To be with her.
"No, I cant I got a commitment here." I answered and instantly I knew she was disappointed by this answer.
"I understand" she said.
The sun was disappearing behind the mountains which turned pink. They seemed to cry as they bid fare well to there beloved sun. We had reached Shiv Shakti guest house, she loaded with her rocks had refused my assistance in any manner to carry them back for her.
That night we ate dinner together. Jindu smiled at me and Randy looked at me in displeasure for not telling him where I was headed for.
"I hope we meet again some day." She said as she got up to leave.
"Yes I hope so." I said.
She walked towards the door and then suddenly turned back and came running towards me and kissed me. At first I was surprised and then I gave in to my emotions and kissed her deeply and passionately.
"You want to stay back for a while." I asked her.
"No I got to pack." She said as she went out. Jindu came to me and congratulated me on this success. Randy ran up to me only to knock Ganguly down carrying a tray full of used utensils. Unperturbed he got up and came to me.
"So dude, what’s cooking?" he asked me with that familiar smile.
"Kidney bean soup." I smiled back at him.
"Bull shit, who was she? You lucky bastard." He asked me.
"She’s just a friend leaving for Kerala tomorrow." I said as I got up to go to my room. I knew linny had been watching what was going on and had sent Randy to investigate or so I thought but I wasn’t interested in getting her to understand that I was in love again or with her for that matter so I didn’t tell Randy any thing as discussing any thing would be foolish.
A hot bath was in order and as I stood under the shower I wondered if it was right decision or should I have had gone with her. Why did I do what I did? Was there some thing in it was it an opportunity that Rizzla had talked about. I did not know the answer. That night I slept like a log to tired from the day’s hike.
Slowly I had begun to realize that it wasn’t just Rizzla or me who were confused but a lot of people were. some who weren’t my gurus .To others I was their guru. It was funny as I had never considered myself one but yet now I was being cast in to this mould where I would discuss lot of spiritual stuff with lot of strangers who would be there and listen to me talk to them. I would often go in to the trance mode and tell them stuff they wanted to hear and stuff they were unwilling to hear. One such person was Jasmine, an Australian girl who had come down to the Himalayas after she had had a divorce and her boyfriend had left her. She was confused and would often come to me for spiritual guidance some thing I didn’t know I could actually help her out with.

The journey of life -chapter 3

2006-04-13T06:09:00.000-07:00

Leader of the losers
The sun yawned at the horizon, calling it a brand new day. It was Monday and today I had been in this sleepy town for two months. Life had still not answered my question; my aim still eluded me, my mind still not at peace. When I had come to this place I had believed that one day soon I shall be able to get the answers that I so desperately seek but they were just not there.
They say you build the walls around your own imprisonment. My mind had seized functioning, all that remained was hope. The mountain Gods were angry. They had shifted and turned, a rock had changed the course of the river for ever. The mountains kept shifting and bleeding, the wounds very much evident in the snow. My heart felt sad. The mountains were awake as if trying to say something, trying to make us humans understand that they no longer stood by us. The morning sun was bright and brought back hope. I decided to go for a walk.
I slipped thrice before I was able to get a solid footing on the ice. It was a sheer miracle that I had not broken any bones. Maybe it was that I was wearing too many clothes or sheer luck. As I walked in to the town I saw familiar faces. Newly weds gobbled ice cream and chat alike. It was an interesting sight; they seemed to be happy or were they? They were still to discover the truths about life but it. they were happy unlike me who didn’t know what to do with my life. A story of a newly wed came to my mind that had discovered how tough life was. She had made a great impact on me and I had decided not to get married after that.
"Take care beta, don’t fight, he is your husband." A man had told his newly wed daughter as I entered the compartment on the Delhi bound train. His sentence hooked me as I looked up to see a girl crying and her father trying to console her .Now she was no diva ,extremely fat, fair and nice features. She was probably married because of the fat dowry that had exchanged hands. She covered her face and was crying pretty dramatically giving those amazing sound effects .As the train started to snail out of the station, her father kissed her. No goodbyes, no thank you, no parting notes.
Staring in to the oblivion she looked depressed. Now I was sure that she hadn’t had a great first night, of course that would have been impossible with all the girth that she carried it would have been impossible physically but that surely wasn’t the case. As soon as the train pulled out of the station, she pulled out a mills and boon novel and started reading it, imagining her prince charming, tall dark and handsome, in reality a mediocre businessman who was not really interested in her or so it seemed at that time.
As she read, I stared, trying to analyze whether what I was thinking was true ,was it that book she read had disillusioned her, it had seemed so very much the case. Fed on a healthy diet of tandoori chickens and Mills and Boon she had become sick in both mind and body. What was it all about? Marriage a reality, prince charming an illusion . Now I was on a train where meals were served but she declined to have those, as a matter of fact she didn’t ate a morsel during the sixteen hour journey.
As the station drew closer she went back to her crying mode. The journey coming to an end or was it a new beginning, an answer which only she could provide. As she stepped off, a man approached her, her husband or so it seemed was a man of small stature, simply dressed, he had come to pick her up.
I had got my answer when she had looked at him and slipped the novel in to a near by dustbin.
The sun was bidding farewell, the mountains first turned orange and then pink, some kind of communication seemed to be occurring here only there were no words being exchanged. The lights of Shiv Shakti guest house guided me as I walked on the treacherous path which led to the guest house. The restaurant was relatively empty and in a corner sat Randy with Jindu who was rolling a joint.
"Where were you?" Randy asked, his eyes dropping, his peculiar smile in place. Jindu looked up and went back to his business of rolling.
"Ah, was at the town, checking my mail." I replied.
"So how was the day?" I asked.
"Nothing much." Randy answered.
"Just rolling and smoking, Jindu got this stuff from you know who and its rated as the best stuff in the world." Randy added.
"Humm… enjoy, I am tired and going to sleep now." I said.
As I lay in bed my past came haunting once again, I was a chef once more, being abused chopping that never ending heaps of onions, feeling lucky that no one could make out that those tears were real or were onion induced.
"hey get on the range." My chef had shouted one day. For six months I had been doing the potato and onion routine.
"Yeah you Siddhartha, prepare crepe suzette table nine." The chef had barked instructions as I washed my hands. The crepes were passable but I had finally arrived.
Over the years I had mastered the art.
"I want to leave." One day I had told the chef who was rather surprised to hear this coming from one of the hardest working guys in the kitchen.
"I cant explain." I had said.
I don’t know when I went to sleep. A knock on my door woke me up, it was all a bad dream. My past haunting me, my future\ full of uncertainty I ordered breakfast that was a standard forty rupee affair.
Randy was already awake, strumming his guitar he sat in the sun, his face making more movements than his hands , a crowd of local kids had gathered to enjoy this freak show free of cost.
"Hey Randy, those kids are making fun of you." I said as I sat down next to Randy.
"Ah, tell them to take a chillax." Randy replied.
"last night I met my guru in a dream that was so vivid it seemed to be real, he said I was going to achieve success pretty soon and there fore today I am going to practice." Randy muttered. Making no sense whatsoever, he got up and went to his room.
"What’s wrong with him? " I asked Jindu who walked in with my breakfast.
"Oh nothing I asked him for rent this morning and he is upset since then." Jindu replied.
"How much does he have to pay now?" I asked although I knew Jindu would never tell me the exact figure.
"Not much, I was telling him that the neighbors are complaining about his music and he kind of got angry threw money at my face and told me to shove it up my arse. I mean what kind of behavior is that, you don’t talk to your innkeeper like that." Jindu said.
"Relax Jindu, he is not really a bad guy, and besides he pays of his dues on time, he is just a little frustrated for not being able to make it big." I explained, although I wasn’t sure if he really understood any thing besides the language of money, my only concern was that Jindu did not throw out Randy who had grown close to me as a friend.
"Well, tell him to watch out. Next time I am not going to take any shit from him." Jindu said.
"Sure, I will do that, will you be going to the town today." I asked Jindu.
"Yes what do you need?" He asked.
"Some paper, news not rolling." I said as Jindu smiled and some tension was lifted from the air. I knew that this was going to be a very long relationship although at that time I didn’t know how long it was going to be.
"Hey mother fucker how are you doing today?" I asked Randy.
"Upside down." Was the reply. He was a rock star or so he called himself and had been struggling in the music world for a long time. Staying at the Shiv Shakti guest house, he had been trying to make music . Dope according to him stimulated his mind inspiring him to create while all that I could make out was noise or music heard elsewhere. His name was Randy and he had been staying at the Shiv Shakti guest house for some time now he had arrived a month before I had and was occupying the room on the ground floor for some strange reasons as there was no sunlight in that room. It was cold dark and strange. Randhir aka Randy would smoke whole day rolling joint after joint, discussing john Lennon , breakup of beetles and end of hippies.
"A sad case." I thought.
Life was unfair, but was it ever fair. Shiv Shakti guest house seemed to house all kind of loosers.Be it spiritual seekers like me or music lover like Randy.
"So dude what’s up?" I asked
"Nothing" he said as he pulled the last drag of a joint.
"You know john could write some amazing stuff after he smoked this stuff, some of his best works have been written after smoking this." He said as he prepared to make another joint.
"Yeah right" I said as I tore of some rolling paper to get it to the right size.
"Humm…you know Siddhartha what I like about this place ." he said.
"What?" I asked him
"Nothing bothers you….." he said as he lit up another joint.
Randy had passed out early in the morning at nine o clock. It seemed to me he had been smoking since last night and finally his brains had given up.
I got up to get out side and his last words haunted me "nothing bothers you." Was it true in a place away from civilization where the night sky lit with zillions of stars you could see with your naked eye, here were two men, one in search of his soul, the other for his music, but then music was his soul which meant we both were searching for the same things only the mediums for this search were different.
Was I running away from the civilized world, I guess I was. I wandered if I died in my room, surely Jindu was going to call the cops or maybe he won’t for the fear of getting caught in the drug trafficking case, so maybe he will throw my body off a cliff to make it look like an accident. Prospect of dying a mountaineers death was pretty exciting and I smiled at the thought.
"Hi are you the owner of this place?" The voice surprised me as I looked up.
"Uh…no up there." I pointed to Jindu’s house.
"Thanks" she said as she kept her backpack down.
"You can easily get a room here, the guest house is only fifty percent occupied." I said trying to make conversation.
"how did you know?" she asked.
"Well there are four rooms and only two are occupied.’ I said as I smiled at my own joke.
"Are you a rocket scientist?"
"No" I said.
"Well I could have never figured that out, good bye" she answered as she walked towards Jindu’s house.
I got up and ran to Randy’s room to inform him of this new development in out lives The news of having a female at our hotel excited Randy.
"Jolly good, now we can screw too…." Randy passed out again.
The idea did excite me as it had been a very long timesince ihad gone out with a girl, not in the last twenty seven years and I was twenty eight now and before that I don’t think I could have possibly have managed it physically. So I was a virgin and I thought about it all the time and this seemed to be right .Just like in the movies. God and spirituality came back with another jointand it was evening when I got up, hungry and thirdty I called Jindu who could be heard talking to some one.
I climbed down those steps which were surely a death sentence for some one care fully, I saw Jindu and our new nieghbour drinking tea.
"The bastard is going to charge ne ten bucks for that." I thought.
"Hey Jindu can you get me something to eat." I asked him waving at that new girl.
"Butter and toast." Jindu suggested.
"Fine." I ust wanted to eat and I knew that this was the best Jindu could do for me at this hour.
"Hi there, what’s your name?" I asked as Jindu left to make a quick forty rupees.
"Linny" she replied.
"I am Siddhartha ,like in herman hesse Siddhartha the famous author." I said trying to sound nice.
"Yes I have heard of that" she said.
"So why do you call your self by that name?" she asked
"huh… Well my parents named me that." I couldn’t come up with a better answer then that.
"Would you like to smoke?" She asked me.
"Well, Sure why not. " I said. I knew that this was going to be a fruit ful relationship. Friends made while smoking dope generally remained friends till there was more pot to be smoked ,more crpets to be burned As I rolled she watched me, studying my face.
"So what do you do?" She asked me as I neatly gummed the paper.
"Nothing now, I used to work at a hotel. Kind of retired now." I answered.
"What about you?" Iasked her.
"Same thing only a different department." She said and I knew she was lying. Maybe she didn’t understand what I was saying I thought but then mabe she was just hiding some thing she didn’t want to share with a stranger.

The journey allabout it

2006-04-13T06:08:00.000-07:00

The title of my book is called "The journey of life is just a beginning". It’s the story of a person called Siddhartha who sets out in search of his aim for he believes that his aim in life was not what he was doing but lay elsewhere. A chef by Profession he quits his job and sets out on this journey in the Himalayas after wandering for a few days in Delhi looking at life go past him. He is poetic and speaks in verses in the beginning but soon gets back to the language of the common man once he finds shelter at Shiva Shakti guest house in a sleepy little town in the Himalayas. Here he meets Jindu and a relationship develops between them, a male bonding so strong that when Siddhartha is released from jail he goes back to Shiv Shakti guest house and runs it for five years taking care of Jindu’s family. He also makes some good friends in this journey, one of them being Randy. Randy is a failed musician and is running away from reality. He is a drug addict and introduces Siddhartha to hashish which he quits after he has a near brush with death. Randy is a jester and he would go and team up with any body who would give him hashish to smoke.
Friendships are formed and broken. Siddhartha while staying here falls in love with a girl called Linny who is a back packer and comes every year for six months to stay in India to cut costs and smoke hashish. Siddhartha is happy when Linny makes him her spiritual Guru but this happiness is short lived and soon Siddhartha finds himself all alone, Randy taking sides with Linny.
Jindu comes to the rescue of Siddhartha at this time and Siddhartha once again finds himself doing what he does best. He becomes a partner in Jindu’s Restaurant. The business picks up but fate has other plans and Siddhartha finds himself in jail when Ram Singh, another restaurant owner from the village informs the police of Jindu’s involvement in drug trafficking. The restaurant is raided and Siddhartha finds himself in jail. For years the case drags on and in the prison he meets Randy and Vishal.
Both of them had been duped by Linny.
Randy is soon shifted to a different Jail and its Vishal that Siddhartha grows close to.
After five years in prison Siddhartha finally meets justice and is released. He meets Jindu and promises him to take care of his Family that has fallen apart with the winds of time.
After initial opposition Siddhartha with little help form Vishal is able to solve a lot of problems which mar Jindu’s family. Vishal falls in love with Jindu’s daughter who was raped and then forcibly married to Hari Singh. A divorce is arranged and he gets married to her, but their happiness is short lived as Hari Singh couldn’t take this insult. One night he manages to enter Shiv Shakti guest house and kills Saloni, Jindu’s Daughter. Vishal looses his cool and after killing Hari Singh finally goes to the gallows.
Siddhartha is once again left alone. Jindu no longer interested in business, things start to look bleak when one day Rizzla arrives. Rizzla shows Siddhartha where he had gone wrong and why he hadn’t been able to realize his aim in life . She tells him about the forces of destiny and how they guide each person.
Siddhartha realizes that while he was looking for his aim in life all this time, he actually was fulfilling it .
Siddhartha finally feels at peace and his heart stops. His last words "The journey of life is just a beginning."

The journey of life Chapter two

2006-04-04T23:32:00.000-07:00

"I saw the best minds off my generation destroyed by madness,
Starving hysterical naked,
Dragging themselves
Through the Negro streets
At dawn looking for an angry fix.
Angle headed hipsters
Burning the ancient
Heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery night……"
With each passing tree my mind raced, the vibrating cushion disturbing the perfect state of bliss, wondering about life, a train journey. Each year, wonderful, adventurous, the train whistles on and so does life, both cruel to those who come in its way. Unforgiving and maligning bodies and souls, they go on, Death is inevitable.
"The barren hillock stares at the sun,
Parched fields, dying cattle, ah agony.
A farmer looks up to the sky,
Summoning rain gods, no reply.
What has fate in store, hungry children,
Beg for mercy,
God when wrote their destiny, forgot
To give them any respite, ah agony..."
As the train left the station, she calls out, eyes staring blankly in to the oblivion, seeking desperately for that hand no longer visible from the window, the support was gone never to return. The fall killed her, as she ran after her lost love.
"Till death do us part"
The shadows of the mountains grew longer, as the sun bid farewell to the earth, another night, and more food consumed, sharp pangs jolt the body, the horror of tomorrow. Another day waits on the anvil with nothing to offer, it creeps him up like a demon, bringing death and destruction, the little one cries, breaking the monotony of the night. The sky turned orange, a ray of hope arrives……
The man stood still waiting for it; he could hear the vibrations, a low whistling noise."Ah my wife, my children!", their faces haunting his vision, at 28 he had seen it all, death was the only solution. The sun rained heat and prolonged his pain, memories from the past seemed like an oasis in this desert of life. A mirage, or was it real, a whistle. The complex machinery stopped………
A man enters the compartment, wife and kids tagging along, looking at vacant upper birth he perches his two kids on top. In the commotion another man gets kicked, hell breaks loose. Abused, his ego shattered, the father stands at the door. A turmoil engulfs the kids mind, scheming and planning the downfall of his fathers nemesis he falls asleep, rudely awakened by his father as the train yet pulls in to another station, tagging along, his hero defeated, says "Any man can be a father ,a few Heroes."
Green fields, a respite from the cruel heat, tractors operating churning the guts of the earth. Food no longer a luxury, A mere necessity. Parched land, barren mountains, a different reality, yet a common ground. Children no longer hungry, play to a different tune,
Cows grazing on nimble leaves. As he stands there he seems to be thanking…
"City of gods they call it, yet people suffer,
Devdasis cry for mercy,
Widows abandoned cry for lord Krishna,
Two rupees and little rice they get in return,
God turns a blind eye,"
Destiny, Farce, fate, who knows, why they suffer. The farmer ,his children, the question lingers as rain god blesses a town,turningroads in to a slush, People cursing rain, people praying for rain only if gods were not so confused…..
As the train pulled in to the station, my mind raced to all the events that had occurred during the journey .Strange things happen when least expected .A journey through India had seemed so vague a couple of months ago now a reality. As I boarded a bus the mind wandered again, the bus pulled and stopped, and so did life, moving on a terrain filled with potholes, it didn’t budge, time has a strange way to show its existence, life is such, it doesn’t move when most needed, the engine revved up, a traffic jam, more people, insignificant mortals trying to bring in that bread. Strange smell filling up my nostrils. Half an hour passed, no deliverance, another red light, another stoppage, was it time to change course, but was there any other option.
The clicking noise broke my trance, the engine responded, the bus pulled forward, strange happenings, a five rupee coin seemed to communicate. It made the decision, it stopped and it moved, it clicked away merrily ,shouts to stop felling on deaf ears, the bus came to a grinding halt, another click, a harsher one and it started moving,money,it seemed made the world go round.
The dope heads sat in a huddle inhaling fumes, matchsticks burning fingers and mind. Eyes hollow, they stared coaxing automobiles to end their agony.Thier clothes a reminiscent of their past. Who were they, forgotten long ago, their families, a thing of the past. The cramps, a symbol time to burn the foil again, hell existed in pockets under the flyovers, demonic in appearance, they looked through his soul, searching for some sanity he looked the other way, were they at peace, a mind slave to the foil, an empty cigarette pack had its own uses, little things in life had there own uses only if they were there.
The bus screeched, tyres whining from pain fumed in anger. A Man had increased the road count, a life turned in to a mere figure, who was he,a family orphaned, a vacancy created, did he achieve what he thrived for, his brain spilled, a mind fodder for the dogs. Death in its cruelest form. A finger twitched, marking the end of a generation. The ambulance came and went, blood spill cleaned by passing vehicles. Who was he, did he have a name, a past, , did he know the last thing on his mind bore no relation to the ultimate truth. A mother waiting, wife conspiring, sons fighting.
They live in duplex flats, close to the main road, houses constructed from wood polythene, and poverty, laughter shared, the hutments continue on both sides occupying that precious real estate meant for pedestrians, like a snake each day it grows, a place to live, kids playing, evading vehicles, a mother washing clothes, yet another one cooks, a common place shared, black tar witness to there happiness and sorrows, a compromise made a small pandal holds a wedding. Loud garish film music playing on conical speakers, kids dancing to its tunes.Lifes little delights, a big event for them, an amused backpacker clicked pictures, "oh! I visited real India!" back home he would proclaim. Kids posed, an artificial smile, demand for money, constant pestering, he moves on. Were they happy, satisfied in the bliss of smelling their own excreta thought fully marking strategic positions on the road, waiting to be splattered all over the place, the torrid smell of dead fish and excreta lay heavily, a way of life. Yet another kid evades passing truck, as he runs after the ball, his mother cursing, he returns, a smile ,not artificiality, a cheer from other, the environment lightened, moving on I looked back, studying in the street light, he seemed determined to leave it, a future ,a fight was on its way…..
As the ceiling fan took the umpteenth revolution the day’s events started reappearing in front of his eyes. The contrast as strikingly different as possible.
Staring at them loneliness befriended him, As the machinery of the night churned hour after hour, sleep eluded his tormented soul, the days events filled him with remorse for not being sensitive, As a child he had often cried seeing others in pain, a complete degradation, a curse ready to destroy the little sanity, he so cherished, the demons of the night closing in, the dope heads calling out, inviting him, promising a solution he so desperately sought answers to. Sleep came but only to a tired body, the mind still wandering, asked where to go next, maybe the Himalayas had an answer.
The morning came and went, he was too tired, The night had been anything but comforting, A knock, were the dope heads real or just a figment of his imagination. Did a solution actually lay in that hollowness of mind and spirit, escapism he concluded .Another knock." room service". Ticket to Himalayas had finally arrived .The boy looked on for bakshish, handing him a tenner he studied the boys face. Life had matured him at this young age of twelve.Acook, butler, manager, who was he, a product of a night of passion, a bread earner, a drifter? , he was too tired to ask. The bus left at six and he had a whole day to experience life at close quarters.
Similar hutments littered the clear spaces, more misery, yet a common feature, that wonderful smile, some sense of achievement. "Should I ask them?" he wondered, yet a fear of being mobbed stopped him from approaching those happy souls. A beggar approached him, hair turned brown, his filthy appearance assured that his target customer parted with enough booty. It seemed he had not taken a bath in days, the skin burned to a crisp black. It looked as if he hadn’t had food in days .Moved Siddhartha tried to give him a fifty paisa coin. "Do you think I can buy anything with this" As he threw the coin back at his face. Awe struck as Siddhartha looked at the beggar he chose the choicest of abuses increasing his vocabulary.
People looked at him sympathetically, Naked he stood, his clothes no longer able to hide his shame, showing mercy to a fellow human being was no longer a virtue, he realized.
An act of kindness had turned in to an act of self defense nasty reminder of being abused in public.
He thought of the beggar, Perhaps a dope head pursuing his occupation frustrated at not being able to collect enough for his daily dose of drugs. Maybe it was the cramps that had returned asking him to burn the foil which no longer existed. That night he might suffer for not being able to defy reality, his demonic friends guarding their loot smoking away in hell, the whiffs of that burning foil enticing him, calling out, like a fallen angel he would suffer the agony.
It was time to go ,the bus conductor calling out for single passengers baggage secured ,he boarded ,only to discover he was placed in the front cabin, his next destination, a popular hill station amongst newly weds. Sleep as always had plans to elude him and this being the perfect setting he decided to enjoy the journey, little did he knew what fate had in store for him.
The journey was anything but comforting, the bumps coming at regular intervals jolting every bone in his body. Indian film music belted out continuously from torn speakers. Playing it slow was not an option as it kept the driver from dozing off. Cigarette smoke of a different kind filled in the cabin making his head go dizzy. As the driver took puffs ,a cold chill ran down his spine ,the horror of meeting with an accident being evident ,he knew that he may meet God in person sooner than he had thought off .The mind wandered off to the sushi bars in Japan serving stone fish ,a fish so toxic that it could kill a person in a few minutes ,why then people customary say there good byes before eating the fish. Putting your life in the hands of the chef was an idea not many people would like to do, the chef specially trained in the art of cleaning fish, what if he had a fight in the morning ,what were the chances of survival, what about the person sitting next to you waving goodbye as you take a bite out of your stone fish .Was it the thrill that made people eat it ,or was there some kind of a death wish going on .What a terrific way to die, at least you died on a full stomach.
Sleep finally acted as deliverance and when he got up fog was covering up the road.
Journey in the hills beginning, it was cold and damp ,but it lightened up his spirit ,the majestic mountains challenging his wandered spirit, Coaxing him to conquer them.
The bus stopped at a road side tea stall as the hawker shouted, displaying there wares. A mountain stream pouring down from nowhere, acted as a water source, for, that sweet tea he ordered. The music of the stream played in perfect harmony with the sun playing hide and seek with clouds .The mountains looking on at the game with wisdom that of saints ,smiling at this innocent display by natures most powerful elements .A far cry from the hustle bustle of the city ,it was a different world ,nature at its best .The sun putting on a different face at different places .In Bombay it had risen with a sophistication ,a sense of priorty,an urgency to catch the 8.45 Virar express ,and here it was ,having all the time in the world to play that little game with the clouds ,hiding behind mountains, challenging the clouds to catch him .
The bus winded through the thin curvaceous road, like an insect testing his luck climbing up the leg of a saint engrossed deeply in meditation, irritating him, tickling him. The saint opens up his eyes, smiles .The bus moves on, Destination visible, it was time to look forward to a new adventure.
As the bus entered the under belly of a sleepy town, a swarm of pimps brokering accommodation entered the bus like bees to a hive .Each holding a brochure of the so called hotel he was employed for. "Two hundred rupees, hot water." They bargained, targeting the newly weds and back- packers. Living on the main road an idea popular with the newly weds didn’t really entice me much and getting hold of my luggage I decided to walk .Walk in to the mountains, walk in to the underbelly of the city commercialized to an extent where even an attic doubled up as a guest room during summers bringing in that much needed cash so important to survive the winters.
The town freshly snowed, a haven for skiing attracted lots of sports enthusiast each year looking for virgin snow fields challenging the Gods and mountains alike .A mountaineering and skiing institute boasted of best skiers in the country stood right next to river Beas .They say if heaven was on earth it was this town ,but before this Kashmir had this title, before it was ravaged by the demons called homo sapiens .Today battered it is just a reminder of those past years ,but in a way its good as nature gets that so precious time to recollect ,to rejunavate from all that humans have so wisely plundered in the name of economics.

The journey of life is just a beginning chapter one

2006-04-04T23:24:00.000-07:00

8.45 am ,The train pulled in to dock yard station ,a local train ,its iron wheels groaning under the pressure of thousand of human beings pressing to be in office on time .As he lugged forward to grasp the iron bar ,his foot missed the footboard ,dragged he managed that step and was on the train .As he made way through the compartment ,people cursing ,he stepped on feet and egos alike .A man pressed on to his chest making his lungs to collapse and as he gasped for air ,he cursed his luck for not being able to leave that highly paid job he was in to .
Life had not been easy, money no longer a necessity had become an objective of survival. Adventure was to get on that train .When he had come to Mumbai, people had warned him about the 8.45 Virar, a train notorious for the heavy traffic commuting daily on it, getting a place on it was a feat for the brave, a war, People got goose pimples just by the thought of getting on .Schedules made to avoid traveling on it. First class were no different, egos getting large, stomachs even larger, he had never missed it, an achievement of some kind .Crumpled clothes, a mark of victory. Thousands boarded it ,each day ,People playing cards ,celebrating birthdays ,ladies compartments a little less crowded acting as dressing rooms .A way of life .But life should have been better ,an option he could no longer decide on.
As he got down standing in a queue that started from the overhead bridge, he joined a few hundred men waiting for the same bus that would take him to the same destination as these men. He spotted a few of his office friends much ahead in the line, but then every body seemed to know every body, People smiled shake hands as they moved on to join the queue at the rear end .As he stood there watching the world go past him, he felt sick, sick of a life that had nothing to offer, no aim, am I a drifter? a question he had often asked himself .As his mind asked him the same question for the umpteenth time he decided it was time for action ,time to board for the bus and head for office .
His office, a kitchen of a five star hotel, he had worked hard to reach up to this position, working as a junior sous chef, he had mastered the art of the knife, today was no different, a melee of choicest of spices and abuses ,life had been unforgiving ,working for twelve hours a day , he cooked ,made sauces ,wielded his knife at trainees ,abusing them, taking out his frustration . As the day turned in to evening , he placed order after order ,the sequence coming naturally to him .Working in the hotel had its own advantages and food was no longer a quest , Savoring the smorgasbord he in the beginning had thanked God for a job which satisfied his creative self ,It had been over four years ,three on his current position .Promotion seemed to be a remote possibility ,he had seen his juniors rise .A promotion meant moving to a smaller property ,something he could not consider as he had loved this city .Creativity that, at one time intrigued him ,now bored him .A standard had been set and all he did was to follow the guidelines ,the Executive chef looking on.
The work left him exhausted and the adventure of traveling back on a relatively empty train would Mean he would be able to catch some sleep on the way back, A habit he had to dispose when once he ended up in a railway yard, after he had fallen asleep, only to waken up by the cleaning lady .The job being standard routine, he had now got used to it and he now no longer would look up to the challenge. But what was his goal?, his aim in life, He always had this feeling that he was meant for greater things, but here he was stuck in a mediocre job that paid him well.