Horrible Bosses- Review

“Horrible bosses” is a rib-tickling story of three friends, Nick, Dale and Kurt, who are deeply upset with their bosses for different reasons. Even though Nick puts his full effort in office, his boss, Dave Harken, scolds him for being two minutes late and tricks him to drink scotch at 8:00 in the morning. Adding more fuel to fire, he declared himself as the vice president of sales in addition to his current designation and thus, he blows out Nick’s dream of being the vice president forever.  Dale is working as an assistant to Dr. Julia. Dr. Julia sexually offends Dale. She also threatens to expose his nude pictures with her, roguishly shot while he was unconscious, to his girlfriend. Kurt likes his work until his boss dies of heart-attack and his psychopathic son becomes his boss. His new boss threatens him to fire unless he fires one of the “fat lady” and “Mr. Xavier”. While drinking at the bar, they find a hypothetical solution of their problems and that was to murder their bosses. They meet mother-fucker john who becomes their murder-consultant and gives them a five -thousand- dollar- idea to kill each other’s boss. What happens next is full of lots of twists and turns and then finally, it ends with an unpredictable and humorous note...

Jennifer Anniston as a sexually harassing and foul-mouthed boss has done a splendid job. No doubt, this is one of the finest performances of Anniston till date and more importantly, it lets her come out of  comfort zone and play a character she had never done before. Kevin Spacy (Dave harken) as an office-jerk has done a remarkable job. . I loved the Kevin spacy’s performance as Dave Harken most. The way he characterizes himself as an egotistical jerk, shows ingenuity to his role. Collin Ferral as bobby completely justifies his character.  He almost dissolves his character into a drug-addict maniac. It was hilarious when he argued with Kurt to fire one of the “Fat lady” and “Dr Xavier” or else he would fire all of the three.  Not to mention, Nick (Jason Bateman), Dale (Charlie Day) and Kurt (Jason Sudekies) have done awesome job.

In a nutshell, Seth Gordon, the director of movie, has done a fantastic job by providing intensity to the dark, crude and hilarious plot of this movie.  Kudos to him and his strong cast.

Life is Beautiful

He looked deep down in his heart, searching the reasons of the restlessness and the never-felt pain which was literally tearing out his soul from his physical body. In the cacophony of so many unanswerable questions, reasons were lying like half-lived fish, just taken out of the life of ocean. When reasons don’t seem obvious, passion starts reigning mind. But this passion was different in the sense that it was not for getting the reasons but getting out of the reasons... and the questions... and its damn answers. He saw his numb eyes, big nose and big dark-scattered hairs in the glass filled with dark liquid put above the table. The whirling of Fan, the flickering of tube light and the alcoholic smell, had made the ambience look like no less than a horror movie. He was lying like a lump of flesh on his easy chair, putting his legs above the table and one hand holding the glass and other in his lap. The packet of new classic cigarettes was lying down saying “smoking causes Cancer” sounding like the worst joke of his life. In one sip he finished the glass. He felt fire burning down his body. He could hear the pounding of his heart as if it was being repeatedly hammered. He tried to lift his hands but perhaps they were not his now. They did not move. He felt something pulling out him from his body and this pull was terribly unkind.

Grrrrrrrrrr-----His mobile vibrated. With all his effort he moved his eyes and saw number flashing “Mom”. Tears rolled down from his eyes. He felt so helpless. Thoughts started swirling into his mind. And these thoughts came like tornado, storming out everything. For the first time at the verge of dying and living he got scared of death. He got scared of missing the love; the beauty of life. Love comes like tornado. one can't resist it but can assist it. The horror of life turned into a wish to live eternity. Life was looking so beautiful in the eyes of his loved ones. He disdained himself of doing this. But he had already done it and there was no "ALT +Z". He felt something dawning upon him. Perhaps his soul was trying to come out of his ailing body. And at the next moment he got fainted.  

“Life is beautiful”

“This inspiring book has not only made a world record for the most selling copies but also has changed the life of millions. And today, we are highly privileged to have the speaker, the author of this book, Siddhartha Kashyap, also the founder of LIB (Life is Beautiful) international welfare organisation.”

In the midst of thundering claps, a man, in his late 60s appeared at the podium. He had charismatic radiant eyes. He closed his eyes and felt the God inside, perhaps thanking him for giving his life back, 32 years ago.

Everyone comes here for special purpose. There are nothing like good and bad things. There are only “things” which shape us, forge us to be ready to serve our purpose.  

Women-Empowerment (A Short Story)

Her spectacle ridden red eyes were trying to run away from the crowd as soon as possible. Every person was looking so alien, so dreadful.  Her heart was pounding so fast, it felt it could come out anytime. She closed her eyes; took a long-breath; chanted a prayer, perhaps to stabilize her trembling soul. But it was of no use. In the high decibel of the noise she had already lost her ability to hear her own words. Somewhere at some meters away she found a corner.  She moved towards the corner with her shuddering legs but alas! Her blurring eyes were proving too difficult to keep open. She fell down and in a few hours she was laying against white bed-sheet in the government hospital.

She didn’t know who took her there.  She moved her eyes everywhere to search some known faces. But there was no one. Finally she closed her eyes.

So how are you feeling now?

She heard a male, soothing yet concerned voice, but not sure if it was for her or someone else. She opened her eyes slightly...As the image in front of her was misted down, she saw an young handsome man in his late 30’s standing beside her and looking directly into her eyes.

For a moment she was flabbergasted and then with shivering sound she murmured...

“Feeling okkk...”

There was a small gap. Questions were not being asked. But in between the space of the two there were so many questions swirling around.

“Thanks a lot for taking me to hospital. I don’t know what would have happened if you did not come.”

“It’s ok. It is not a big deal. Anyways I had called your dad when you were not conscious... got his number from your mobile.”

“By the way, you live in Sarnath. Then what were you doing here...?”

“I am Rishita, Professionally a teacher...I teach English, here in Sunbeam school.

And what do you do??”

“Me...?
I am Ajeet. I run a NGO who is working for social issues like begging, poverty, caste-ism etc."

“That’s the reason why you took me to a hospital.” She smiled...

“Not exactly...however it is part of my work... our NGO works also for women-empowerment.”

"Women-empowerment!!" She said with a sarcastic smile...

"What happened... is it a joke...??"

"Might be..."

She tried to say more and then put a sudden pause as she just wanted to choke the words coming out of her mouth...

Tell na...you seemed to have something to say... let it come... I want to know...

“Women’s Empowerment! Is it not a big word only to pronounce? Every year Government celebrates one day as women-empowerment day and start envisioning empowerment of women. Male-chauvinism is lying in the DNA of society. It is incurable. I hope when god would again create this world, women will get the equal status as men have.”

He was wondering what happened to her all of sudden. It seems that the fire inside her heart was just being translated into words....

He tried to calm her...and replied confidently but politely...

“I don’t know.............But.... Society is changing.... Our constitution has a provision of gender equality. Women are doing a marvelous job. Government has started new schemes.  Education is changing the attitude of people. Once people get educated, I hope this would do a tremendous change in the structure of society.”

“So you are saying that Education will remove suffering of women. Do you any idea how women are being treated in corporate or any working institutions? Eve-teasing, molestation and vulgar comments have become part of their routine. The person who writes articles about the women-empowerment is charged with molestation. They say dowry is a crime; then can you tell me who is not criminal, even in your 'educated class' people. Society is not changing...it is just disguising...... camouflaging..."

"Oh! Come on...Many people are not taking dowry. Our laws are getting strict. I am running NGO and I know how many such cases have been handled by police."

"Then they must have gifts... :P"

"You are behaving like a misanthropist... I don’t know why? Anyways I cannot justify our society more. At most we can try to make it good if it is bad..."

"I cannot comment. I have lost all my faith to this society and its impotent laws."

As discussion was getting hotter, an old man in his late 60’s entered in the room. His worried face and moving eyes soon confirmed that he was her father.

"What happened to you dear...?" He said as he was about to cry...

"Nothing Dad...Just the weather...Days are too hot"

"Anyways he is Ajeet; he took me to the hospital..."

"Ajeet!!... Ajeet Saxena... (Pause for some seconds)..."

"So you are the son of K.K. Saxena..."      

"Yeah! But how do you know...??"

"I know... just leave it..."

"Thank you so much for taking her to the hospital..."

Saying this, he lost his control on himself and tears trickled through the corner of his eyes... He could not believe that just two days ago the father of same person has rejected the proposal of marriage as he was not able to match his status...If  he could give 2 lakhs more, he would have matched....He did not know if Ajeet knew it or not but he was wondering who is guilty... Ajeet, his father or this Society.   

Those Three Words

I had never imagined even in my wildest dream that one day our two years old-matured-committed relationship would get an end. And it was not a terrible dream. It was a dreadful reality. We had fought many times over trivial issues...and fight was not new...but our break-up was shockingly new. In a moment the castle of love, built in two years was collapsed down and was washed out by the tears of our eyes...

This was no way less than a nuclear explosion. My soul was being constantly stressed out of the body. A fire in the whole body was igniting which was reflecting by my faded-desiccated-wrenched face...

My friend suggested me to have a tour as it would make me feel better. So finally, I decided to go Goa, where I first met her. Might be I could end her memories from where it started. So I took the flight to Goa and next day I was at the calangut beach. It was first time I was alone physically but I knew how hard it was to be alone mentally...Mentally, I was still cursing my fate to fall in love with her...If memories of past could be wiped out...I surely would have done...

I was walking along the beach. The wave, going up and down, on the beach somewhere reflecting our  relationship...Happy moments and then unhappy moments...but every-time this was giving a new strength to our relationship...But this emotional exodus had drowned everything; our faith, our trust, our love...

I was watching every imprint; my feet were stamping on the brownish-wet sand. But there was something absent today...I felt my imprint incomplete, ugly, dreadful and feeble...A symmetry was missing and perhaps I felt absence of her feet which were first time imprinted into my heart at the same beach two years ago...

I felt miserable. As miserable as I have never felt before in my entire life...I got shivered with an unknown and alien sensation...And like a Hindi movie...I felt the need of something that could at least make me to forget all this...

I moved to wine shop...I had never had wine before...So I was nervous what would happen...However, the pain I was tolerating was many times bigger than my nervousness...I said the waiter to make a pack...He asked, “Which one, Sir”

“Anyone...”

For a moment he was puzzled to hear my answer...But soon he said, “Fenny, it would be better for you, sir”

Perhaps he had known that It was my debuted drink...

I drank one pack after mixing it to Limca...I felt weightlessness but still I was conscious...

Again I was at the beach...

I murmured as I was reading a poem,” See the waves near the beach, so amazingly inviting to go and take a jump in the enthralling beauty of existence and satiate the ignited fire in the mixture of the divinity of sun-light and playful bluish water.”

My words were so feeble against the strong yet soothing winds that only I could hear what I said... It was my senses that were being translated into words...abstract for others...but complete for me...

My mind was tempting so vigorously that I could not wait to put my clothes off. I ran against the wind; kissing the wind; embracing and feeling the sweetness and in few moments I was in the sea, caressing gently the water; trying to mingle myself completely; yes, completely...like a drop in the ocean...

It was my best bath I have ever had...It did not only clean my body; my whole conscience was feeling fresh and rejuvenated.

I moved towards my hotel...I saw couple walking on the wet sand grabbing each other’s hand, it reminded me the day  when I proposed her and promised her to be with her in every circumstances...I felt a guilt...A guilt that a fresh and rejuvenated soul could not bear...I did not know who was right and who was wrong...I felt a sudden urge to talk her...But I did not know she would talk me or not...I knew I had broken my promise and I needed to apology...I dialled her number on my mobile...Mobile rang and with each ring my heart was pounding like ebb and tide...And suddenly she picked up the phone...My heart was stopped...I could not speak for a moment... But I had to...With a whispering sound I said, “I am Sorry.” And these three words were many times difficult to speak than those three words I had spoken two years ago on the same beach...But the feeling after this was same...A heavy weight of guilt on my heart was thrown out... As I disconnected my phone, I saw an unchecked message saying “I am Sorry” that had been sent 15 minutes before I called her...

Doctor says that when a broken hand heals...it gets more strength...And fortunately our momentary break-up and make-up made our bond stronger; more resistant...

And one day when I told her about this story...She giggled, “Had you really drunk wine? I cannot believe...looks so bollywoodish...doesn’t it?”

“Yes! I had...but please don’t remind me...I am feeling embarrassed... “

“Really, so do you need another pack?” with saying this...she burst into laughter...

I pretended to have a cold gesture but inside I knew that I was wishing to hear her laughter forever....


Love stories have not always tragic ends...they have happy endings too... :)

A Story of An Old Man

No one knew from where he came and how he was surviving. His big-whitish beard, scattered hair, worn out clothes and his erratic behaviour soon confirmed that he was mentally ill. Outside of colony, people often saw him brushing the ground with the small and thin twig of same tree which had become his permanent shelter. He had an old bag too. No one ever had an idea what was inside it. Someone had given him a bottle and aluminium Tiffin that he put just in front of him and frequently the red monkeys and dogs robbed his food, leaving him hungry and thirsty. Often he talks to himself and it went for longer...Sometimes it turned into cry and sometimes he laughed vehemently. It was hard to predict to see his face what he was going to do...was he about to laugh or about to cry? People passed all day. He never looked at them nor did the people look at him. In the night, the women, who were happy for some personal reason or who wanted to show her sympathetic behaviour to her neighbour or who just inspired by watching “Sanskar Channel” gave him food and water... Since colony was big and most of women were competitively religious...he rarely slept hungry...


It was a very hot day...In the scorching heat, under the tree he was laying as he was counting the number of leaves on the tree. He was not talking as he used to do often. In between the spaces of leaves, rays of sun were appearing like a spear, ready to penetrate the body coming in its way. Insensitive to everything, he, like a dried log, was gazing upwards as he was a broken branch of tree.

It was two in the afternoon. With a dried reed...he was writing something...People were passing but as usual they were ignoring him. But it was something different today...His hands were moving fast...as fast as he had to answer the final question of his life in a very short time. His body was trembling like a just switched off generator. Even in the noise of surroundings...the sound of his breathing, rustling so heavily could be heard... But people were busy and women were in their A.C. Rooms...watching their favourite T.V.Channel...

Now it was five in the evening. Children were playing Cricket. Ravi hit the ball towards the tree. Rishu went ahead to catch the ball. He saw the old man...laying like a lifeless body; grabbing a thin twig with his half closed palms. As he moved forward...He saw something carved on the ground...he tried to read it...

W...A...T...E...R

He pronounced wwaatteerrr. As soon as the meaning of word overrode the sound, he ran towards his home, puzzling his friends who were waiting for the ball to start the game. He went, took a bottle from his fridge...in a second he reached the old man...He tried to shake his body...His body gave a little response...His drowsy eyes opened a bit...His dried lips curved a bit...The boy opened the bottle and poured some droplets of water to his parched and desiccated lips but it did not went inside...It just floated outside. Meanwhile all children rounded him...flabbergasted to see something that they were unknown till now...the TRUTH of life...the END of life...

Soon people gathered around him. It was first time when in his dead body, people noticed that once he was alive...

A dried branch fell on the ground...replacing another one... Only difference was that former would soon be taken...perhaps children would use it to make their new cricket bat...

A Miracle; A Short Story

Some distant sounds; blurring images; fishy smell; sultry and humid air, this was all she could feel. She didn’t know where she was and why she was. After a dizzying and aching period she could feel the touch of water which was irritating to the core, her body looking like a log, put into salty water for a long-time layering against sands and cobblestones.

“Are you Ok... How are you feeling?  “, In between she heard an organic male voice that was so soothing but full of apprehension...she turned her eyes, sensing the direction of sound....

Her eyes remained opened for a moment. He was handsome, must be of her age or might be 2 years younger or older...she felt she had died and he was an angel, going to welcome in heaven...”Oh! Great...Heaven do exist”, she murmured.

“Who are you?” she saw concern and anger on his face as he asked...she realized that she was not in heaven...she was here...alive; fully functioning; could hear; could smell; could see. She looked around. She saw herself on the shore of a river in a desolate and deserted place. As she was becoming conscious, as she was realizing what wrong had happened with her. And suddenly, pulling his hand away from her, she cried hysterically in anger and desperation.

“Why did you do that? You don’t know what have you done?”

“I have saved your life!”

“Saved my life, you have ruined my death.”

“Death! Are you going to commit suicide?”

“No, I was going to get permanent cure of my disease.”

“What disease...Are you suffering? “

“Yes! I am suffering...And death is its only cure...You know, you ruined everything.”

“Don’t puzzle me...Tell me.”

“Am I puzzling you? You have made my life a puzzle.”

She was realizing she was becoming too harsh on him. She felt humiliation in his eyes.

“Ok! Sorry I am being harsh on you.” She cried as she was going to weep.

“Yes! I was going to do suicide. But you know, why? ...Because he dumped me; left me. He had been with me for 2 years and I never thought how filthy he could be...I left my family; my parents; my brother for only being with him and he... was being lovey-dovey with another girl and when I asked...he had a simple answer...we are over!. How simply he answered.” She cried and cried.

“Are you not feeling weird what I am doing here, in this abandoned land?”

Sometimes questions have answers too. She was flabbergasted.

He continued, “When you see someone dying, you realize what it means to be alive and that is what I have learned from your life when you were dying. We cannot choose our life and so we have no right to choose our death.”

He sat down beside her. “Don’t worry...God does not want to make us die...that’s why we met.”

She felt tenderness and affection in his words.

 “Your life is not so cheap that you would lose for any uncouth and dishonest one.” Do you not believe in miracles? You should do. Life is a miracle and when someone snatches one’s life from the abode of death is another miracle. And this is a miracle for both of us. “

He touched her cold hand, she felt the warmth, and it was the warmth of life. When souls meet, eyes begin to speak. A mystical force pulled them close. He wiped away her tears. They embraced, but it was not physical. It was merger of two souls who had found the meaning of life and were dancing to get the rhythm of each other in the music of existence.

P.S. Dear Friends! My blog has been nominated for Indiblogger of the Month in the category of Original Poetry.To Vote click here . You can vote 5 bloggers. I would be grateful if I would be one person to whom you vote...Thanks a lot to Bharathi for reminding me for my nomination... 

Love Conqures All; A Short Story

Heaviness of clouds, stillness of air and frequent roaring of clouds were assuring a heavy rain. On the muddy slippery greenish road, they were running with a fishing rod in their hands. Soon, they were on the bank of river. After searching a perfect place, they put their fishing rods in between the elegies and JalKumbhi, they were incessantly watching the small wooden stick above the water that was sporadically vibrating in the presence of their hunt (fish).

Whole day passed. The two, Prakash and Gita, had caught enough fishes and now they were about to depart. Prakash was Sixteen years old and Gita was two years younger to him. They studied in same school, and despite having difference in their age, they were in same school which was often a subject of pride for Gita that irritated Prakash too much. But, No doubt, they were close friends. Their friendship was as old as they were. At one moment they fought and the next moment they were friends. “Sorry” and “Thank you” were not in the dictionary of their friendship. There was spontaneity, an innocence that brought them always together.

They were in the age in which people begin to see such relationships with their constricted-crassness spectacles in the shadow of pseudo morality. As Prakash and Gita were not of same caste, it was also a grave concern for so called moralist. Soon, their parents were familiarized with this issue which was a hidden threat to both families.

They did not realize when their closeness was dragged apart. Soon they were in different school. Often Prakash saw Gita with her sad eyes in midst to his cousins and siblings in her way to school that made him restless but as he was aware to the consequences he never dared. They did not talk yet both were missing each other. They were missing their togetherness. They were missing the thrill, the joy they used to felt while hunting the fish with their fishing rods. They were apart but their memories were instilled in a way that they could never forget each other.

Time passed. Now Prakash had done Diploma in Electrical, and was now working in private company in Delhi. He was now 22 years old. But still his memories were as fresh as he was just 14 years old, wandering with Gita in rainy days on muddy pavements. Praksah had left the village since he was eighteen and today after getting his job, he was going to his village. His eyes were impatient to see the glimpse of his childhood in the greenery of fields, in the fragrance of its air, in the touch of his 18 years old life. The three years of distance had washed up all the old attitudes of people towards Prakash. Now, he was no longer “Prakash” of the past who was once summoned and challenged for his immoral behaviour.

Soon, the village, the river, the air, the rainy season caught Prakash in his old memories that brought a storm. A storm that could even shook 22 years old man. Whole night, he was not able to sleep. And in the early morning, he decided to meet Gita, disregarding all the consequences.

With the help of his old friends Prakash arranged a meeting with Gita in the evening.

For the next five minutes, neither of two spoke. The silence was broken down by Prakash as he said...

“You are getting married, are not you?”

Hiding her dismay she replied averting her eyes...

“Yes! I am....and what about you” 

“What about me? Are you asking if I am married or not?”

She whispered,” yes! “

“Ok! I am not...I am not going to be in future too...”

There was a conviction and desperation in the voice of Prakash.

They continued their discussion which often turned to sobbing and crying. Finally, they moved to their respective home with unknown feelings and hidden motives.

After 10 Years

It is a sunny morning. A middle age man and woman are enjoying the morning tea in the peaceful ambiance, glistened by red sunlight and scented by the fragrance of refreshing –cool-cozy morning air. T.V. is broadcasting news which is saying about the news of a boy and girl who have ran away from their home despite of different religion and have got married. A riot has broken off. Some people are saying it unfortunate; some are saying Immoral; some are saying it is a religious conspiracy...
But soon it takes the two ten years before when he had hold his hand and still she is feeling its warmth in her life. This was the warmth of their love which made them to face insurmountable difficulties after they ran away from their home. Pearly drops trickles through their eyes. The man puts her hand on her, presses her hand slightly. She feels sweetness, a comfort, an overwhelming shivering in her body. Let people say it good or bad but they know it was the best decision of their life. “Love conquers all”.

Lost Love

*It is a purely fictitious story.Any resemblance to it is purely coincidental. 

“You never realize death until you realise love “

I could not understand this quote until I met her. Yes! There is death because love gives you a new life. I too got a new life, a life full of love and full of wish to live till eternity. I remember when she first entered in class and I, sitting with my back bencher friends was looking so vigorously. I would not say that it was love in first sight but still it was something I never felt in my whole life.

Time passed. My heart got strong to convince me that I was in love with her. My eyes, who were so obsessed with her image were witness. My mind which always remained occupied with her thoughts was another witness. Realizing the sensitivity of my being and strong convincing facts provided by witnesses, I got the final verdict from my heart that I was in love.

“I am in love… But does she like me? Would she love me?”

These were questions that were pinching and trying to bleed my heart. More often, to cover our weaknesses we turn into philosophy. I became a  philosopher. I was happy realizing that love is a state; it need not be mutual; at least nature has given us freedom to love anyone and this is the best gift to mankind.

I saw her when she looked away. I still don’t know why I was not able to see directly in her dark expressive eyes. May be , I was afraid of me; I was afraid of the word ‘love’; I was afraid of rejection.

Finally the day came, we were in farewell party. She looked stunning. But a subtle layer of melancholy was in her face. My heart was beating fast; I could not imagine how I would live without seeing her. I thought that I should express my love to her. But fate had some other things to do; I heard that one of my friends had already proposed her. I was dumbstruck I did not ask what she did. I left the college and tried everything to blot her out from my mind.

Five years passed. I got selected in IIT-JEE and got a good job. I had to visit my native place. I got in the train. I was reading the news-paper. Suddenly, I got shocked on my fate to see her, sitting in front of me. I wiped my eyes many times as I was not sure it was mere my imagination or a reality.She was looking more beautiful in her red Sari. I was very familiar with her dark expressive eyes and it was reality. How could I forget those eyes which were once mirror of my love?

Oh, what was that…She had a mangalsutra around her neck…I was shocked…

“How longer have you been married?”

This was the first question, I ever asked to her in my whole life.

“Oh, you remember me. I thought you would have forgotten me. “

“Two years! You know, Rahul, he is my husband.”

“Oh, it’s great. You had better invite me. I would not have missed it. “

“Really, I never knew you would have so much time to come to my wedding. You were so busy in school days that you got no time to talk to us. But anyways, I would like to invite on my son’s birthday, would you like to come? “

“It’s my pleasure. I would love it. Oh, I really did not expect that you would have son too.”

“Tell me what are you doing? When is your training going to start? “

I was dumb struck how did she know about my training. I even did not tell her about my education or job.

“Training..? It would start from December in Pune. By the way how do you know about this?”

“Everyone is not like you. We have some time for friends too. “

“Friend”… I was like in heaven when she called me friend.

“Friend…? “

“Oh, I am not in a level to be your friend.”

“Please…don’t say this…really! You see me as a friend.”

Silence…there was a pin drop silence…

…This was silence before the storm…

Storm came. It rained. Salty water trickled through the corner of her eyes… moistened her rosy face…she did not speak a word…but her eyes spoke a lot… I could see what I had lost in the tears of her eyes… we got off the train but I am still in the train of her thoughts…

Dear Friends!This is my first attempt at this genre to which I am quite unfamiliar. So thanks for bearing it. :)

Corruption Tree

One day, the great king of great territory announced,” from now onwards, drinking wine is strictly outlawed and if anyone was found drunk, would be directly hanged till death.” The sudden decision of king spread in every nook and corner of city like fire in the forest. People became restless as it was not easy to leave their lifelong addiction in one moment. A group of dignitaries were formed to present their case before the king.

The chief of the group said with a ton of humbleness,” O, Great king! You are mightier in the mightiest. Please let us give some time to leave this addiction. Otherwise half the people of city would be hanged.”

Meanwhile a villager who was standing near the group whispered to his neighbour, “How fool our chief is! Does he not know that king's decision would be valid for a single day? “

To the embarrassment, his neighbour replied in mocking tone,” if you were so intelligent, you would be chief. It is such a serious issue and you, fool, are beating about the bush.”

The villager replied with annoyance, “Don’t you see, king himself is drunk. Do you think that king would like to be hanged too? Once king would come into sense, no longer this decision would be valid.”

King tried to answer the ‘chief’ but to the surprise of courtiers and people, he trembled and fell to the ground and his crown rolled and rolled and hit the feet of the villager.

Analysis:

 What I want to illustrate through this story is the distorted image of corruption of which we are somewhat addicted to. Corruption is more like a banyan tree that grows from the roots but once it is rooted deep it become so hard to drag it up. So the best way to kill the tree is to cut it branches, its twigs, its trunk and slowly- slowly it would get weaker and could be killed.

Corruption in society starts from basic level; like from a village, spreads to higher level. But to eliminate it, it would be better to eliminate it from bigger level to basic level.

How can we expect a thief to leave his act when the police take bribes?

How can we expect from babus to be honest when bureaucrats and leaders at higher level stock illegal money in their Swiss account.

How can we expect a student to be prudent and honest when his teacher himself is not prudent and honest?

It’s the system that is forcing the commoner to become corrupt.

No Corruption-preventive law can be fully utilized unless we start blotting corruption out from the top.

CBI is not meant only for investing and solving petty cases. It is shame for CBI for not to be able to solve bigger cases.  Do you want to read about this more? Click here

*I am not here blaming people at the higher level for more corruption than people, at lower level. I just want to suggest a solution for its prohibition. Individual transformation is required for tackling corruption but I always feel the need of catalyst in form of inspiration and motivation that can be better transferred from people at higher level.

*I have tried my best to write the story congruent to the message I want to deliver. But if anyhow I have not succeeded. Please read it as two separate posts...

A Real Incident

On 16th, I was coming from Kanpur to Varanasi. I got in chaurachauri-express and was impatiently waiting for train to move. As the train moved I moved to the upper birth. I was somehow trying to counteract the clamoring and rustling of surrounding by soft music of my I-Pod. Everything was going well. I could hear the continuous chattering of two girls, political debate of some aged people and a heated discussion between some future doctors ( including my younger brother) and a policeman, on a very popular topic, 'Increasing immorality in younger generation'. As soon as, train reached Allahabad, a mob of thirty to forty guys, aged in between 20 to 30, got in the train like a storm. The atmosphere filled with slang and vulgar words. They started running from one end to other, inspecting every nook and corner of compartment to find a perfect place where they could able to do what they wanted. Unfortunately, just beside me, two of them got the suitable place as just in front of them, a girl was sleeping. They started speaking in their own dialect that appeared so filthy due to their slang and vulgar words. People, around me, were hearing but ignoring probably, because of their number.

Suddenly, one of them asked the girl to give her book, she was reading. She refused. Then, they said rudely," why?” She did not respond. Then they started speaking in broken English with each other in a way to tease her. She covered her face and pretended to be slept. After some time, one of them went to some other place.

Then something started pinching my heart. "Can I only write articles on Eve Teasing or can I do something too?" I began to think the possible solutions and obviously, the first solution came to my mind was to warn them and despite it, they were not following, gave a hard punch on their mouth. In any way I was stronger than two. Well, I am 6 feet tall and have been a regular Gym- freak for 2 years. But soon I realized I am not Bollywood hero and needed some different solution. To be honest, I was afraid, not by two, but by all. So, I followed a different technique.

I asked one of them in a friendly way," Where are you from?"

He replied, “Bairiya."

(I really did not have any idea about this place)

"Oh, it's great place. Many of my friends are from there. Where are you returning from?"

He told me that they were returning from Allahabad where they went yesterday for participating in the selection process of C.R.P.F(Cental Reserve Police Force). But some of them could not pass, even the physical test. Then he started blowing his trumpet. His uncle is this; his brother is that…I hardly listening to him but surely pretending that he was heard. After so many big deeds and good thing, he told about his family, I at once asked," you are from such a good family and from such a good place too. Then, why are you staining the name of your family and place by doing such mean things. Don’t you feel, one day, it might happen to your sister or your mother?"

He grinned with a filthy smile. I hated his disgusting smile.

But, somehow I felt that my technique worked. It is good to increase the people's level at such a standard in their own eyes so that they would start feeling humiliation to do such mean things, at least in front of you. This was exactly what I did.

But everything got ruined as his friend reappeared. He addressed him in such vulgar language that it was unbearable for my ears to hear. I warned to be in limits as this was a train where many civilized people were travelling.

He said, "Kaha jaa rahe hai Aap"

I did not want to answer, however I replied, “Varanasi."

I was amazed why the girl was bearing all this. Why was she not hitting a tight slap on their filthy face? At least, she could share her problem to the people, around her. And definitely, it would have more impact on people than mine.

But, whatever was reason, I have decided that if they tried to cross a threshold limit, I would talk to people around me and I was confident that they would protest by hearing their scornful deeds.

I was bemused if she wanted to tolerate all this and did not want to make hue and cry or really, she wanted to get rid of them.

There are people who think, it would be better to be blind and deaf, like an ostrich hiding his head in sand, than to face. And even, if you try to actuate, you are tearing their stiff cover from their face which could be more painful than to hear all this nonsense.

It might be the prayer of girl to God or just a coincidence, T.T. appeared and when he checked their tickets; all were without tickets. He forced them to get out from the train. With a tumultuous struggle, they got out from the train, restoring civilized and peaceful ambiance. But despite all this, one of them finally threatened the T.T.," you are not doing right by letting me out of the train. You don't know who I am?."

I get puzzled, whenever I think, how these filthy pigs develop so much courage to sit in reserved compartment without tickets; to tease one; to threaten one, without caring that they can be beaten; can be jailed. 

Everything got over but left me with many questions. Can such people defend our country? Are such people worthy to be police? Surely not, it is not physical fitness but mental fitness (character, morality and ethics) is more required to be a responsible police; otherwise cases like rape, bribe, and corruption would be continued for ever.

        

I cannot even consider them animal. I have no word to abuse them.

If I did name disgust, hatred, aversion, abhorrence in one word, surely I would.