ANONYMOUS

The breeze seemed to sweep away his thoughts. He was trying to concentrate on his shoes. That way, he needn't look into anyone. This wasn't new. He always did that.

Joy. He was a nobody to anyone who'd see him for the first time. With ordinary looks and a polite, shy demeanour- hardly anyone would find him interesting. He wasn't very tall- neither too short. He was neither dark nor fair. He was neither too smart nor dull. Joy. A man- among many men.

Joy's life started with an alarm. A tea and news paper were his companions during the morning hours. A hasty shower; he usually boarded a crowded bus to work- A man among many men.

His job usually left him with plenty of time to think. A dusty office, and a name plate that read-"Joy Kumar, M.A.,B.L (Advocate)", hardly fetched him any client. He had never had a chance to know, how good a lawyer he was! He was anonymous.

Anonymous, the nameless, or- "Anamika". Every one knew Anamika. A wizard. A creator. A writer. Everyone adored Anamika. No one had ever seen her. Or him! But everyone knew Anamika. Her words were her identity. Or, his!

"The Messiah", everday, would receive a new story. A white cover- with the address typed over it. Inside, a short story- story that no one had ever heard of. Neatly typed, and neatly folded. "The Messiah" itself, wouldn't sell even one copy, if it weren't for Anamika's stories! People were dying to meet her. Or him!

4th of June. "The Messiah" had a news that excited its readers. "Anamika would reveal herself"! It read.

"The Messiah" threw a grand party. Only guests were allowed. These guests were those who hardly ever read Anamika. They wore designer clothes and attended fancy parties. A large crowd- outside the hotel, were calling out- demanding to get a glimpse of Anamika.

Sumit- a handsome man in his thirties. He was smart and people adored him, wherever he went. Sumit- a lawyer, a writer, a celebrity.

The crowd applauded. They now knew, finally, whom they had admired. Who had captured all of their imaginations. They cheered. They didn't want him to leave. Almost, everyone was smiling. There was one, however, who didn't join the celebrations. Who did not look happy about seeing Anamika.

Sumit had achieved what he had always wanted. He wanted to be famous. He knew, he'd be famous. He'd do anything to achieve it.

Later, that night, Sumit sat looking at the old diary. He turned its pages. ANAMIKA. The first page had captured his attention, the moment he read it. He remembered very well- the November night- a few years ago- he was in college. He had nicked it. From whom- he did not remember. All that he remembered about the boy was that- he was a nobody!

A knock on his door. Sumit thought- "Fans! They are so silly"!

The morning breeze seemed to sweep away his thoughts. He was trying to concentrate on his shoes. That way, he needn't look into anyone. This wasn't new. He always did that.

Joy came to a halt in front of a small shop. He purchased a tea and news paper. He walked into the park and sat over a bench. He sipped the tea and flipped
the paper. It read- "Anamika murdered!"...

A TAG AGAIN!

"5 cadres of people, whom I love to hate"!

Thank you, Arjun

I normally avoid it when some ask me this question- "whom do you hate"? I used to think that "hate" is rather a powerful word, not to be used, unless one really means it. But recently, I had been unfortunate enough to meet all these categories of people. I used to boast, until a few years back (read- before I met the characters) that I can never "hate" anyone. But, I was proved wrong- thanks to these "wonderful souls"- who've irritated and frustrated me in every single way!

Please note: Friends, who know me personally- this is for you: "You know who "they" are. And you can always ask "them" to visit my blog and comment"!

They talk like a kid
who's barely known the world
The silver on their hairs- shine;

They boss me around
and force me to frown
And claim aloud- "Oh! you're mine"!

All day long
they warm up the benches
Gossiping aloud- grinning;

They boast of their greatness
they let not, one speak
Subtle- they play: cunning!

Them, I hate
I hate them all
But not more than those here:

Traitors, who betray
the trust I hold-
And sell my faith for pleasures, mere!

I tag:

Padma Priya

Arvind

Vrinda

ICE AND THE TRAIN

The crowd. It seems to move so fast. I wish I knew why. Neither they stop, nor do they pause. They keep walking without a goal- or so it seems to me!

The taste of the ice can do wonders. It had changed the way I usually thought about things. Or is it because, I just feel so happy today? I was going out with my mom after such a long time!

Granny never lets me go anywhere. Nor would she get me ice candy. “What if you fall ill”? She says. I don’t like it at the Granny’s. Wish mom would take me along with her, this time, at least!

Mom is so pretty. Today, in particular. A white and green saree. Smiling at me always and holding my hand.

We moved fast. We ran. If not, we would miss the train. Fast, fast and finally, into the Ladies’ compartment!

I heave a sigh of relief. I lick my ice candy. So pleasant it tasted after that run! I turned to look at mom.

I find a woman wearing a white and green saree. But she wasn’t my mom. I turn around. Right, left, everywhere. There was crowd, but no mom. The ice was melting.

The ice froze in my heart. It was not pleasant anymore. It brought water in my eyes. I couldn’t see properly. I was crying- “Mom… mom..”! Only, no words ever came out. The last bit of ice, which stuck on to the stick, fell down.

The crowd would not care if I was lost. They would neither stop, nor would they pause. More water from my eyes. It kept flowing down. It made me go red- both on the inside and the outside. The ice on the floor had turned into water.

“Bharath”! I heard someone shout. I turned around. Mom was running towards me. She was crying too. The ice had left my heart. I was holding my mom. And, she lifted me off the ground. We were both crying. No, she was laughing, too. And I laughed with her.

I was clutching the ice candy. I was licking it. My lips were red. As soon as the door was opened, I rushed in and hugged Granny. She was smiling. She bent down and kissed me. She asked, “Had fun with mom”? I said, I did and smiled. Mom saw me smiling. She smiled back. I was happy.

THE UNTRODDEN PEREGRINATION

The gates were open at both ends. And I had made my choice. I was never sure about where that gate would lead me. Yet, I was sure that my choice was correct and I'd be welcome, in there.

A bunch of blank faces- blank as mine, staring curiously at me, as though I were some alien creature, without realizing that they too were a part of the same kind of species- I found myself thinking; and smiling to myself, I get to know them.


But as I spoke to them, I found out that these species had some name. A beautiful name. Friends. And soon, there were many. Friends, friends, and more friends- all over.

Then there were lessons- some boring, a few interesting and yet a few more- bitter. I was now a student in the institution called- life. And each lesson, had something to say.

The roads ahead weren't smooth. A few pits and a few helping hands; a few smiles and a few tears. But these roads never let its traveler stop and rest. Even it's pits, had paths, which let those, inside it- move on.

People. A few good and a few- better. But each of them had a role to play. People. Some- who helped me just go on, and a few more- who helped me travel better. People. A few, who moved ahead; a few more- who stayed behind. And a few- moving along.

My peregrination, had come to an end. And the gates have been opened again. But outside this gate- yet other choices, await. More friends and more lessons. A longer road and lethal pits. But I move along now, not uncertain- but sure of where it'd lead me to. With the lessons of the past- to build my future; I move along- still, as a student: In an institution called- Life!

TAGGED!

Thank you, "rampantheart"..

10 things I miss in my life right now:

I am not someone who’d “miss” anything. For I believe that one must grow with every past towards the future. But right now, the 1 thing that I really miss the most is my college! How I miss attending classes for the sake of “attendance”. Shouting for “free hours”, assignments, late submission, arguing with the staff, playing with friends, “Industrial visit”(read- picnic), etc. I wrote this poetry on 17^th April, for 16^th was our last working day. I dedicate the poetry to my Section- C and to all those people, who like me, are missing their life at college!

Tears on eyes
have not yet dried
nor has the smile left me- yet.
Memories are fresh
like the dew at the dawn
and still make my eyes- wet.

The teasing of friends
assignments and tests;
Proxies, bunks, pranks and rest.
Give me back- Oh life!
those days of fun
of friendship and fights, yet fears- none!

One day in future
I want, in life, a day
With friends, in college, all happy and gay.
I want no more
Yet-I want nothing less
I want it with all heart- true enough, I guess?

10 things I want to achieve within a decade:

There are many things that I wish to achieve. But I believe that people wish different things at different times., that is, their needs, aims and goals keep changing as they change. If you’d have asked me “Which is your favorite profession”? when I was in my 1^st standard, I would have replied “Bus conductor”! For, believe it or not, I used to be really fascinated by the way they move without even getting the hold of the rods provided even as the bus is in motion! Besides, I loved the way they held in hands, the “tickets” and distributed it!

So, now, I wouldn’t say it for sure, for these may change. So, right now, the things I wish to achieve are:

1) Read all those books that my dad has read so far, and then read more.

2) Improve my writing skills.

3) Someday, in future, try my hand at writing a novel and getting it published.

4) Contact Adnan Sami (Singer/Music Director) , Jotika/ Kareena Kapoor (Actress) and enquire them about their dietitians.

5) Find a good music teacher and continue my music lessons.

6) Play as many number of musical instruments as possible.

7) Become a polyglot.

8) I am already working of becoming ambidextrous. But I still need to perfect my skills.

9) Become a better human being.

10) Seeing to that that I wish for more and better things in future.

Now, I tag:

Karthik

Suchitra

Vidhya

Vanilla sky

Nithya

M I N D

Stubborn, yet wavering

Mighty, yet light

Formless and shapeless

It travels alone

Defying space-

Silent and fast

It defeats time-

The absolute truth.

Make it stop- they cry

The fools who fool themselves.

But it travels only to seek wisdom.

Breaking the layers of thoughts

Past the veil of memories

It flies on..

To seek, the Self.

Let it fly- wherever,

Till it flies- forever.

DEATH OF HATE

- “It eats and it is eaten”

A scowl that gave birth to a spark. A spark- that grew in size. Burning every bit of flesh it could reach out to. Tearing it down. Bit by bit, the flesh is cooked.

No shriek comes out. And the fire doesn’t stop. It crawls too slowly. Leaving out nothing. Its tongues tasting the meat.

It urges to kill. To taste pain. For nothing else, would make it stop. It relishes pain- the fire. And it prepares the meat- to taste the pain. Pain- not of the self. But of that cause of the scowl. That cause that lit the fire- which fuelled it. It urges the meat to finish the cause.

The meat feels helpless. It wants to finish the cause. But can’t. For, the cause, is in a cocoon. A cocoon, that can never be broken into. The meat burns- hoping that someday, the cocoon would break. And that day, it would finish it; with sheer strength, and no other weapon.

It wanted to relish in the pain of the cause- like the fire. It wanted to see the cause struggle. Hear it shriek. A shriek- that the meat could never let out. It wanted the cause to do it. Only then, the meat would live.

The meat was now coal. Red hot. Burning. But the cocoon was intact. The meat never saw the pain. It could never stop the fire. And soon, it’d be ash: A part of the soil; lost- forever!