Strucking gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
Today's theme is:

WOW- ‘Connect the dots between Cycle, Hotel and Family’

Strucking Gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

Cycle, hotel and family. Three words echoing the reality in the life of Pappu, riding the black cycle, from the slum in Mumbai to the Ritz Hotel in South Mumbai. He started as a cleaner at the tender age of 10 and worked diligently, dedicated himself in the hotel and saved enough money from the baksheesh of the Sahebs to buy himself a second hand cycle. It was his prized possession which he called his 'Black Ambassador. Riding to and fro, braving the sweat and crazy traffic in Mumbai, Pappu's boring life revolves around his cycle, the hotel he calls the second home and the family-Maa, Baba and Munni, his two-year-old sister, who is the apple of his eyes. As he rode the cycle at night fall and early morning, the smile of Munni would miraculously make the tiredness on his face disappear.
It was a usual morning when Munna set on his cycle to Ritz Hotel in Mumbai. He stopped at Marine Drive for a while and sip a cup of steaming hot tea he bought from the vendor, shouting in a coarse voice, 'Chai chai chai..cutting! cutting!' He realized that he reached South Mumbai, earlier than usual by two hours. The time was reset on his modest Reliance handset. Munna was getting bored sitting on the paraphet in the scorching sun. It was 6 a.m. Somehow, he walked on the huge boulders and almost slipped. He fell down and his leg was stuck between the huge rocks. Munna pulled all his might and freed himself. As he was limping his eyes struck upon a shiny object. He looks around to ensure that nobody was watching and tried to pulling the huge boulders. A grey tin suitcase that would have been exhibited as vintage was hiding behind the stack of rocks in ruins. He opened the suitcase and his eyes popped at the bank notes, some crispy and the rest, old notes, ten, 100, thousands. Munna was shit scared at the money that he could have never imagined throughout his life. 
Munna pulled back the suitcase under the boulders and cycled back to The Ritz Hotel and worked diligently till 2 a.m. He cycled back not to home but stopped at Marine Driver, sit for a while and made sure that no eye brows were raised on him. He surveyed the Mumbai Police van where cops stopped for a cup of chai and drove faraway. Not a soul could be seen. The frightened Munna walks on the parapet and quickly slipped beneath the rock. He struggled with the pot of gold that he carried on his cycle and slowly made his way to the slum. As he cycled inside the small lanes in the sleepy slum, he knew that he has just made his life. Munna has big plans for his Munni who will go to a private school. Fate has struck and made his life. He slept peacefully that night for he knows tomorrow will be another day, Cycle, Hotel and Family.

Feeling the pristine beauty of sky, sea and sun

Radiant blue sky,
Blazing sun sparkling its brilliance in all directions,
the white sand on the beach and crystal clear sea water expressing the sheer beauty of life.
I stood motionless, admiring the vivid scenery and images unfurling itself.
Soothing atmosphere depicting the soothing beauty of life,
the heart singing a beautiful lullaby as I feel the relaxed and calm, faraway from the monotony of city life.
Seeking solitude in the magnificence and pristine beauty of life.
A day where I seek together in my own company and soul searching for the real me.
I shall find myself in this solo journey, surrounded by mountains, lush greenery, sand, sea and shining sun.
A gateway to fulfill unlimited happiness.

With Love

Sunday Bouquet of Short Stories

Language of the heart and soul

He stood on the lawn of the plush garden, his tiny hands pointing to the direction of the football and eyes focused on his friend. The tiny toddler muttered to his friend in his baby language, 'I want the ball.' He felt helpless, moaning and burped to his friend, hitting the ground with his naked feet. His mom lovingly pinched his cheek, "What do you want, honey? You just had your cereal." She couldn't comprehend what her innocent son wanted. In the flash of the moment, he smiled when the ball flung at him. Only his friend could comprehend what he wanted. The grey-colored dog wags his tail, dashing towards the swimming tail to clench the ball with his tooth to throw at his young friend. Both were alien to each other's language yet the intensity in their eyes conveyed pure love and understanding.

The Journey of Love
Every single day, they traveled together in the long, tiring train  journey from Borivali to Churchgate. Their hearts longed for each other and their eyes speaking the language of love, making love to each other every single second. Only if the heart and the mind could speak and declare their flame. She was a divorcee, accompanying his son for his guitar class and he, an orphan, who lost his parents to the terrorist attack in Mumbai. No amount of human prejudices and orthodox could prevent them from falling in love, constantly craving for attention as their hands gentling stroking each other. They were not alien to the sensation as the electrons in their bodies run wild. Little did they knew it was their last journey together in the train! She sat next to him and sported her angelic smile which he responded as his eyes and lip moved together. "How I wish I could kissed her!" he wondered. She responded in equal measure, "What are you waiting for? I am all yours and can't wait to get intimate with you. I am longing for love and craving for intimate pleasure." He sensed something amiss when he realized that her son didn't accompany her today. They heard a loud, thumping noise that shook them off their berth as shard of metals cascaded on fellow passenger and, fire blew inside the train. Terrorists planted a bomb that exploded in the train which charred all commuters to death. Police found two unidentified bodies, sticking to each other like glue. Death united them in the bond of love when their existence couldn't bring them together.

The Last Act
'After all, I am a performer on stage and gotta deliver this last act. Love and death doesn't matter,' she courageous tells herself. After shedding bucket loads of tears inside the make up room, she knew that she has to put a facade of happiness, smiling to her audience and look her sexiest best in the designer's outfit. The compere introduced her as the biggest sensation of the year. She traipsed her steps. blew a kiss to the audience who responded with equal fervor going into a trance. She performed a somersault, her curvy and slim-toned body flying like a spiral upward and downward. The audience is in her spell. She is announced as the winner and won the biggest award a performer could only dream for. After all, she longed for this award but was not happy today. She run to her room and closed the door as hordes of admirers, publicists and fans knocked on the door. She checks her cell phone again. How she wished it was a lie. "Your father couldn't survive the surgery and died on the spot. We are ensuring that his body is flown by air at the earliest." She closed her eyes and could envisioned her father holding her tiny hands and carrying her on the shoulder as she cutely said, 'Papa, I love you.'  


Good ole' days of Love Letters

Gotta be the sins of love in the past decade that has almost drown us in the sea of liquor. The pure, unadulterated love giving us a high a la scotch whisky, neat and clean. Whatta feeling, man!!!! Once the gulp of alcohol seeps in the mud, no power on earth can bring it back in our palm. The hand written love letters was our aphrodisiac and alcohol that gave lovers like us a kick as we let the passion run wild to pour our hearts on ink.
Today, everything is written on social media, babying each other and letting the whole world know bout our mushy mushy feeling. Idhar Udhar ki Baatein, wagaira wagaira, not viagra silly. E-love, E love quotes, E-romantic cards aur kya naahin. Agree! Lovers seductively flirt on whatsapp, Gchar and Facebook. Agree! It gives a sense of thrill and excitement when dates are set, behind a screen, making us enigmatic creatures or 'vultures' on the prowl. Kidding!!!
Do you still remember the days of yore when you were struck by the magnetic beauty of the cute girl waiting for the bus? Naam aur Pata maloom nahin tha! She was a mystery to your existence. Or, the super hunk for gals. You survey her moves and confirming that your nameless lover will wait for the bus at this time. Her face haunting your dreams for days, skipping the pulsating heart beats that you feel when seeing her and lacking courage to speak to her. Dhak Dhak karne lage!!!!! The only savior is the love letter. You've decided enough is enough when you weave poetic words, black-and-blue on colorful and love scent pads. You wanna write in absolutely flawless hand writing despite you write like shit in your note book. Racking your brain on what to write on a rough paper, a spine running down your spine in case Mom and Dad just barged in the room, you throw away the paper.
Nah! It's not happening, yaar. You tell yourself. After sitting and moving in frustration, the words flow like magic, borrowing love quotes at the nearest library that you write at the back of your notebook. See, Mr Google was alien to our teenage days and only the nearest library would do the trick. As lovers, we worked hard at it and asking the uncle to find us some love quotes in books. Finally, when it's done, we rush home and write in a lyrical way as if you are talking to the moon in a bid to impress your lady love.The pool word and tasty calligraphy, almost doodling and bearing your heart out, sketching a cute si heart. A day would be spent writing love letter and not signing your name, for fear that her Dad or elder brother would catch you up. 
Remember the days of Archies! The time you would save your hard-earned pocket money to buy her a romantic red-colored card, declaring your flame on Valentine Day. How exciting it was to fall in love, head over heels with her and not with Google Uncles and Aunties, like it is, nowadays! Love letters whipped with salt of passion, masala of pure love and sprinkle of the heart to steer a storm of intensity.
Give me the hand written love letters any day to make love a magical feeling and nothing makes matters of the heart beautiful like in the good ole' days.



The Curious Case of Public Relations

You know what Public Relations people and we, journalists have common? Ahem! Ahem! Grrrr, both of us need each other and we hate in equal measure. A tale of sleeping with the ennemy on the same bed. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that we fuck with passion on bed and, once the act is done, we swear to never ever, kiss and tell. Never do it, Again!!
As a journalist, I had a love and hate relationship with the bunch of PR people. Yeah! I loathe their aggressive way of doing things and hoodwinking us to get their job, scripted by them, bearing our pen. It's irritating. Yet! They say the pen is mightier than the sword.
I agree that the dreaded, PRwale, got a job to do and we not playing an orgy of sort, surrounded by musical chair. But, what gets to me when they invite you to some crap event and insist that we cover the whole thing from A to Z. As a journalist, it's a matter of personal discretion to retain some information and crap some, which will be of interest to my readers. For journalists, what matters is telling a good story and not doing promotion of sort for a brand. You cannot be telling what should I write or not. I am not here to promote your brand or else, I wouldn't be in this profession.
Girl A represents PR Agency X invites me to an event. I keep the story for Friday since we have something special that will be issued on the Saturday for the readers. A keep calling me and insist that the story need to appear on the specific day.
A: When it's coming? We need it asap.
ME: Sorry, we are keeping it for our special issue on 'real estate'
A: No!!! That cannot be. We need it now. I have a boss to answer. (Sounding hysterical)
ME: I am answerable to my boss as well (banging the phone)

I check with my post and, all said and done, we decide to keep the story. Person A sends a press release and, after checking and double checking my facts, the story go on the page. A calls, "Hey! I need a favor. Can you publish the story again?

ME: (Aghast) Again!!! We already published the story.
A: But, I made a mistake on some facts for the events. You need to publish it again. Please! Please! Please!
ME: Pardon me. Mistake was yours, not mine. I shall revert.

Come 2014. I am working for an upcoming magazine for high net worth individuals, read, super rich expats. PR agency Z represents a client and, somehow, I met the latter for an interview, without going through PR Company, Z. Guess, it hurts their ego. The director calls and was sounding so offended that I didn't go through his agency for the interview.

Director of PR 'Z: You know, they are my clients. I am accountable to them and you can't give us a date when you coming out. You are in the wrong.
ME: (sounding a bit flustered): Well!! Err..I understand your concern, Sir. But, I don't agree when you say that I am in the wrong....
Director:.....Blah! Blah!! Blah!!!!
His Assistant Manager calls and try to put me under pressure so that the article goes in the sister publication. After checking with the chief editor of the sister publication, I send an email to their PR executive:

Dear K,

The story was done for our upcoming publication and not 'sister publication.'

If you think, they were done, think again about this sagging tale of hate. Miss Dumbo-cum-Bimbo K calls and try to flirt a bit on the phone. She sucks at it and it shows how lame someone gets. I shoot her down, "K! This is my office phone and let's stuck to business. No! I cannot take it on some other publication. So sorry about that. 

All said and done. I mean, I can understand that you are only doing the job. But, you get on my nerves when you attempt to thwart my pen to get things done. First of all, it makes you so lame and dumb as PR people. One need to draw the line between journalism and PR work. Agree! There should be a healthy work relationships between the two players on both side of the fence but one tries to step on one's foot, this is simply unacceptable. On the top, it's my pet peeve as a professional when someone step on my toes and once it gets to me, you better be prepared mayhem strikes.
However, I must say that I had wonderful work relationships with few PR agencies who charmed me with their professional attitude to work. You respect my space as a professional and I think we can go a long way to cooperate with each other.

Professionally Yours


Stay away from Kiss of Love! Kiss in the name of Gandhi-giri

Kiss of Love, Kiss of Love...Stay away from the Kiss of Love....One, Two, Three, Four...Get on the dance floor. Look at the Besharam! Oh! Lord! Have they no shame! Tauba! Tauba! Polluting Hindustani Sabrata. Kissing openly, smooching and holding each other tight in public glare. What will our elders say? Of course, they should be taught a lesson, beaten black-and-blue to knock some sense in their western polluted minds.
We will slap them and beat them up coz we are the moral 'Saffron' brigade hell-bent in saving our culture.

 We are the moral policing and let them protest..we will hang them in shape. Of course, we will! Coz we hold the monopoly over morality. Call us high handedness. It's either our way or the highway. We are the RSS, Hindu Sena...pyar karo par apni sanskriti ke anusar (Love but within limits of y (our culture) and 'pashchimi sabhyata vaapas jao (Western culture go back).....
Image downloaded on Google India

wah!wah! Ramji! Kaisa duniya hai!! Sanskriti Bachao manj sashaying to the tune of Hawan Karenge, Hawan karenge..kya hai it's 2014 and they telling us not how to kiss but don't do it at all in public glare. See kissing, smooching and making love should be deleted from our dictionary of life coz it's immoral to do it. Sex should be banned! Our guardians of morality will soon upload their own You Tube video, a re-mix of Kiss of Love! Stay away from the Kiss of Love! Bechare Yash Raj Films...Hindu ekta will steal their own franchise and sing a new refrain coz aaj kal ke youngsters polluting Hindu culture.
Images displayed are meant to shock your moral sensibility. 
Sexist comments! That's okay! Terming women as sluts and dented, it's very okay! Kissing and making up in public is not okay-ish at all coz moral brigade tell us. See! They've taken the paternity of universal morality a notch higher to teach us. They storm bars and pubs on V-Day to assault lovelorn couple, go on rampage breaking everything in art gallery and destroy Archies displaying love gifts. Oh! Tauba tauba! Kya baat hai Hindu Brigade morality. They don't have the spine to make a love in their ruthless world of Sangh Parivar! What a parivar swearing by hate! Hum Saath Saath Hai!
Do they get a mental masturbation or what by assaulting couples kissing! Oh! Wait! What did I say masturbation! Chee chee! What ganda words, masturbation and erection! My days in this world are numbered the day Hindu Sangh finds me out! Spewing such venom against Hindu culture. 
Kiss of Love campaign in India: Downloaded on Google India
The dhamki on Facebook telling us not to love and make love. Sexual frustration lurking around with a torch to get inside bedrooms, sneaking on couples making love. Howz about their watching porn in hiding and declaring war against naked couples making out! Tere Badmashiyan aur mere double standard..ho ke rahega milan coz we are against the kiss of love.

We shall kiss and tell our tale of intimacy, libido and smooch to the whole world coz keep it in the closet is so passe. You getting angry! Lassi Pee and thand rakh, like our jovial Sardar-ji will tell you, RSS-walon. Make space, thoda hua ane de..we need space to breath and make love. Getting angry! What can we do? Feeling like breaking furniture! Go and have an orgasm and kiss! No one is preventing you to embrace the kiss of love. I know, you don't have spine! Just do it beneath the white sheet in your bedroom. Live and let live, Oh! Moral Brigade! Who needs your universal morality! After all, getting laid is not such a bad idea, dear hypocrites coz we know you don't like to tell when you visit adda to have some real action in red light area. Mein Laila Laila Chila oonga Kurta Phadwa!!
Kiss of Love, Make Love and Not War.
Let's smooch. You use violence, we shall make love in Public. It's our new Gandhi-giri coz we know how to make love, love and love.
Blowing a kiss of love to you, O' haters of kiss, love and romance


Book REVIEW: MEGHNA is pure entertainment, blissful tale of love

Sundari Venkatraman
Rating: Three and a half
Genre: Romance
Banner: Flaming Sun

When author Sundari Venkatraman contacted me on Facebook to review her book MEGHNA, I jumped on the occasion since I drooled over her last outing, ‘Double Jeopardy and am in awe of her writing style that connects with my soul. I’ve been excited to read and review, MEGHNA, since it’s the name sake of one of my best friend and college pal.
Disclaimer by Sundari:
It's only for entertainment and has no special value like Double Jeopardy
So don't look for one :D


The young and dashing Rahul Sinha lives in England with his parents, Shyam and Rajni. Rahul is exulted with his efforts at work paying off and plans a holiday with his best friend Sanjay Srivastav who lives in Mumbai with his wife Reema, kids Sanya and Rehaan and most importantly, his sister, Meghna. Rahul recalls meeting Meghna just before they parted six years ago. 
Meghna who teaches modern dance for the pure love of it is thrown for a toss when Rahul comes visiting. She had thought he had forgotten them.
Thus begins the story between Rahul and Meghna, the teasing, the flirting, the anger, the tears… …will they find love? 


Author Sundari Venkatraman has the knack of story-telling that captures your attention from start-to-finish and writes in a unique style that makes you relate to the characters etched in her world of ‘romance.’ The best thing about the writer’s style that she writes in a simple language that connects with the youth. This is what makes MEGHNA works. However, I feel it somewhat falls short of expectation if I compare Meghna with Double Jeopardy. Nevertheless, MEGHNA is a smart read, weaving tale of love that will make you connect with the world of Meghna and Rahul. Thus, the author is successful in telling a good story and injecting the right dose of love, emotions, sadness and drama, like our Hindi movies pot boilers. It’s enough to say that Sundari Venkatraman has concocted pure entertainment to break the routine in your life. Grab it for the pure joy of reading this tale of love.


What makes MEGHNA works is the chemistry among the main protagonists, Rahul and Meghna.  The characters, Sanjay, Reema, Shyam, Rajni and, of course, Prashant and Aisha add to the drama that unfurls to set your pulses racing like the Mumbai local trains. The plot does suffer at times when the narration loses steam and grip. However, the author swiftly hit the right nail by sprucing up things through the ‘wicked characters’ of Rajni and Aisha and drama with Meghna running away in the plane. This is the mark of a good writer who feels that when the balance is not tilted in favor of the book, she injects drama in a timely fashion to lift the narration to pique the readers’ interest. We want to know what will happen next and the novel recovers at the right time. I feel that the main characters, Rahul and Meghna are sketched in a detailed manner which one can easily relate to.  

Extracts: The Tango Lines

Dialogues are a forte of a good novel and this is where Sundari Venkatraman scores a high note.

“Meghna was just the perfect name for her. Her grey eyes reminded him of dark, rain-bearing clouds. The lightning temper in her eyes and the thunder in her expression added to his conviction. Just now the grey eyes were smiling guilelessly up at him…Rahul found her lips again and gave her a deep, soul-searing kiss. His tongue danced a tango with hers and both were gasping for breath as they came up for air…..Meghna thought that she had been the only one mooning about her love over the past years of staying apart. The sense of having found a kindred spirit grew by the second.

What’s Not!!!

1.      The miss-and-blink characters of Prashant and Aisha. Perhaps, both should have been developed further and given an extended leash to build up suspense.

2.      Post the break up towards the climax, I find Meghna melt a bit too easily into Rahul’s arms. How about playing hard to get?!

Final words:
 Sundari Venkatraman’s MEGHNA is a light, fun-filled read that comes like a breath of fresh air. The objective of entertainment has been attained to make the heart dance to the tune of love and romance. Sundari Venkatraman is among the few authors that struck a chord with the masses and the intimate scenes cum sexual tension is dealt in an effective manner, something very few authors can narrate in a sensitive manner. She lends credence to the adage, ‘sensuality, intimacy can be told in a dignified and beautiful manner.
At one glance: Sundari Venkatraman’s MEGHNA is a smart and joyful ride.

The book can be purchased on http://www.amazon.in/dp/B00KUPUURS/ and the author can be reached out to on http://sundarivenkat.wix.com/flamingsun/ https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSundariVenkatraman


Fireworks of dreams and love

Festive season ushering to fresh dash of leaves and renewing new hopes for happiness, joy and love;
Earthen lamps lighting our lives, re-kindling optimism,
Christmas carols and gifts strengthening bond in the heart capable of love and melting our senses;
Bursting Crackers of unlimited happiness,
It adds zing to our life;
A tale of making dreams come true, where we leave behind the disappointments and deception,
as we get set to embrace the world and never shy away from falling in love;
We deserve happiness and shall never say no to surprises reserved by life to our existence;
A promise that we shall live life to the fullest as our eyes sparkle at the magical moments thrust upon us;
Scripting churning new horizons in the ocean;
A time to hold each other’s hands and making new bonds;
Let’s marvel at the display of fire-works springing in the sky.