Blessing from the sky

Drizzle of rain sprinkling the city,

as black umbrellas occupies space.

Standing in the busy streets to get a peek of the first shower seems like blessing from the sky.

It's heavenly bliss.

Breaking the surface of heat,

the God of rain is providing respite.

Prayers are answered,

as cool atmosphere seeps in.

Who says the force of nature is ruthless and kind?

It feels like blessing has come earlier this season.

Momentary joy as city dwellers indulge in moments of happiness.

With Love

Vishal

Letter to my Love

Dear Love,

As I write this letter to you, it makes me wonder whether it's the best thing to pour my feeling to you. Ah! I can sense what going in your head. Confused!!! Why you are reading this letter? There are certain things that I cannot pour out or open my heart to tell in person. The letter helps me to be true to the self and tell how much I love you. True, things are far from rosy between us. We are going through a rough phase and I guess this happens with many relationships.

I want to save our relationship and, trust me, my optimist heart tells that we will reach our destination in this beautiful journey of love. There are so many things that I wanted to tell you, how I felt when you ignored my calls, sms-es and when you were chatting to your pals or the handsome guy as if I don't exist at all. I felt bad and your silence is killing me. It makes me hyper and awake throughout the night. After all, why I am doing that? Is it worth it?

 I believe in our relationship. Till, you don't say anything that bugging you, I won't be able to to take on the world. I need your support. Together, we are force and your existence competes me as a person. Fine, you want me to take on the world but alone, I don't think it's possible.

I am so confused at the turn our relationship is taken, your dreaded silence and mood swings. To be very blunt, it irks me to no end. Sometimes, I feel that we will make it and sometimes no. Why things has dramatically changed between us. Is it the weather or our tastes? After being with each other for long, have we discovered we are so different rather than similar? Such things are killing me slowly. You know that. I want to see the real you. At least for once, we can be truthful to each us, no matter how much it hurts our ego and feel that it may jeopardize our relationship.

We've spent priceless moments with each other, dancing in the monsoon, kissing at Marine Drive, holding hands, laughing like crazy, doing stuffs in full glare that people thought we run away from the asylum. We've carved Kodak moments live that will always stay with us. I am convinced about it and hope the feeling is mutual for both of us.

I still remember the first time we met when I asked to share the table at the sea-faced restaurant. You were my saving grace since I wanted to have a smoke with my coffee. We laughed and smoked together. How you made a straight face when I asked for your phone number. If only looks could kill, I would have been dead by now!! We sat together on the boulders where the waves crashed. You held up to me. I can still feel your fragrance when our eyes meet, our lips melted into each other's mouth. We held hands and became physically intimate without realizing how our hearts met. Perhaps, we kissed much before we fell in love with each other. The kiss sealed our fate. I knew on the day that we have a deep and soulful connection that only tragedy could tear us apart. I felt emotionally drawn to you. It was the best day of my life. It was magically divine.

We fought with each other. it turned ugly at times but we mollycoddle each other with sweet nothings. cute whispers and lots of laugh. I love the way you fling things in anger and the sheepish smile that makes me fall in love with you over and over again.

Perhaps, we need to break off from each other for a while, work out our priorities in life and relish our personal spaces. Sometimes, silence may after not be so bad if it works for you. I would like you to reach this expressive letter and take call on our relationship. I shall always love you.

PS: This letter is a fiction and bears no ressemblance to any person nor it's inspired by someone's love or break up story.

Cheerz

Vishal

Small stride towards the greatest moments

Illusion bearing foot prints of a life relished,

every moment and seconds of fulfillment.

The heart never lies,

the mind plays havoc to the soul's quest for truth.

A clash of the mind and the soul,

at loggerheads with each other.

It's a pack of lies,

striving to reason the inner self,

reaching for the moon is within reach.

The inner truth eluding farther,

stars are just a manifestation of the mind.

Standing at the crossroad of life.

languishing at the miscue,

missed opportunities of life,

we go back to the book.

A new start, swimming against the tide,

riding on the storm,

a small stride towards human happiness and building the pillar of human growth.

Live in the moment,

it may be steps away towards the future we crave.

It may take a life time.

With Love

V

India! India! Jashne Hai Jeet Ka

Image credit: Google India

Jashne hai Jeet Ka,

Stomped the rivals,

Men in Blue strike, hitting sixers and centuries.

It's the World Cup.

We go gaga over cricket, no matter how much we loathed some of our guys in the game.

Victory over Pakistan is always delirious and taste like we are already champs.

We die for victory.

When we make six outta six,

we finish pints of beer as if we already won the World Cup.

It's national hysteria.

India becomes one.

We become nationalistic and patriotic.

Work can wait, tasks can be screwed and sex can wait.

It's World Cup.

we are a nation of worriers, 

we wobble at threats from the adverse camp,

yet when we seal the win,

Image Credit: Google India

we go berserk and worship our heroes.

After all, we are a country of hero worship.

Our victims,

the head rolling as we take a dig,

First Pakistan and now South Africa!

This time not for Africa.

It arms us with belief, no matter how unreasonable that our rivals will fall like rotten mangoes.

De Ghumake!

Turn around and hit the ball with power,

let the force make the ball spin and travel.

Ooh! Aah! India!

It's cricket.

Come on, India and keep the winning streak,

Men in Blues.

Let's win it!

Bubble of the heart burst

Numbed I was when we parted ways.

It hardened me like a rock that I swear of never falling in love again. 

Leaving everything for a new city, I was a changed person.

From selfless to ruthless.

Yet the very thought about you, melted my heart.

I asked myself, who were you? An enigma,

Why you came into my life?

Only to inject pain and bruises?

I languished, losing  my identity, cursing myself for falling in love where the language of the heart knows no reason.

The long walks, laugh and innocence all seemto be an illusion.

The days where I grew helpless and restless.

Time is a big healer,

Yet, I thought I'd never survive without you.

The bubble of the heart burst,

The pain is lost somewhere,

Perhaps it's needed to find the path of joy and self discovery.

Love can be the biggest teacher

A Valentine Love Story: A bride in search of love (4)

Fourth and Final Chapter:

Siddharth and Shefali married in Goa. The bride was dressed in a white skirt and her groom wore a simple red Kurta. They didn't want to give their marriage a religious meaning and no priest was called to perform the rites. It was their way to be one with each other inside the hotel room at Calangute. They playfully sprinkled Vodka on each other calling it 'holy spirit of love' and garlanded flowers on their necks.
Our witness and priest is 'Saint Valentine,' they kept telling each other.  We don't need religion to define our relationship to each other, Siddharth whispers in the ears of his wife. She took a bite of his ear. "Ouch, it hurts," he protested.
She walked barefoot on the sand towards the still water in the night to enjoy the silent flow. She asked, "You won't ask about my past before I married Anand? Siddharth smiled, "You know, Shefali. I don't belong to the types of men who question their wives about their past relationships, who they slept with and whom they are going to meet. Love needs trust. This Valentine, let's take a vow to always love each other and be there during the rough and tough times. We shall not doubt each other."
She pinched his cheek, "I love your chubby cheek. You are like a baby, Siddharth and I enjoy mothering you with love and affection. That's what I like about you. I had ex-es and we had sex a couple of times and I will never lie to you because then, our relationship would be built on a week foundation."
She moved her lips but the groom pressed his finger on her mouth. "Let's forget the past. It's of no use to us. This Valentine let's look at our present and future together."
They sat in silence together, admiring the stars and boats standing still in the water. A light breeze wafted and stroke their hair. Holding hands like teenagers and smiling to each other, they were locked into each other's eyes, finding happiness and deep passion. They didn't kiss each but their souls made love.
As they walked away from the beach, Shefali kissed his cheek and said, "Look at the stars in the sky. Aren't they beautiful?"
He nodded with a smile. She asked him, "Close your eyes and make a secret vow. They say that whatever you ask the stars is granted."
He gazed at the stars, "I've already asked which is mine."
They held each other's waist and walked inside their hotel room and made passionate love to each other that night. It was their best Valentine Day. Love can come in unexpected package when we least expect it. Never say No to the most beautiful feeling, their eyes conveyed to each other.

The end

PS: It's a fictitious story and doesn't to any person, living or dead, in faraway corner of the world.

Happy Valentine Day
Vishal

A Valentine Love Story: A bride in search of love (3)

Chapter 3:

The door creaked open. Siddharth and Shefali were oblivious of the preening eyes, engulfed in a passionate kiss. Siddharth pulled off her white blouse and Shefali run her fingers on his hairy chest. Both of them were semi-naked, Shefali sat on the kitchen table and Siddharth was holding her naked waist.

A screeching female voice blew their ears and a violent fist banged on the table. It was Anand.

Both lovers were shaken and they were hit by fear paralysis. Before they could recollect themselves, they were aware of the sandstorm that is going to rock their lives. Anand and Siddharth parents nearly fainted and their mother was in tears. "What a shame," she cried. The father looked away, spoke loudly, "It's a shame and I cannot even dare to look at both of you. Anand slapped Shefali hard, "You woman of loose character, bloody slut, getting fucked by your brother-in-law." The slap resonated so loud in the kitchen and as Anand tried to raise his hands a second time, he was stopped by his younger brother.

"Bhaiya, I respect you. The next time, you try to hit her, I won't hesitate a second to forget that you are my blood," the younger one said, clenching Anand's fist.

Anand was too shocked to react and nearly collapsed. Their mother gasped, "Siddharth." She indulged in drama which she borrowed from serials, "What spell this whore has cast on you? Both of you have violated all social limits, a sister-in-law sleeping with brother-in-law. Both of you should be ashamed."

Siddharth held Shefali hands and before walking away, he turned towards his parents and brother, "It is a fact that we love each other. Shefali has gone through a lot in life and she has always sacrificed her happiness for her parents and Anand. Anand walked towards them and grabbed Shefali's hands, "I am not going to let her leave this house."

Siddharth menacingly pointed his hand towards Anand, "Bhaiya!! I am warning of you. Let go of her."

Anand grew violent and shouted in frustration, "Siddharth, you are just a kid. Get off me and don't interfere between husband and wife." Anand was hurting Shefali and Siddharth calmly walked towards his elder brother and punched him hard on his face. Anand yelled in pain and collapsed on the floor.

Both lovers walked away from the house. Anand parents were too stunned to react.

***************************************
Shefali fought her parents on phone, yelled her lungs out and placated them not to interfere in her life. The drama reminded Shefali of soap opera and she blew her top on her parents, "There is no point for any family reunion with Anand's family, you guys and us. Maa!! Do me a favor and stop speaking about being dutiful or loose morals. Don't get me started on the whole thing. Both Dad and you are the biggest hypocrites. You are telling me how I've failed you and I have loose morals. Let me tell you that I have sacrificed my happiness for your so-called family honor when Nita eloped."
Her mother was at a loss of words and any attempt to make her daughter see reason failed. Her Dad grabbed the phone, "Shefali!! I am warning you for the last time. If you don't go back to Anand and your in-laws, you are dead for us."
Shefali retorted, "At least, it's better to be in a dead relationship than living a life filled with filth and lies. Thank you for reminding me that your pride, ego and society's hypocrisy matters most to you than your daughter's happiness. You always wanted a hypocrite like Anand, a dutiful son, a Mama's boy and Oh! the great sacrifice, taking the moral high ground."
She yelled, "Why can't you guys understand that I never had any relationship with Anand? It's a dead life and full of lies we've lived for all these years. After all, I will not sacrifice my happiness for anything in this world. To hell with your traditions. Fine, if I am dead for you guys. I am not going to go back to the house where I have to speak to the wall and be non-existent to the man who see nothing in me. I was an object, his arm candy to show the world."
She banged the phone. Siddharth walked in, "I spoke to Mom and Dad. They are not seeing reason and what matters to them is their ego. By the way, I overheard your conversation with your parents. There is no point, going to meet them since they are blinded by their beliefs."
Shefali faked anger, "How can you overhear someone's conversation?"
He teased her, "Not someone, my better half and soul mate."
Shefali broke in a laughter and Siddharh bend on his knees, held a turquoise ring, "Shefali!! Will you be mine forever?"
She was in tears, "I am and will always be yours."
Siddharth threw two air tickets on her face and she stammered, "Oh! My God!! G-o-a!! When!!"
He smiled, "Now! In two hours, we are taking the flight. We got no time coz tomorrow is Valentine and we gonna get married on our own, minus a priest."
They kissed, tasted every inch of each other's lips, the mouths stuck like glue. They couldn't believe what was happening and closed their eyes.

A Valentine Love Story: A bride in search of love (2)

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A Valentine Love Story: A bride in search of Love (1)

Valentine Day is round the corner. I am coming up with a novella and today I write the first chapter exclusively for V Day. Read on:

A Valentine Love Story: A bride in search of Love (1)

The coy bride, slowly walked inside the room, decorated with flowers and spread her body on the bed facing the door. OM was sprinkled with red roses and genda on the door. She silently lay on the nuptial bed where her world turned upside down in 24 hours, sacrificing her happiness for the stranger, with whom she took the vows of marriage.

Dry tears rolled on her cheek. She is persuaded that love is an alien feeling that has run away from her existence. How she wished the light were turned off? She longed for darkness and silence where she will be one with her identity which no man can dare touch.

The groom, decked in crimson Sherwani, wearing gold bangles walked to her. He gave her a sympathetic look, his eyes and lips, conveyed gratitude and thank you. After all, she saved his honor. He gentle touched her face with make up, caressed her lips and his teeth moved up the string on her Jodhpuri red saree, untied her blouse. Slowly, he removed the gold bangles and necklace. The groom hesitantly kissed her on the lips, ran his hand down from top to bottom, caressed her belly and moved his mouth on her nipple.She didn't react but breathed in pain and agony.

He opened her tiny legs, before he entered her. She yelled in pain and not one tear dropped from her eyes. He pulled his trousers and dropped dead on the bed. She moved out of the bed and sat throughout the night on the sofa.She felt the huge body entering not only inside her but pushed through her soul, without permission.

Three Years Later:

Shefali led a dark existence, often speaking to the wall in the house when Anand would leave for work. Her husband never communicated to her and sharing few light moments was a luxury that she couldn't afford. The silence killed her. How she longed for him to make love to her, surprising with flower and looking intensely at her face. The only time that Anand and Shefali would converge was during the night when the latter would occasionally hold her, entering inside her body. She thought, 'Though Anand never forced himself on me nor ill treats me, he never asked my permission for sex. I was his legitimate fuck.' There were times when she wanted to kill herself but that would be the easiest route to escape life.

She felt a gush of freedom when Anand told her that he is being transferred to United States for work. Her parents-in-law who are still traditional, living in a different city, pressed on their younger son, Siddharth studying in the same city like Shefali to survey his 'Bhabhi' moves and inform of any wrong doing. Siddharth would pop on and off every week, striking innocent conversation with Shefali Bhabhi. Soon, they became friends. Shefali found him to be sensitive, miles apart from his elder brother. The five-year-gap between Shefali and Siddharth didn't deter their friendship from blooming. They discussed Siddharth's ex-girl friends, studies, naughty childhood days and Shefali opened about her past life. Laughing together about life.

"Do you need to call me 'Bhabhi' always?" Shefali asks.

"Honestly, I feel like calling you Shefali only. We are friends and would be lying if I say that there should be any formality between us. Shefali, you are the friend that I never had. His finger approached hers' and at first, she moved her hands away, before leaning closer to him. She held his hands. They were not in control of their feeling and no power could stop the attraction between them, breaking all convention-cum-moral barriers.

"You never told me about life in college. Any special guy that was part of your life?"

She smiles coyly, "Of course, there were before I got married. I wanted to become a model and still have the sexy black skirt I bought for the fashion show. It was stupid of me to buy the dress. I never had the guts to participate in the show because I was scared."

He naughtily asks, "I want to see you in the dress."

Shefali resists but after the insistence of Siddharth, she relents. "On one condition, you will never tell anyone about it."

He promises not to let anyone know. Minutes later, Shefali walks out of the room to dazzle in the short skirt. Siddharth intensely looks into her eyes, as she approaches towards him. She longs for love as she caressed his cheek, seductively raising her leg towards his face. Shefali walks towards the sofa as Siddharth gently kiss her lips, removing the skirt, caressing her hand and legs, kissing her belly. She wilfully opens her legs and he enters her. Shefali moans in pleasure and felt for the first time that her crave for love and pleasure is being fulfilled. Her heart was singing the song of love and thought, "So, what he is the brother of Anand? I sacrificed my life for him and what I've got out of it. I screwed my life. To hell with society."

As they lay on bed, Shefali asks, "Do you love me, Siddharth?"

He turns towards him, "You are the one that matters the most to me. I will pull all strings to give you love and don't want to see a tear in your eyes. I know, it's the most difficult journey for us. But, we shall arrive, even if it means fighting my parents. I wanted to ask: How did you agree to marry 'Bhaiya and I mean couldn't you say no if you never loved him."

Shefali angrily jumps out of the bed, "We promised not to talk about it."

He held her hands, "If we never speak about it, I would never know. Shefali! I need you support and without you, we can never fight society. Let's be truthful to self and rather than living a life of lie.

They sat in the kitchen as Siddharth made two cups of steaming hot coffee. She narrates the story that changed her life.

I saw Anand for the first time when he came home to meet Dad who was his teacher. Dad always wanted Anand as his son-in-law, morally right and religious. He saw in him the ideal son he never had. I was dating someone in college. There was nothing serious just the thrill of adventure, kissing, making out and running away to Goa. We lived in the moment. One day, Dad came home with ladoos to announce the wedding of my elder sister, Nita, who resisted the marriage at first since there was someone in her life. Finally, after threats from parents, Nita agreed for the marriage. It was the day when my life changed.

V

Dear Barack (Sirrr)!!! Yes We Can

Dear Barack (Sirrr!!!)

I know what you are thinking about your India visit, gushing at Lal Qila and India Gate. You must be biting your nails and curse yourself, wishing that you could have learned dancing to match steps with a Malaika Arora Khan type figure. Heard last last visit, young chillars' gave you a run for your money.

Aha! Speaking of money. Did you brought  a gunny sack of money, doling out kindness to India!!!! I know, there is nothing called a free meal in the world, certainly with the likes of Uncle Sam. It's a deal with Modi-Ji, your new chaddi Buddy aur Langotya Yaar. Yeh Dosti Hum Nahin Todenga. Barack (Sirr!!!) I am talking bout the nuke deal aur Chai pe Charcha with Narendra, the renewed friendship. See!! Modi-ji called you by the first name that I thought for a while that you were twins, separated at birth. You know the story, right! Pardon my indulgence, for addressing you as Barack, adding a Sir. Protocol held. Two brothers separated by the railway track to find each other in the anti-climax. You fight, deny him visa and then kiss and make up. After all, Bade bade deshon mein, Aise choti choti Baatein Hoti Rehte Hain, Senorita. Right, Barack (Sir). You've melted the heart of our desi, Raj. Shah Rukh Khan is like that only, he woos hearts in true King Khan Size.

Image credit: Google

Confused over lost brothers tale. Koi Baat Nahin! You can rent out our 70s Hindi movies DvD's, Lamboo-ji double roles will do the trick for you. You must be missing India, big time, Barack (Sirrrr!!!!) I know, I know. In India, we do Mehmaan Nawaazi perfectly. Barack Devo Bhava. See, you are our new God, adding you to the zillion Gods we worship. One more!! No tension, Barack Sirjee. Our country love everything AmriCan, the politicians, goodies, accents and green cards. Who doesn't want them all in the bag of goodies. Of course, your dollars to pay for our king-sized burgers and Pizzas.

You are a true blue Amreecan, Barack Yes We Can!!!. Before saying Alvida to us, you didn't forget to play a pound fist by gently chiding India over Ghar Waapsi campaign. A respect for all religions and ethnicity is what we need. Sad na that it's always a foreigner who will teach us the basics. A true Ghar Waapsi on your part. Like they say, Haas Haas ke Majaa Lete hain.

Speaking of Dosti and new found Yaarana, Barack (Sir!!) and your new found Kabbadi dost, our dear PM, Narendra Modi must be in for a sequel. See! You know our KJO, Karan Johar who doesn't have anything to do right now. What!! You didn't have Koffee with Karan or met him to discuss his fixation with K....Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Kabhie Alvida Na Kehna, Kabhie Khushi Kabhie Gham. See, the poor guy is outta work. He sit through All India Bakchod to roast celebs. Sad that KJO couldn't roast you. Chale Saath Saath with Modi-ji for climate change. I'm telling you it's heating up: How about giving fodder to the unemployed Karan of Dharma Productions for a new version of Bromance between you and Modi-Ji.

I am just thinking of a third version of Dostana, starring Narendra Modi and his brother Barack. Worry not, KJO will do all the scripting and your penchant for your fashion icon, NAMO. After all, you can give him some work to do, poor boy, roaming aimlessly, on the street of Mumbai doing the Salsa, roasting celebs.

You wanna an anti-climax, no problem!! Our neighbor is just up our arses, like you pronounce in Amreeka. KJO will make them the villain. Remember your goodies worth million for guns to combat terrorism. Your pact with India for payback. How cool an idea?

As it is, Pakistan is already fuming on your visit, Barack Sirr!!! India UN Security council Permanent seat, you are already gunning for your new found dostana with Indian PM.Bechara Pakistan Government is fuming over our growing clout in the region, courtesy Barack (Sir!!) bada Dil aur Dosti. What a 500-crores story idea, this would be, Barack Sir!!!! New found love, bromance and a common enemy over Nuke deal and UN permanent seat. I tell you, a blockbuster from Neta to Abhineta.

Toh Baat Pahki Samaj le over Bromance, N-Deal and dollars!!! Did you click the selfie with your Yaar to show the daughters? Dekh Betiyon Dekh...my selfie with your new found uncle. Do they refer to Namo Chachu at the White House?

Dear Barack (Sir!!!!!) Till we meet again in Dilli for some Dilwallahs moments, Namaskar Pyar Bhara Namaskar.

Barack Devo Bhava

Vishal

Break up story and exploring fresh, passionate romance

Sob!! Sob!! Sob!!!

Drowning self in tissue papers, sentimental tunes and emptying bottles of alcohol.

A story of break-up, wandering aimlessly for the loss of everything.

A romance buried in the past.

It was yesterday only that we were madly in love,

till it happened.

A grim reminded that love, romance and life doesn't last forever.

Longing for the moments of silliness, kissing and intimacy.

Cursing the destiny and wondering what went wrong!

It doesn't help nursing heart-break like Devdas.

The real me knows that I gotta get up and explore life,

reach out to friends who were lost in translation.

Time to get up and celebrate life, flirting shamelessly and going on a date spree.

There is another soul in the world, waiting for me to hold her hand and kiss her in a flurry of passion.

Life is beautiful, live it fully.

Never say no to love.

Ahem! Ahem! Move over the painful past.

Love

Vishal

Myriad thoughts on Republic Day

A proud moment for Indians across the globe. Puja Thakur is the first lady officer who led the guard of honor for US president Barack Obama. As we usher within hours of Republic Day celebration, India faces several challenges both within our land and outside the country. 
The Indian Government has been successful on the eve of 66th Republic Day to make the Nuke deal with United States a reality. Should we cheer up and join the party?
For hopefuls, it's a sign of India's growing clout among the SAARC countries where we can play a strategic role in dictating terms at the geo-political and economic level. It's high time that India lead the pack in the region since we played a miss-and-blinked appearance in the not-so-distant. Certainly, the future looks bright from a global perspective.
As we celebrate our Republic Day, there are some reflections that we need to make. While the Narendra Modi led BJP Government deserve pat on their back for sealing the N-Deal, Swach Bharat Abhiyaan by making a woman Puja Thakur the face of R-Day who will carve a place in history as an officer, there are certain things that we need to mull over.
India is a country that belongs to everyone, irrespective of caste, class, race or gender. Sadly, there have been the blending of religion with politics which doesn't make us very proud. The minority community are feeling alienated when unfortunate and dumb comments by politicians on ridiculous issues such as Ghar Wapsi, Hindus should have as many children as possible and, of course, the attacks by extremists against social crusader and writer Perumal Murugan in their attempt to strive his creative freedom. We are treading on a dangerous path and such extreme detour do not honor the Indian constitution and the country, as a whole.

As an India, my wish would be to see that sexual assaults, rape and violating a woman's character is history and absent in our land since it doesn't make us proud at all. As a vibrant Republic, we don't want our country to be mired in such mudslinging and attack against women who are our equal in society. One hopes that the Government would come with strict laws against perpetrators of violence against women. 
It's a real tragedy when we see the mighty power of the patriarchal society and a system when men decide what is good and bad for women, how the latter should behave and what she must wear to respect the 'great' tradition. A women is labelled as deemed by society because she refuses to confine to the moral yardstick put in place by society. A change in mindset where we let a woman be who she is and respect her individuality is something the vibrant Republic of India is lacking. Blame it on our culture of oppression and repression.
One wish that we become more tolerant when it comes to religion and sexuality. Let's not stifle sexual freedom which is one of the reasons why there are so many crimes in society. How one wish that heinous crimes like honor killing, violating rights of prostitutes, homosexuals and stifling people on account of their caste and religion would be crushed forever. We want a new and fresh India where each and every person is respected and has the right to lead life on their own terms.

As an Indian, it's normal for us to crib on plagues such as corruption, red-tapism, stifling of creative expression and freedom. Yet, we love our India and would love to see our country cited as a model in the world. We have a rich history and legacy that we are proud of and it's time to stop being negative about the potential of India.

O' My country folks!
Let's strive in our expressions and differences.
Our freedom has no price.
Forefathers fought hard for us to breath freely and grow as human beings.
A dream for a better India,
is it too much to ask, fella countrymen and women?
Be proud of India.
Make our country proud of our actions.
Respect and tolerance.
Proud to be Indian

Jai Hind
Happy Republic Day
Vishal

Re-Blogged: A Spaceship called, The Great Indian Litterbug

I started writing this post for  Indiblogger’s “Great Indian Litterbug”  in association with Times of India 'The Great Indian Litterbug' campaign, exclusively on this post. Unfortunately, I realized that on my Indiblogger's account I can only register for my blog on www.vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com and not for this one. Here's re-blogging.

Image credit: https://www.indiblogger.in/happyhours/great-indian-litterbug/

Disclaimer: It's a post written in humor, designed to tick your funny bones to think. Any reference to any human being, living or dead is regretted but anyone taking to offense to it shall not receive an apology. Let's learn to laugh at ourselves before feeling offended and purify the self and environment.

A Spaceship called, The Great Indian Litterbug:

Lights, Camera, Action. The TV crew and anchors, news editors and journalists, train your third eye. Lovelies!! I mean your toting gun for it's a feast that you can't dare to miss. Never Ever Ever Say No coz our Arnab is wearing blinkers, right now. Swach Bharat Abhiyaan. Like Armadegon, the huge India space ship is descending on planet earth. See, how monstrous, super mighty and powerful this mammoth orbit, designed by fellas homo-sapiens descending on earth to wreck destruction.

The super shiny and huge object crafted with the hard labor of fellow Indians is called, The Great Indian Litterbug. How come we couldn't notice this huge power, zillion times mighty than our missiles, rocket and war tanks? US President, Barack Obama on a visiting spree would be mightily impressed with our self-designed power of human destruction, our own, 'The Great Indian Litterbug.' So what, The Taj Mahal is not on his plans?

The designers aren't faulty robots but the doing of the human mass. Peeing on our walls in every nook-and-corner of the country, garbage thrown from our luxurious worth crores sky-scrapers, Bisleri bottle flung at traffic signals as our show-offs BMW zoom ahead, cigarette butts, plastic bags, newspaper, used items stacked to adorn our society. See, we need to give a fresh aesthetic touch to our surroundings. Stacks and stacks of them piled and mounted on each other like the lego game, crafted intelligently and with perfumes, flowing from our urinal oops orgasmic pleasure, escalating like bricks, metals and gadgets, making us proud of our latest technology to show the world.

See, Mr Barack Obama, it's a must to pay a visit and honor our mighty creation, The Great Indian Litterbug' and shake hands with the creators of such objects of great value. The 'Great Indian Litterbug' space ship doesn't make us proud when we see the Indians that you've adopted for ages and call themselves Americans, your own tribe and fellas foreigners love to visit us with a camera and shoot our to-be-famous 'The Great Indian Litterbug' with aha expressions, 'WoW! This is real India.' 

I tell you: We get so irritated with such 'Mehmaan' who is hell-bent in giving honor to our mighty space ship by making it global. You know, Obama Sir! We know very much how to do 'Mehmaan Nawazi'. I just wanna give a pound of my fist with the 'Real India' definition and honor you give to our unique space ship by posting on You Tube, as if it's some sex orgy or masturbation they are doing. Do you guys come here to see our mighty powerful, 'The Great Indian Litterbug'? See! It's no Red Fort, Taj Mahal and Lal Kila or Gateway of India ani Marine Drive.

Dear fellow Indians, wishing you a Happy Republic Day and let's be the change-Do Not Litter-Is it too much to ask? Make Love not wage war against our great India.

Jai Hind

Vishal

Signs of Getting Old

I'm reaching an elixir. In search of a youth filled liquor potion to gulp and feel forever fresh to make oodles of energy rushing in the blood and body, like a teenager. Is age getting to me?, I wonder. There are certain things in the body that is making me at odd with myself as I have passed the threshold of 30 and it is suddenly making me wonder how life is changing when I hark back at the not-so-distant past.
Borrowing a cue from my favorite SEPO (http://snehabhatsepo.blogspot.com/2015/01/10-signs-you-are-getting-old.html) who wrote a post on 10 Signs of Getting Old, here I am borrowing the entire tree.

1. Last time, I was invited to a friend's two-year-old birthday bash and post Chillar Party, there were plans for adults to stay over a little late till midnight. I hanged around, had few wines and started thinking that it's already 6 p.m and staying till the wee hours would spell trouble. I shall feel sleepy and pang of back pain started cropping up There is no way that I can stay till midnight and made an early exit, to go home and sleep.

2. By nature, I am a night owl and my Mumbai days were spent, roaming around the deserted streets and of course, places like Marine Drive, either hanging solo in company of friends or in hostel staying awake past 3 in the morning. It's been a year now when the eyes start getting rolling past 11.30 p.m, sleep knocking on the door. It got to do with the fact that I report to work at 9 but there were times when waking up at 6 a.m would mean sleep at 2, past the wee hours.

3. I don't remember the last time I wooed a girl and slowly it's become a phase when the women species hardly exist in my dictionary of life or getting attracted to someone in a public place, be it a bus, shopping mall, smiling to strike a conversation has abandoned me. Where has all the godamn crush (es) gone?!

4. There was a time when every week it would be a must to catch a movie either at the theater or on DvD. It was a religion for me but nowadays, I forsake my religion of movies for weeks and sometimes, it hit a month.

5. When I hit the sack on New Year eve and hate the very mention of fire crackers cum staying awake to whatsapp friends or sms-ing at midnight to wish best wishes in the new season. It's just me and my bed or TV takes prominence over New Year celebration.

6. When loans and EMI start bugging you to no end and getting over stressed when you gonna finish it all to sleep peacefully. Money, Money, Money start making sense and you start planning on Insurance investment to save your ass during rainy days.

7. When you stop whining when you have to wear formal trousers and shirts, which you hate, for special occasions to office. I am a completely Tee and Jeans person. Getting all dressed in formal attire is something I just hate and see the irony of not resisting the monster.

8. When you start getting conscious wearing torn off jeans that makes you an awesome rebel you take pride in. Yeah!! I have a penchant for torn and rugged jeans, one of my favorite 'Flying Machine' is displayed proudly on the chair.

9. When small and minor irritation start getting to the brains and you start feeling so powerless and angry rather than laughing at the stupid you.

10. You star over-analyzing and over-thinking at every mundane stuff that affect your life and the result is, whole day spent mulling at things where you've arrived at no solution to the issue.

Cheerz
Vishal

Skirt and denim flowing, kissing way to heaven

Put the music blaring loud,

it ain't jazz.

Dude sporting blue denim, white shirt and boot,

I wanna swim naked in the Arabian sea.

Marveling at my artistic swimming skill,

they shall clap inside their heart.

Yet, the outer demon will slander my gut and brand me the 'shameless creature' showing my assets.

A blot to their culture, I am.

My body shall float above sea level.

Another catch, as they revel in my death.

Womaniya! In mini-skirt, strumming the guitar on the beach,

smoking up to the heart's delight,

as she pulls on the powerful bike,

dancing her way to heaven.

Weaving the song of life,

men and women,

daring to take the world by storm,

naysayers offended.

Sinful chocolate,

lips melt together as they watch us, powerless.

Nah! We shall not resort to violence.

Will offer flowers in lieu to brickbats,

we shall kiss in front of them,

shaming them, their false pride, prejudices, hatred with love.

We dare take on the system and be real.

With Love

V

Hunting for Perfection: Saas, Bahu aur Mamma's Boy

Picture credit: FB friend, Neha's wall. Reproduced with permission.

Guess, who said that?!! Mommy-ji of course, bride hunting for Kunwar, the charming prince, who will take care of her in the good old age. Momma boy, need a bride. Of course, not! He doesn't need one. Maa needs a Bahu. Worried that the 'bechara beta' may die without a bride. Who will carry the lineage forward? Of course, the only 'waaris' in the 'Khandani Parivar'. 

See! Who will make tea, lunch and dinner at home? Performing the religious rites, sacrificing food and Karwa Chauth throughout the year, of course, cleaning the house and souls purifying the 'Ganga-like' household? Of course, the dutiful and domesticated daughter-in-law, pressing 'Saasu Maa' legs while she plonks herself on the couch, the helicopter like fan rolling in the air to provide her respite from the excruciating heat. 'Saasu Maa' need to guard herself from the heat that a modern, educated daughter-in-law may lash on her.

Maa is worried bout the tattoo on 'Bahu' dearest body. Log kya kahenge? Feminist, no way!!! Traditional Brahmin not eating chicken and beef raw, yes!!! Nah!! She will not dance on the table to the tune of Kamli, aspiring to be Deepika Padukone, flaunting her abs or questioning the Saas way of doing things at home. No arguing or questioning religious beliefs. Way to go!! That's like my Baahu. In Saasu Maa universe, boozing or late night party, is out of question. What if the Baahu is having an orgy of sort with her gang of girls?! Don't tell, Saasu Maa. She will die of a heart attack. Nahin!!!! Nahin!!!!! What will the Samaaj say? Boozing among her English-speaking friends is simply out of question for the Mother-in-laws of the world. 

Ladies, are you planning to apply with your decorated CV to join this household? Chuck out your job description!!!! serving beer in the five-star hotel, one-time hooker, Ganja smoking or hitting the guy who made a pass at you with the helmet. Stop arguing for any flimsy reasons, ladies or else, at your own peril, you shall remain (Un) Happily Married. At your own risks for torturing this morally uptight mother-in-law. See! She wanna see a mirror image of her own younger self in you.

You are too westernized for her own exquisite taste of what a Baahu should be like. You must wash the dishes, make tea for the husband, wait for Pati Parmeshwar to have dinner before you eat, press and touch his feat and, of course, have sex only if Paati-dev wants to. Of course, he will ask Mommy-ji permission and mind you, if she says it's 'Paap', you'll keep longing for some thrill and adventure on bed. Saasu Maa is the one who decides when and if it's not for procreation, you are doomed. Sensual pleasure is sin with this Saasu-Maa. She will consult her astrologers or pay a visit to Baba Ramdev before both of you get under the white sheet. Don't ever think to buy the 'balloon' to make Pati-dev wear. It's the biggest sin you will commit and if Saasu-Maa ever gets to know, your room must be cleaned. Then? Haawan Karenge, Haawan Karenge!!

Yeh Bandhan toh Pyar Ka Bandhan..Janmon ka Bandhan Hai!!! You see, Sir!! Huge circle of friends shall be kept at bay kyon ki marriage is about the union between two souls, never mind the kitty party of bitching about the 'Baahu Rani.' O! Womaniya!!! Feminist, too western in outlook, English Vinglish or fighting for a social cause, you are dead. Our Bhaiya-ji is 37-something baby, the chairman waiting for Mamma call in office to check if he had breakfast or lunch, seeking her blessing to chair meeting. Shubbh Mahurat! Don't you forget that you gotta plan well with this hubby of yours, 'Aaji Sunte ho.'

Planning for a baby or paying your bills cum starting a new venture. Don't forget to check your stars first. Shubbh Mahurat matters and, of course, taking Saasu-Maa's blessings. Any takers for this proposal, ladies? Chuckle! I think, I am going to die if my Mom ever post this kind of ad on my behalf or without permission.   Waise Mommy-ji!!! Have you ever consulted Smriti-ji? Kyon ki Saas Kabhi Bhi Bahu Thi. I bet you are the chuddi buddy of Ekta Kapoor. Sakshi Maharaj, I am telling you must be remotely related to this classic Mom that would give Nirupa Roy and Raakhee a complex. Mere Karan Arjun aayenge.

A last question before I go: Have you considered taking insurance for Beta-ji? I am just asking coz insurance is a matter of solicitation. How bout' a legally binding contract for the son and his would-be-newly wed wife? Just letting you know, I am not bride hunting.

Reflection on New Year doston: It's 2015

The party is over. Recovering from the hang over and damage to ear lobes havoc cause by fire crackers, dusty calendars thrown off as a new one replaces it, adorning the wall. Fresh paint on the wall. Nah! Same old paint but new calendar stand proudly in every nook-and-corner of the house. Happy New Year folks. Wish you love, positive energy wafting through your lives and may all your dreams come true.

We long for new year eve, partying hard till the wee hours admiring the sunrise, shopping spree, spending like a fish for the new year. In the flick of second, it's passe and we wake up to a brand new season. Dekho 2015 Zamana Aagaya.

Every year, the common people face the same old issues, inflation, housing, caste, class discrimination, attitudes towards women being exploited, corruption and exploited by capitalists. We shall get set, go to office or college to be stuck in a rut. We shall forget the promises made to self as we go about in our contented selfish lives. How many of us would stand up for the girl child abused or woman molested in public spaces? We will sink in and nurture prejudices against race and caste, jealously protecting our religion at the outset of attacks, flaring up tempers. How intelligent on our part?

Let's reflect that a start to the year is not just about clinking glasses and go about in the same old routine of life. Our country is facing several challenges and it's not just about Swacch Bharat or hitting against discrimination or crazy acts such as terrorism in Assam or Peshawar, Ghar Wapsi. A small difference such as feeding a child or treating woman with respect in this patriarchal set up and caring for everyone irrespective of caste, class, race or sex will make the year a beautiful one.

On the personal front, I look forward to enjoy every moment of life, reading more books and doing book  reviews. I've done quite a few last year and I am getting so many requests from authors' to review their works. Participating in blogging challenge is something I look forward to and coming with creative posts. We shall blog to the hearts' contentment and consolidating old bond, making new friends on this space. Thanks my blogger friends for making my life beautiful and a memorable one.

Let's leave the past behind and look up to the new season filled with hope, optimism, victories and facing new challenges.

May all your dreams come true.

Happy New Year 2015.

Vishal

Bye Bye 2014: Contemplating on Good, Bad and Ugly

The minty scoop of ice-cream melt into the tongue and swirling sensation of wine drops rolled inside the mouth, making it an enjoyable and sinful treat. A year that would soon be buried in the past as 2014 calendars is dumped to be replaced by a fresh one. The new diary, calendar and agenda would soon be set for 2015. Happy New Year.

2014 was a crazy year and a repetition of the earlier one, 2013. Two bad years rolled into one where I stepped into darkness, getting myself into crazy stuffs. It was frustrating to see things not falling into the right place and the moments where light inside the tunnel eluded my existence. It started crazily with me resigning from the job in the first week of January. By nature, I am a very instinctive person. I wasn't agreeing with the way things was shaping up and during the briefing session, took my decision. Post briefing, grabbed a coffee and lit a cigarette. Decision was taken. It was the start of a long and tiresome journey, days and months surviving and hanging on the thread. I became restless. 

There were such moments of frustration when extreme negative thoughts popped in and couldn't control ugly thoughts. It was a vulnerable period and I felt helpless fighting the inner demons cum psychological illness plaguing me. I was running late with bank threatening me with dire consequences for lateness on loan, credit card was cancelled and EMI walon on my trail. I became restless, finicky and crabby. Getting irritated at the slightest thing and over hyped, I was in a hurry to sort things out, chucked out some people from life the time you know who are your real friends are and need to get things right in the head.

A guy who was taking things for granted and who was a friend for years got it from me. I decided, enough was enough and screwed him with words.I told him off and sad things reached there but had to tell the naked truth to him. I am happy it happened since the true colors of the chamaleon was exposed.

There were the bad moments. It continued till the second half of the year and things bottled inside me. I choose the face things that wasn't working and sailed through. Slowly, the scattered thread picked and got a new job in a magazine. I made a comeback to the company where I had three best years and glad that I made the decision. New avenues were opened with freelancing for websites such as Indie Icons, blowing my trumpet on The Indian Trumpet. Dabbling with book reviews was a first for me and it's been cherry on the cake with one thing leading to another. Blessed I was to review books by super talented authors such as Shuchi Singh Kalra, Sundari Venkatraman and India was One fame which got me visibility. Today, many authors approach me to review their books. Just yesterday, actor Olivier Lafont playing Suhas Tandon in Three idiots approached me to review his first book, Warrior.

The year where my former boss whom I hold in high esteem made her comeback to head our magazine which postponed plans to move away from the company. The light and memorable moments were made possible by blogger friends, whom I call the extended family on FB and Twitter.

There was the bad, ugly and good. I choose to remember the priceless memories in the dying seconds, minutes and hours. Our FB, Twitter and Blogger friends. I owe it to you despite distance separate us.

Happy New Year 2015 and wish loads of love, happiness and fulfillment.

There is always light after darkness.

Love

Vishal

Soaring spirits of soul in the new season

The bells chimed to glory,

fire crackers flung to an escalating high reaching the blue sky.

Soaring spirits renew hope and strengthening bond.

Promises unkept, turning a leaf on past glory and disappointment,

as souls are born again.

Embracing the world like a new born, eyes sparked with curiosity to explore brand new avenues and never shying away from pushing the self towards the edge.

There shall be unplanned friendship, new love and falling from grace.

Yet! The modest heart shall not be trapped in the illusion of grandeur or mysticism of the world.

Life shall knock the self down,

nursing the wounds, one shall get up slowly, facing adversity and brushing aside sobbing story.

A new beginning is on the way.

Fierce and daunting spirit to lift all souls together,

singing the song of life.

Three cheers to the New Season.

Happy New Year 

2015 is Ghar Waapsi, a blend of 'New' Year cocktail

Mommy Returns, Bhootnath Returns and Singham Returns need to take a leaf since we are minutes and seconds away from the good ole’ Sanskari days. It’s called, ‘Ghar Waapsi’ at the stroke of midnight. The RSS is hitting their stomach with a bang doing bang bang for their success in the scripted blockbuster ‘Ghar Wapsi.’ An anti-dote to the modern day of Ramayana-move over The Secrets of Nagas’  to convert and re-convert ‘Hindus’ coz India is a Hindu state first, NO.

Swacch Bharat re-plugged with the meteoric rise of extreme right ‘Hindu’ fundamentalists. It should be the dhamakedaar dialogue of the year ‘Ghar Waapsi.’ Time to move over ‘Ache Din’ and ‘Ab Aahi Gaye Modi Sarkar’, it’s Ghar Wapsi piping Modi one-liners to the post.

Last heard, the RSS Walon is planning to welcome the year clinking cocktail glasses with a Dharna a la Kejriwal, asking PM Modi to ban all social networking sites like Facebook and, of course, whatsapp since it’s a by-product of western culture infiltrating India and polluting young minds. The likes of Sunny Leone and Sherlyn Chopra will soon be out of work as skin showing will flow out of the window and will be invited to embrace Sanyasi in Ashrams. The kissing Babas will fall sway to the perfume of spirituality as their lotus feet will be the solace for the damsels in distress.

This is true Ghar Waapsi, according to spoke people of the Shakha. There will be a police ban on erotic movies and illegal viewing of pornography-cum-intimate materials on websites and magazines. You know why? Because, some spiritual people have just discovered a ‘scientific fact’ that sexual performance decreases mental concentration and reduces life span.

A new law is in the offing: Every male must deposit their sperms with the Government and will be rationed on demand to procreate because ‘Ghar Waapsi’ will be the buzz of 2015. We are in for a huge revolution in India to clean our great culture of all evils, perpetrated by man-kind.

HRD Minister and Yale’d,  Smriti Irani will announce a pet project in all schools and colleges, ‘Kyon Ki Sanskari Kabhi Bhi Hindustani Sabyata Tha’. Our text books will contain only scriptures of Ramayana, encouraging every child to be a pious Hindu and Non-Hindus to convert in truly ‘Ghar Waapsi’ fashion. Failure to do so will entail that our children will not be allowed to take exams or will get a zero note.

It’s the award of the year to take the pie. The ‘funtoons’ in real life are jumping the fray, fighting  and kicking each other a la Bum Be Laat to take the award home. The 2014 Award of the year goes to: Baba Ramdev, for saving Hindu religion from PK. Next in line: Rashtriya Sevak Sangh and Vishwa Hindu Parishad slugging it out at No. 2. Wait, we are not done. The outsider, Shiv Sena is sending a rocket: daring PM Modi to capture Dawood in an Osama-like operation. Who will make 31^st December their’s? Your take and don’t forget to put all your money on the dark horse. Nostradamus has just failed.

Whipped a freezy ice-cream, pour some liquor to trade New Year Eve and ushering in brand new 2015 filled with idiosyncrasies coz 2015 gonna be a super- hot and spicy year with phunny one-liners, endorsed by our politicians and religious men to beat each other. So much for the lime light!

Happy New Year 2015

Char Botal Vodka

Vishal

WoW! Maya, The Illusion & Me converse about 'A New Beginning.'

I am participating in the prompt, 'A New Beginning' as part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Maya, The Illusion & Me converse about 'A New Beginning.'

Every year, it's the same old story with you, she says. A new beginning laden with fresh hopes, dreams and leaving the past behind. You are stuck in a rude dude, she sensuously tells me, stroking my lip with her red hot nail polish.

Who are you? I ask, "A tempest."

"I am Maya (The Illusion) may be. An object of sensuality who is taking you on my bed. You make make love to me since you are a weak person. I am making you fall weak on the needs. Perhaps, you will make love to me, kiss me all over and be one with me. I shall disappear in a while. One thing for sure: You live in a world of illusion. This is why, you are lying naked with me, beneath the white sheet."

"Hell!"

"Yeah, hell," she smiles. "You know how you sound every year when you say that you shall make a new beginning. Monotonous! You are stuck in a rut like the routine sex we just had."

I am confused. But, who is she?, I wonder. She got the gut to tell me the truth. It's the truth. May be! How did I land up with Maya, the illusion, falling sway to her charms. How dare she tells me all that?

She got up from the bed, walked naked in her crystal clear body made of ice and pulled her nightie. She held my hand, dressed me up and said, "Come." She brewed two cups of coffee and smiles, "Let me take you to the haven of truth and you will face the reality only if you allow it." She became gentle.

"Why is it that you never forget the past?," she asked.

I protest, "But, that's not true."

"It's been six years. How come you have never been able to forget Dia? Every year, you take resolutions that Dia is not a part of your life and you shall move on. But, she is in not just your past but present. You shy away from falling in love. The truth is that you are scared. All it needs is a delete button. You must watch Jab We Met again."

"Ok! I am listening," I am feeling irritated.

"The past failures gnaws you and you are dying every single day. The failure in exams and the past job that made your life hell. You are not able to come to terms with the frustrating fact that you gave everything in your career and you were dealt a blow. You need to let go of you past relationships with people. You lack the courage and guts to get things going, blaming everything on destiny. You cannot remove the fear that plague your existence. And people's opinion about you is holding back the success waiting to crown you. Only then, a new beginning will take place."

I was at a loss of words, not knowing how to react. This woman knows everything about me. She's been telling how nurture false hopes which crash as the year unfurl itself. She is right. I need to look up to a new beginning, getting rid of the mental blocks and negative thoughts that affect my life.

"Anything else?" I ask.

"No," she smiles. "You've read my mind and you already have all the answers. I shall leave now. Time for a new beginning and forget that we ever met, made love and helped you to see the real picture.

The mysterious woman, draped in long, white robe bend towards me to forcefully smooch me for the longest time. She seductive says, "This is the longest kiss. It will remain etched in your soul, reminding you every second that a new beginning is not just lofty thoughts, words but you must sprang into action. Make your life worth it every moment. You deserve happiness and joy because you are a special person who is destined to achieve extraordinary things in life. Happy New Year."

Slowly, she turns into ashes and what remained was dust scattered on the marble floor in the kitchen. 'It's a New Beginning.'

Chiming bells of Joy and Santa: Merry X-Mas

Bells chime in, miniature Santa Claus adorn X-mas tree, decorated with toys and balloons.

Santa Claus is perched atop and smiles at the snowy beauty of the festive season.

Ringing in with new promises and happiness,

filled with joy and dreams,

pure fantasy echoing delight felt and lived by children.

The joy of waiting for Santa and falling asleep on tiny, innocent ears.

A sudden whisper by Santa,

yet the cute heart will sleep its way to heaven, dreaming of gifts.

It's the perfect season.

 It's Christmas.

The X-mas tree stands tall with gifts and toys to warm the contented heart.

Jumping with joy and tree hugging,

the child's heart warm for a small toy that would give happiness.

Yet! It can only wish for happiness.

The parent's meager income cannot afford the humble toy,

as the child shed a tear or two.

Pinning for a miracle, the father dons the mantle of Santa,

sacrificing lil penny, sleeping on empty stomach throughout the year,

slink the super fast car below the child's cot.

Leaping on his foot, he exudes in sheer delight.

After all, Santa listened to the cry of his heart.

It's X-mas,

no child should be deprived of happiness.

Merry X-mas

Share and spread some love

Vishal

WoW: When my smart phone went missing

This post 'When my smart phone went missing'is part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Damn!!! Where have I put the phone? Fuck! It just cannot happen again. Re-visiting the ugly past of losing the second smart in my life. I am not gonna survive like that without my handset. 21k gone waste like water seeping its way in the mud. What a waste!I call on my number!!! S*** it's switched off. I became red with seething anger, mourning the death of most prized buddy taken away from me. I tell Mom, "No luck! It's gone." She tells me to keep the bus ticket and tomorrow morning, jump straight to the bus terminus before going to the cops. I think, I am going to die right now. The energy is drained from the body and feel weak. I try to maintain my calm and composure, ready to kick myself in the ass. Now, no whatsapp, FB or checking mail on phone. How am I gonna survive without the smart phone!

I take a cigarette and walk past the door to smoke on the verandah. Smoking calms. I try to recollect the past events, unfurling itself on this fateful Friday.

Strolling past Marine Drive at night, I miss listening to songs on the smart phone,nursing my wounds and pinging of friends on whatsapp, the spicy Alia Bhatt forwards. I cannot come to terms that I have to borrow a phone from a friend and walking long distance to fish for a boot, a remote possibility in India's cosmo world. I feel like kicking myself on the butt, for being so careless about the phone.

Slowly coming to terms with life minus smart phone, I spend time in cafes, reading newspapers and books, chatting with strangers bout life, metaphysical joy and happiness. Despite my grand deception of losing a part of me within the handset miraculously disappearing out of thin ear, there is a certain happiness flowing in the air that I am able to reconnect with the self and making human contact, something that I was so alien to and caught in the fake in the passion of everything hi fi.

At times, I forget that the smart phone is not in the pocket and I slip the fingers which hit the emptiness in life, dictated by the world of gadgets and social media. The mind, somehow, verges to the first expensive Nokia handset that I lost in a matter of three months inside the hostel room, exactly on same day and date I got it at the phone shop for 10k, a princely sum for a student at Mumbai.

It was a Saturday. I hardly slept during the night and dashed for lecture in the morning. On my way back from Santacruz, I wondered whether I should hop at Bandra Bandstand for my weekly Latte dose. But, the inner voice directed me to miss hopping at Bandra and jump straight to sleep in the room. I lay on the bed, putting the handset beneath the pillow and slept. I wake up to see the phone missing. I freaked out, only to realize that I let the door open, inviting expert hands to conjure magic tricks with the pillow and handset.

Prologue:

Where on earth have I put the HTC handset!! I called a couple of times but the handset is switched off and gone totally blank. The 'lucky' one must have been having a field day and Santa has come earlier for them. S**** the stupid me who has now lost the third handset. Record!!! I take another drag from the Marlboro cigarette and tried to retrieve my memory trove. I was sitting in the bus, listening to songs and when the bus hit the stop, I got up with the lap-top bag. Point one: I must have left it on the seat for grab.

I stopped at the shop to buy stuffs and, in a hurry, I must have left it on the counter. No point racking the brain now. The smart phone is gone and end of a love story of checking office emails, whatsapp and FB.

Taking a detour inside mom room, I am searching for something when my eyes hit a shiny object, white coated and sleek. F***! I just can't believe my eyes. It's my HTC One X. What the phone is doing on top of the drawe? Is Someone playing truant with me!

Wait! Now, I remember. When I reached home, my cousin called on the handset and we indulged in a passionate B-town and political chat, before passing the phone to Mom. I went inside Mom's room to change into shorts. Inspecting the phone, I saw that by mistake, the handset turned into 'Airplane mode' reason for being insensitive to my needs.

Lesson learned: Always be careful when you keep your prized possession. Take a habit to break away from your phone to add a human touch to your relationships, chatting with parents, friends and your loved ones.

PS: The incidents narrated in the prompt is real and misplacing the phone happened to me, two weeks back. Yeah! I freaked. Thanks, Blogadda for this one.

Not Children Humanity is Dead!

"Whoever kills a person (unjustly),it is as though he has killed all mankind." (Qur'an, 5:32).

No religion teaches us to murder someone or worst take the lives of innocent people and children. Small kids are little flowers that bloom into fine human beings, their eyes twinkle with dreams and they adorn our world. Don't we call babies bundle of joys?

I couldn't react when I heard terrorists stormed a school in Peshawar, Pakistan on Wednesday to gun down young and innocent lives. Angst filled my heart on December 16. Of course, the date is a grim reminder of another heinous crime, the brutal rape of 'Nirbhaya.' Not again! I said. My heart cried a lot when I imagine the pain inflicted on parents and innocent children lying in a pool of blood.

What is the fault of the innocent children. Questions are still raging in my mind. People taking the lives of children do not deserve to be called humans. No! They are not humans and please, you terrorists, don't call yourself pious or God fearing. How can you kill 'Children of God.' You are cowards who ruthlessly take the lives of small children. How on earth can you imagine of touching children? I wonder whether your hands trembled once before pressing the trigger. It's high time we stop preaching about religion. Like a friend remarked on Facebook and I fully endorse that, I shall not be religious from today. If being religious-here, I mean, any religion-leads to that, it's pointless to fall sway to discourse.

Image credit: Google/Facebook

I have lost faith in humanity when I see that a bunch of crazy people go on a killing spree, taking the lives of innocent souls. What is the motive of the crime? What do they want to prove? Instill fear in people, the fear of education, the fear of elevating the self beyond human prejudices! They are terrorists giving a bad name to faith. Islam is a religion that preaches peace and Jihad for me, a non-Muslim, means waging a war against the evil in society, rape, crime, murder and violence. First, clean your soul and wage Jihad against the evil in you. It hold true for any religion, be it a Hindu, Muslim or Christian.

What irks me is that some crazy folks blamed it on Pakistan, saying they getting a taste of their own medicine. Sorry folks! It's no time to debate on what's wrong with Pakistan and what wrong they've done. Two wrongs doesn't make it right. If you, as a Hindu, you are uttering such words, I don't consider you better than the terrorists who took the lives of innocent children. Children are children everywhere and it doesn't matter which state, region or country.

There are several questions that I want to ask to the forces of evil but don't know where to start and where to finish. Is humanity dead? It's disturbing to see such ugly face who doesn't bat an eye lid to destroy families and children. It is not a question of one religion but sea of humanity. Our future is at stake and we need to do something for the future generation. Let's sow the seed of love to beat hatred in this world. Small coffins are a big burden to carry. We shall not let hate defeat our purpose.

My heart goes to the innocent children and their parents whose lives were destroyed for no fault of them.

Spread Love and not Hate

Vishal

Sexual Violence against women: Safety, agression and fading hope

Another crime and sexual violence against women reminds us of the Black December we witnessed two years back after the heinous crime that shook our world. We didn't want another Nirbhaya to happen. A grim reality in India, from plush cities to obscure villages. that doesn't seem to stop. I highly oppose the label of Delhi as Rape Capital which is a cliche that will dilute the cause of fighting against rape.

The irony of the situation is that Uber cab, connected to smart phone applications was judged safe for a woman in a city and the country as a whole, that took a beating as a result of heinous crimes such as rape committed against women. It's a real tragedy when we see how the male aggression is hitting such a high octane. When politicians 'indirectly'condone such patriarchal male assault with catch-phrase like, 'Ladke hain Galati Ho Jati Hai,' one might argue where we have gone wrong. The woman, who is a victim in most of the cases, is blamed for wearing short skirts or showing her legs when those bastards shamelessly commit crime  without showing the slightest remorse.

When both men and 'some'women in society blame a girl and fail to educate their sons on how to respect someone, it makes me wonder what shit we teach our boys?  It's perfectly cool and normal to show their masculinity and a woman saying No to their advances is a personal insult or injury, for that matter. Tell me, how the girl going for a walk on the street will feel safe when an asshole makes sick comment on her body or she is being groped in the train? For how long, should she remain silent just because he is a man, no matter how sick this behavior is? How many of us will come in defense of a girl protesting against dirty looks? Such things make me very pessimist on our apathy which sucks?

We've debated at length on so-called reform in our laws that deal in a very lenient manner on matters pertaining to verbal, sexual assault and rape. Piece-meal legislation just doesn't help to curb the crime. Authorities need to come up with strict laws dealing the strict punishments that serve as a deterrent to such crimes. Shaming the criminals by plastering their pictures all over the place is one way to create awareness by letting the public know that they are the bad guys. I also believe in chemical castration that will go a long way to serve as a reminder.

Anyways! The objective of this post is not to tell the Indian Government or authorities across the globe what should be done to prevent such crimes. It's high time we educate our sons on how to behave with a woman and treat her as equal. It's not just about boosting your stupid male ego, adding fuel to the false ego that you have the right to physically harm someone because of ascribed features acquired at birth. For once, it sends shiver down my spine as a man if someone would inside an iron rod inside me or some penis will forcefully enter me much against my wish. How would I feel as man? It is important that we, men, think in those terms to try understand the trauma a women, victim of rape, is going through.

We point accusatory fingers at women with this bullshit of staying late, whether at work or hanging out somewhere during the night, dressing from top-to-toe or being accompanied by a male during the course of duty to restrict women freedom. Agree, women are easy targets by perverts! But, let's cast aside this moral sermon which is utter rubbish so that we don't lose track of the real debate or fight against the crime.

As far as improvement is concerned in terms of safety for women, I just hope that I don't lose the fading  hope. One wonder whether we should take the law in our hands since protests are not really happening to bring change.

The Lingaa is back

The Lingum is back! Don't angry him. He will perform a somersault and fight like a wild tiger to protect his virginity against the enemy besieging, hell bent to break its penance in a world filled with dirty mind. Gandi Baat, Gandi Baat, Gandi Gandi Baat. The long stick thrust in the air as it pops straight like mouth-watering Gulab jamun for a blissful munch.

Fire your dirty mind, fellas. I am not speaking of the Phallus or the Shiva-Linga, symbol of the phallus, representing the fervor Lord Shiv. Pouring holy water to appease the fury of Lord Shiva, think again! Yeah! I am not imagining someone making seductive movies, gyrating mind and body, swaying the pelvic thrust to one's delight. I am speaking of the Master of Impossibilities and what he can do! See! I told. Again, you thinking Gandi! Gandi!! Hey, Bhagwan!!!!!

Come December 12, we shall sing Happy Birthday to Rajinikant, our superstar Rajini coming with a double dhamaka. Lingaa, an ode to Rajni Sir. Will he or won't he do what he can do? Nike (y) will change its tag line, 'Just Did It' to 'We didn't, Rajnikant Did It' in Lingaa. Over-sexualized and over-charged Rajni fans, I am telling you, are all over the place for a taste of Rajini's Lingaa. Hold on! Fellas! You gotta twist your dirty minds! Why you are now associating Superstar Rajini with Lingum, it's Lingaa dirty fellas? I bet you getting an orgasm of sort, waiting for Shivaji Rai Gaikwad doing the lingum of sort flying like UFO to pounce on the villains like tornado and fire crackers. 

Can you do what Rajini do? I am sure you will burn your fingers. Still doubtful about that our new-age ling'um, oops, Rajini can do. Ok!! I challenge you on your terrain: Can you bag Rs 200 crores for your lingaa? See! You can't! Only Rajinikant can do it. And, you gotta the nerves to tell me that it's all fad watching Rajinkant and that he doesn't know the deep and dark secrets of Netas, Abhinetas and bimbos of the Sherlyn, Sherwat, Dimpy Mahajan and Sunny-baby. 

Our new Lingaa can stop the war if he wants to by brandishing his lethal weapon, aka, Lingaa pistol and the mere twitching of his moustache will make the Pakistani rifle shooters and jawans abandon their post. Now, you know what PM Modi should do? He should stand in deference in front of the Lingaa on December 12, showering petals and holy water on Rajni-Sir and India will reach double-digit economic growth, prosperity. Of course, no need for the Government to file cases in Supreme Court and the mere threat of Rajni-Sir showing lingaa will brought back all black money stacked in Videsh.

Now, who needs Father Christmas when Rajni Sir's Lingaa is back to fetch us goodies and, of course, gifts, toys, paisa and wishes from Santa Claus. Move over Santa Claus this season coz Superstar Rajni is back with a bang. The hundreds hundreds crores for him and wish for us that miracles will happen as we worship the Lingaa. See! I tell you Rajni Sir can shut the mouths of the mothers and fathers of stupidity. Move over Action Jackson and Shakers! Let's do the Lungi Dance and put a yo-yo in the mouths of the advocates hell bent to 'saffronizing' our text books and the Sadhvi of the epic 'Niranjan Jyoti'.

Wishing plenty of goodies triggered with Linaa, bearing the hall mark of the father of possibilities as we reach for the sky, the one and only Rajnikant.

PS: This post written in good humor to tickle your funny bones and is not meant to offend anybody's sensibility, moral, religious or otherwise.

Lingally Yours

Vishal

Warrior of dreams flirting with danger

I jumped out of the bed, running for cover and furious throwing things away, unearthing my deadly weapon. In the fury, I switched off the light to confuse the attackers. Gosh! I feel sloshed! I feeling sleeping and my eyes are drowsy. I am scared to death for I know they gonna get an edge on me. Suddenly, I am sleepwalking and body oscillating, to and fro. Fuck! I tell myself. I gotta get control of the body. They hitting me on my face, legs and stomach. I yell. Yet! I ain't feeling any body. What kind of violence is that?, I stammered.

Finally, after sustaining blows, I retrieve my deadly weapons and flings the object, sparkling with balls of flame, in their direction. I cannot hit them and they suddenly, became invisible. I feel like an impotent warrior, failing to cudgel them to death. They popped in front of me, right now, laughing hysterically like the dreaded Hollywood villains. I pulled my might, resort to brutish force and pounced on them with the weapon. They lie down on the floor and blood seeping on the floor. As I revel in my victory a gun piercing my back and as I turned around, a man with devilish eye makes a wicked face. He got the better of me. Before dying, I hit him with the deadly weapon. We lie down on the cold floor, awaiting for death to take all of us to the final destination.

I moan, waiting for death to consume my body. Running my hand on the pierced chest, I sense the blood that I wanna taste before dying. I get a jolt: There is no blood spurting on my body. I opened my eyes to see my attackers has miraculously disappeared. Is it some magical trick conjured by invisible men to kill me? I slowly get off to see that my body is intact. The TV is on, playing some Hindi action flick. I must have dozed on the sofa, getting sunk in a nightmarish action fascination and baying for blood.

In the flick of seconds, I hear Mom shouting and crying for help, 'Thieves, Thieves'. I scampered to her room and see her, lying motionless and crumpled, on the bed. I run towards the door and checking the rooms, to see our house safe. I shake her gently, "Mom! Wake up, there is no thieves." She is in tears, oblivious, of the nightmare both of us flirted with. We flirted with danger, thriving in our world of dreams and nightmare. Dreams is a complex emotion that scared us down the spine where the hurt is non-existent.