Writing is simple,but not easy.

December 28, 2011

Fliegen

A famous couple had died that afternoon.


Two bullet shots were heard outside the compound.

As instructed, the seargents took the bodies upstairs and set them alight.

The world rejoiced at the fall of the Fuhrer.

Miles away from the Fuhrerbunker – Adolf Hitler & Eva boarded a millitary jet to  fly away into mystery forever.









Gyanban thoughts – Fliegen is a German word for Fly.This 55 fiction gave me something to think about when I was researching the story.Adolf Hitler’s death is known to be by a single gun shot to his right temple.Later his body was burnt along with his wife Eva Braun. The information about his death was inconsistenly released, some of which is still kept a secret.

Different versions of Hitler's fate were presented by the Soviet Union according to its political desires. In the years immediately following 1945, it maintained Hitler was not dead but had fled and was being shielded by former western allies.This worked for a time to cause western authorities some doubt. The chief of the U.S. trial counsel at Nuremberg, Thomas J. Dodd, said: "No one can say he is dead."

When President Truman asked Joseph Stalin at the Potsdam conference in August 1945 whether or not Hitler was dead, Stalin replied bluntly, 'No'. However, by 11 May 1945, the Soviets had already had Hitler's dentist Hugo Blaschke and his dential technician confirm the dental remains found were Hitler's and Eva Braun's.

But the question remains, why was information on Hitler’s death not an open text book in the first place? What could possibly be hidden? I leave it to your imagination…


information courtesy :wikipedia.

December 18, 2011

Bearer



They came in a hurry
With their minds blurry
They raged and cried
Some tears dried.

They came happy sad or frayed,
Romantic or hearbroken everyday,
Thoughts screaming out loud,
Some down but not out.


I travelled with their lives
Everyday noons or nights,
They told me their stories,
Some ambitions,wishesh or glories.

I smiled and help them move on
Crossed the crossings forlorn,
Cushioned them on the bends
Some twists and some turns.

Today I stand alone as a former,
Quietly ensconced in a dark corner
Waiting for the grinder
A gruelling end,and a gentle reminder
Life is just like a passenger…



Gyanban Thoughts – this poem is written from the point of view of a Taxi.The title Bearer is aptly fit the sentiment of the poem.So many stories unfold in his daily life, so many travellers join him in the brief journey,yet no one ever told his story.No one ever cared what happened to him? Where was the time or need ? They were there everytime we needed them,we travelled and reached our destinations time and gain.But did you stop and care of what happened to them ? Or did you rationalise it out of your lives ? Quite similar to our lives isnt't it? How we forget those people who took us to our destinations...

Life is just like a passenger,always  looking forward to the next destination but seldom realising how important the journey was...

December 12, 2011

Sapphic






Dear Appa


I know you have dreams for me,
I know you have faith in me,
I know you have nurtured me,
But I want to fly away.

I know you have sat beside me,
I know you have cried with me,
I know you have died with me,
But I want to fly away.

I know you sacrificed for me
I know you struggled for me
I know you tried for me,
But I want to fly away.

I know you love me,
I know you care,
I know you would dare,
But I wish you just let me be, me.


~Your selfish daughter
Rachna




After scribbling these few lines, Rachna, threw away the paper and sat in silence gazing blankly outside the window overlooking the crowded city.

‘I just have to do this – I’ve got to tell Appa’ she emphasized in hr mind.

‘But what if he reacts badly? What if he gets stressed...what if something happens to him? I would live in regret for the rest of my life’ she contradicted.

‘Yet if I don’t, then I will regret all my life as well. Regret is constant in either case. The question is which is the lesser one?’

It was almost time for Mr.A.P.V. Janardhan Reddy, Chief Engineer for Government projects, to come home. “Reddy garu” as he was popularly called, was a simple, honest man in a maze of politics and corruption. It was a quirk of fate that he had managed to survive this long without succumbing to the shackles of corruption. His reputation was unquestionable and often was the cause of envy for people who liked and disliked him.

He had a small family, his wife Mrs.Geetha Reddy, and daughter Rachna. They lived in the government quarters nearby. His life was simple, routine and uncomplicated. Not that he was chauvinistic, but he had clear expectations from his life. He would earn,Geetha would cook, and Rachna would get married to a nice simple next door boy,preferably another government employee, and settle close to their neighbourhood.

But that was about to change tonight.





‘Geetha – I am home’ he announced his arrival.

‘Your tea is ready why don’t you go freshen up first’ said Geetha.

‘Hmm what’s there to eat?’

Chekkalu and some Upma but first wash up and relax’ Geetha’s voice trailed off  as she went into the kitchen.


Rachna heard her father’s voice.


‘This is it Rach, you will have to break the news today’ she thought.
Yet the conflicting voice in her was equally strong and persistent.


‘Appa, I want to talk to you’ she said gingerly.


‘Oh you are at home, I didn’t realise that – I thought you were out with friends. By the way, did you meet the boy I asked you to? What’s his name? Girish I think – seems like a decent boy, he has done his B-Tech from Vellore, and unlike others, he prefers to work for the government. I think he has a bright future –India needs….’

‘Appa’ Rachna interrupted rather agitatedly.

‘Appa I’ve got a job with Bottlecaps – ‘ she paused for a reaction, but got none.


‘Its India’s first gay pub – she paused for a reaction’ she got none. Her father kept looking at her, something more was to come.


‘As their first woman restaurant manager’ – her mouth had dried, she gulped slowly.

‘and…’ .

Generally, the most outrageous thing that Mr.A.P.V. Reddy had ever heard or assessed was how his colleague’s son left electronic engineering to go pursue a career in Veterinary sciences. But this was outside his vocabulary of imagination or even remote fantasy. The flurry of questions in his mind were blocking his ability to react ,speak or gesture.

The stillness in the room was palpable. The Upma remained glued in between the mouth and the throat, the half eaten Chekkalu looked on blankly,the curtains stopped swaying,the tea broke free from the cup and sprinkled on Geetha’s hands,but she did not react either.


Rachna could hear her heartbeats, her fathers and her mothers, amplified ten times.

‘And Appa – I am…  – I don’t like men – getting married to a man would not only ruin his life, but mine as well.’


The fan tried to flip  the pages of the Deccan Chronicle, but it soaked in the oil from the Upma and lay down still smudging the snippet  'India's first...'















Gyanban Thoughts ~ This is the concluding part of the poem Rumination written previously. Sometimes breaking the news to family is the most toughest thing - more so, if you know for sure that it might bring about havoc - but the dilemma and the price one has to pay for not sharing the news is massive and takes a toll.Sapphic means homosexual. This post is dedicated to all those people who have a different sexual orientation and preference.We need to respect every individuals choice - we need to peacefully coexist without discrimination.


Whether we subscribe to a particular belief or not  is immaterial, we cannot   dictate what is the mass consensus - because if tomorrow the mass consensus against homosexuality changes , then that will be the norm of the society and heterosexuality will standout. So lets respect each other and live peacefully.

December 8, 2011

Rumination

Dear Appa





I know you have dreams for me,
I know you have faith in me,
I know you have nurtured me,
But I want to fly away.

I know you have sat beside me,
I know you have cried with me,
I know you have died with me,
But I want to fly away.

I know you sacrificed for me
I know you struggled for me
I know you tried for me,
But I want to fly away.

I know you love me,
I know you care,
I know you would dare,
But I wish you just let me be, me.




~ Rachna Reddy






Gyanban Thoughts - These few lines are a precursor to the story that follows in my next post - Dear Appa. This one talks about trapped feelings that so many youngsters have which they cannot express and suffer internally.In this age of over-communication people often miss the thousands of words spoken in silence.

image courtesy : here

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