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Showing posts from 2012

Chafe - 'my entry to the GetPublished contest’

She was a troubled child. She wanted love but that would have to wait. That’s a story for some other time. I promise.
For now, let us walk down those memory lanes which were her first few steps in finding love. Sharp, intelligent, enterprising and a great sense of humor were some adjectives commonly used to describe her at fourteen. At twenty, she was on her way to become the  most qualified girl in her family and by the time she was nearing thirty she had a top job in the city she loved.

For many, this would be a dream come true, but for her it was a rude awakening. What is love? A question she asked at every step of her life and perhaps never got answered. She kept looking, kept going till the day she got married.
What happened after that, what happened before that ,are a series of events dotted across people places and their different faces…men mostly, different ages,types and sizes. A journey that oscillates between a covered surrealism and an exposed truth. How a simple life changes…

For 'Amanat'

Are you watching this? Do you feel the pain? Where is your protection ? Or is my faith in vain?
How can you sit quiet? Why wont it rain? Is this what you made? Or is my faith in vain?

When will you appear? When will you tame? Is this always the same? Or is my faith in vain?

How many more deaths? When will you ease the pain ? Will you still keep us waiting? Or is my faith in vain?
How long will she lay still? Will you give her the will to live again? Is the world safe and sane? Or have I lost my faith in vain?

Gyanban Thoughts - there are too many things that are going wrong in the world today.My only question to God is what is HE waiting for? It took a million years for animals to become humans, looks like we are in a hurry to get back to origin.
I think of those people who committed this crime and how an innocent child grows up to become a beast? Who is responsible for their belief system , their thought process or their audacity ? 
"Amanat" is on life support today...lying there in the hospita…

Room number 23

Isabelle walked out of her hotel room # 23.

She stood for a moment to think about what happened inside.
She had just killed her husband of twenty three years.He lay there in a pool of blood.
Her hands were trembling as she stood under the air conditioner vent.

'I will give my self up - whats the use of living now?'she said.
No sooner did she say this - the duct above opened and sucked her in.

'Isabelle come back' a loud voice screamed from behind.

 The doctor's voice echoed in Issac's ears - 'Its acute amnesia - don't take her out of the hospital.' as he drifted back into reality.

A dejected Issac, went back to his ward number 23.He opened his eyes to see the familiar grilled windows and padded cell.

Gyanban Thoughts -  Writing a twisted tale after a long time. The number 23 plays a role for some reason.This is an experiment in double twist.First when you think the obvious and then the subtle.The word ward is used here to indicate a mental a…


Where is my tie?
Look in the drawer
Ashwin walked close to the Almira,looked into the mirror one last time.
Opened the left half and tugged at the handle of the drawer.
It was dark,he reached outinside.
There were hankies on left,some buttons in the center, and another hand on the right.

Gyanban Thoughts : Withdrawal Symptoms was the alternative title I was toying with.Anyways, a post after a long time - had been travelling and almost ran into Sandy.It was in one of the hotels this idea struck me -what if there was another hand inside a drawer - would it freeze time for you?

Monalisa Smile

Walking by the art gallery Rebecca was lost in thoughts of her daily life.
'What a wasted life - the artist in me has died' she brooded.
'My life is all about duty' she said looking at the famed replica.
'And look at you – smiling for centuries’.
Rebecca’s mobile was buzzing, it was from an unidentified number.
She disconnected it a couple of times,but the caller persisted,finally she took the call.
‘Who’s this?’
A feeble woman’s voiced spoke -‘Smiles carried me through the miles of time’
Trembling, Rebecca looked up at the painting again – Monalisa was smiling.

Gyanban Thoughts : and the mystery continues....

image courtesy : here


A bleeding streak braves, Nonchalant darkness Hope ,naked stark, waits beneath.
Illuminating in its journey, Darkness waits patiently, Love drops, wet the sheath.
Rise and fall ,enthrall Deep inside is god and devil lies beneath.

Gyanban Thoughts - A haiku series tied up as a full length poem. The attempt was to draw a parallel with an object and a feeling.Lot of images came to my mind,a comet,hope, light and darkness. Note a faint underlying double entendre with the devil's angle.There s some imagery around the act of making love and the intensity of it all.


Dark forest stoic resilience Reason volcanoes Ego, cogito ergo sum...

Gyanban Thoughts - Attempted haiku - trying to co relate the resilience of the forests with ego - a mix of the external with the internal,  symbolic representation only conflicted with reason as this sole opposition to the force.Who wins in the end ?


The Predator:

At 14, she was unexplored,untouched,unfelt.The colors of the world were monochrome, sepia or at best a touch of tan.The sun tan was evenly spread,the interruptions were out of the way and the feeling was sublime.
On hindsight,it was perhaps the beauty of the moment that painted the picture in my mind.The first shades of my personality were painted on that beautiful sight.I was stepping into the age of freedom from shackles and curfews.
The moon chose to hide and the stars shied away,I followed my prey. The momentary lapse of reason had strong roots in chaos,hurt and pain.A childhood betrayed,beaten and frayed. The urge was intense, the assault brutal.

The scuffle graduated into a battle,and the veins revolted in pain.I could take it no longer,but had no one to restrain.I bit the nape,pinned the hands and covered her body with mine.The moment was nigh,and the kill almost done,just then…

The prey:
I fought back with rage,grabbed the vase and smashed his head,he trickled down my h…

Judgement Day

Morning never shows the day.The surrounding was rather oblivious to the naked eye.A broken window,a network of cobwebs a few friendly spiders and some termites for company.There I stood in one corner,untouched,uncared for long.
My bones are no longer as strong as they used to be but I am still holding on,still standing out in a crowd, or so I’d like to believe.I want to talk but have no one to listen,I have a heart burning with desire but no one to love it.I am old but invaluable.
Just as I thought of this moment as the end of the world, there was a noise, someone was breaking in.I wanted to shout, scream alert everyone,but too frail to execute the idea.Its been so long since anyone ever visited me or felt me or even thought about me.
But today was different. The gloomy dark days of solitude were being explore again – but who dare do that? Why? Why now after all these years? As I stood there scared and pondering about the noise behind the door, it opened with the click of the key.

Point of view

Detective Domble walked into the room with some degree of nonchalance. A scenario he had witnessed multiple times before, nothing new, nothing alarming. It was the usual, a dead body,some dried blood, a strong odor, murder weapon and a missing culprit,which he would eventually hunt down, etc. He had seen this a hundred times before. It was easy or so he thought.
Only this time his eyes welled up with tears as he folded his knees and crouched on the ground…as the predator waited behind him….

Gyanban Thoughts : A short flash fiction where the hunter becomes the hunted.A simple predictable plot,the focus was in capturing the contrasting moment which transcends from nonchalance to shock.

The Whistleblower

Getting up at 5AM on a Monday morning is not the best situation to be in for a seven year old, for any seven year old if you ask me.I am thirteen now and when I sit down to jot one of the earliest memories of my life, all I can recall are the sights, sounds and smells of those times.
The sight of Ma scolding me for not waking up on time, her face would turn a shade of crimson ,a dangerous contrast to the serenity of the dreamy blue just a few minutes before. The sound of her voice menacingly piercing my brain, wracking every corner – something similar to the treatment Tom gets from Jerry. Crash , boom , bang,aah – are some sounds I ll never forget ever in my life.

And then the smell of cream biscuits, yes they do have a smell, bourbon has a distinct smell than that of ParleG,which I don’t like much because it does not have any cream, not to forget the drinking chocolate smell, it also left a mark on my life….and my school shirts!
It was one of those dreadful days, that the teacher anno…

Soul Pyre

Brutal screams and muted walls
falling rains and weeping Gods,
cowardice hands and innocent tears,
empty eyes and an eternal smear,

nameless faces on empty walls,
hiding behind those forgotten halls,
crouch in darkness till the storm fades,
arise they will with new charades,

today a country lit its funeral pyre
burning in shame burning with ire,
light your soul with elan
rise up o fallen man...

Gyanban Thoughts - these few lines are dedicated to the sad turn of events in the Assam and Mangalore moral policing cases. These people who do such a cheap act need to be publicly prosecuted and exposed - so that they live the rest of their lives with a tag/shame of being a coward.

image courtesy: here

Broken Strings

Broken strings and memories,
Knots join the threaded stories
Layers lie beneath the pain,
Those eyes will never meet again.

The loving touch and tender care,
Loved and left in despair,
Hesitant feet and a stifled tear,
The curling palm and a stinging smear.

A reluctant life passes by,
Times spent,laughter and sigh,
Thirfty love and emotions run dry,
Complete the circle of a sullen goodbye.

Gyanban thoughts - a few lines dedicated to those people who are no longer part of their loved ones,who are separated from their families and friends.Some relationships once broken can never join again,just like borken strings, the knots that force that join will forever remind of what broke those strings.Yet these people will remain hidden in some corner of your heart as they had once touched your life.Some kites will just fly away wth broken strings...

Flamingo City

The Virar local left at 8:02 AM as usual. The ride was usual but today, the end was going to be fascinating.

Twenty five-year-old Kalpana Patel had made it to her dream job in the Indian Forest Services. Her long cherished dream of being an IFS officer was about to come true. Kalpana was on her way to Churchgate station to collect the certificates from the UPSC center.
‘Congratulations beta I am proud of you’ texted Jatinbhai Patel her businessman father. Jamnaben Patel, called immediately after –‘Baka now you need to think about getting married, bahu thayi giyo. At your age I was already carrying your sister – do you realise how time is running out?’
Kalpana didn’t respond, her life was not going to be relegated to a Virar-Churchgate fast local, cutting vegetables and assisting her father’s business in South Mumbai. Yet here she was in a Mumbai local train unsure how her future would unfold.

 As the train moved in slow rhythmic oscillations, Kalpana put on the headphones and drifted awa…

Inhale Insight

'From about 110,000 kinds of smells in nature, humans perceive just about 100-200'

''Yes you ve told that to me before.' Mrs.Sarayu Joglekar whispered into his ears.
Mr.and Mrs.Joglekar sat next to each other holding hands on seat 34A and 34B. Mr.Joglekar was next to the window.He touched the window with the back of his fingers.It was cold.
'How much longer?' Mr.Joglekar inquired.
'Its about 15 hours from Bangalore we are only into the sixth hour my dear.'
'I cant wait to see Lake Como'.
'Be patient darling it still will be about two hours from the Milan airport.'
This was the first international holiday for the couple,and they had waited twenty five years to fulfill this long cherished dream.Mrs.Joglekar was a professor in the prestigious Wellington College and she worked hard to keep their life moving through the everyday challenges.

It was her idea to go for this vacation.The choice of destination was Italy. Simply because…


There was a stretch of road that screamed of the vast emptiness on either side. A distant horizon was the only guiding light. Winters in the deserts of Rajasthan were particularly unforgiving. No civilization in sight, no habitation, just sand and plenty of time on their hands and some more elements that completed the perfect picture, aptly titled ‘Stranded’.
Just as the sun-set, Mohita and Mallika’s cross country journey sputtered and spattered to a screeching halt.Nothing to look forward and nothing to go back.

‘What do we do now?’Mohita the quieter one spoke out of nervousness. ‘Stop being such a sissy – when I am there, you don’t have to worry about anything’ – the bolder one retorted sharply.

Mallika got out of the car and stretched her arms as if nothing had happened, yawned and looked around with lazy elegance.Mohita followed suit , gingerly alighting the car inhaling the cooling breeze blowing across.

‘Looks like the breeze is picking up speed’ Mohita opined. ‘Now what?’

Mallika of…