December 30, 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 colors from black and white to multiple shades of grey.

What happens to her? How does she cope up ? What does she eventually learn ?

What Makes This Story ‘Real’

Every lie, has a moment of truth in it. We all live our lies at some point in our lives, how we chose to deal with it determines if it was a nightmare or a fairytale.

Extract –

The floor was wet, quite slippery…and that was by design. The attendants did not want any friction. They really couldn’t care less who it was, they all looked the same to them. One room one window and one bed would probably not mean much to most, but for her it was where she found love...ironically.

"This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India."

December 23, 2012

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 hospital bed, probably searching for  God to answer her questions.And where is God today?

Edited to add: Dec 29. Amanat/Damini/Nirbhaya ...she is no more.

December 11, 2012

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 asylum.

image courtesy : here

Fade away

and then, just like that, one day we will fade away, aging books on empty shelves, receding memories of ourselves, sail away l...