Writing is simple,but not easy.

February 28, 2013

Co Exist



This heart does not wait
This wait has no heart
This time has no patience
This patience know no time.

This love know no bounds
This binding knows no love.
This touch has no feeling,
This feeling has no touch.

This road has no ending,
This ending has no road.
This cliff has no fall
This fall has no cliff.

This search has no end
This end has no search
This God is never seen
This sight sees no God.

This darkness sees no light
This light sees no darkness.
This fight has no freedom
This freedom has no fight.

This life has loneliness,
This loneliness has no life.
This poetry has no meaning
This meaning has no poetry.


This song has no soul.
This soul sings no song.
This flight has no sky
This sky sees no flight.

This hate has no end
This end has no hate.
This origin has no end
This end has no beginning…





Gyanban Thoughts : These few lines are an abstract representation of infinity or the cyclical nature of life or even co existence of duality and opposites which surround us.And this is my 200th post.

February 23, 2013

Tele Phony



'Hello, is it Mrs.Vinobha's  residence?'
'Yes,who is this?'
'Madam we are calling from Shakti Detective Agency'
'Oh'
'We wanted to let you know that your suspicion was right - your husband is with another woman right now, and we have proof of photographs.
'I knew it - that bastard'
'Madam where can you make our balance payment?'
'You will get it sent tomorrow ,I'll send the driver with the check'
'Ok Madam'

-----------


'Hello is it Mr.Vinobha?'
'Ah is that Geetanjali?'
'Yes sir'
'Oh call me Jayant - you know me in an out by now'
'We have just received a new set of Solitaires from South Africa, just the design you were looking for'
'Oh I guess it was worth the wait for so many days afterall'
'When can we expect you?'
'I am on my way'

--------------

'Hello, this is Mrs.Shantala Vinobha... mmm this is Ms.Shantala Chinoy from Versova Angel apartments'
'Details?'
'Blue shirt,Black trouser, rimless frame,5 feet 11 inches,90kilos,Blue BMW number 7376'
'Will be done'
'Sure?'
'Our bullets haven't missed the previous 22 targets,make sure money is ready'
'First proof then money'
'We can even present a part of the body, but that would cost you more'
'Just shoot'
'Ok'

------------

'Hello'
'Hello'
'Hello'
'Hello - she's alone at home now'
'Ok, address?'
'1401 Versova Angel Apartments'.
'Where's the money?
'Ah I ve got a special South African Solitaire'
'We need cash not diamonds'
'Listen this stone is worth a INR1.2 cr -besides no one will suspect me either'
'Thank you Mr.Vinobha'

The phone disconnected.





Gyanban Thoughts -  This short story was written with a twist which focused on misdirection.The story is entirely over a telephone call,hence aptly titled Tele-phony.It primarily revolves around insecurities that arise in people over time,without actually knowing about it.And sometimes these lead to twisted endings.













February 13, 2013

The Rama Cafe


‘What time do we meet?’ 
‘He will be there at 7 AM to greet his blind followers’ 
‘Well its 6AM already – lets get started’.
‘There’s no hurry my friend, we can get there on time, why we can even have a cup of coffee’. 
‘They’d warned me that you are a bit weird…but this weird, I couldn’t have imagined’! 
‘Ah what’s wrong with a hot cup of coffee…before we write history?’ 

Narayan was perspiring at six in the morning, although Delhi wasn’t all that humid in January. ‘You are crazy, you know that right?’ . 

‘Well lets discuss that on our way to the coffee stall’ he said. 

As the two friends walked past the Birla House, they spotted the familiar Café at a distance, but something was odd. It didn’t look like the one they were familiar with and the door was closed. 

‘That’s odd – I ve been here for the last 6 months, it opens by 5 AM’ ‘Its 6:30 – and its still closed – strange.’ 
Narayan went near the door and tried to force it open. But the lock seemed different. He had not seen this before. He gestured to his friend to come and have a look. ‘You have to pull not push Narayan’ the friend said. The door opened. As the two men stood in front, a cold breeze greeted them at the door. 

There was a hint of coffee in the air …they walked in. ‘What is this place? ‘Narayan asked. 

‘Look at the lights on the ceiling, as if they are hidden but still showing and shining so brightly’ 
'I’ve never seen something like this before.' Narayan looked around, the bright orange and beige combination was something he’d never seen before. The couches were of a different material. He touched them and his fingers sank into the soft leather. 

‘Sir what would you like to have today – a mocha or a single shot espresso?’ 

The two friends looked at each other puzzled. ‘What is that?’ 
‘Well sir its a type of coffee ? Have you not been here before?’ 
‘Yes we have, uh no, no actually not this one…or not this type. ‘Narayan said. 
‘Well sir I can help you with that – there are different types of coffee beans, and you can choose the combination you want, black,decaf,or latte with milk or caramel. So which one will it be for you?’

‘How much?’ 
‘How much for which one sir?’ 
‘Just a regular coffee’ Narayan said. 
‘Sir there is nothing called a regular coffee here’. 
'How can you not a have coffee in a coffee stall? Narayan was getting restless.

‘Ok ok, how much is a coffee with milk?’

‘Ah Café latte will cost you about Rs.300 including taxes.’ 
‘What?’ 
‘Yes sir you heard it right’ 
‘That’s what I earn in a year perhaps’ 
‘I am sure you are joking sir, but if you need sometime to decide I am happy to come back to you a bit later’ the steward said retreating back to the counter. 

‘Lets get out of here’ Narayan said. For the first time his friend was speechless and in agreement. The men were puzzled and looked at each other in disbelief. 

‘Wait what time is it? The friend asked the steward. ‘Sir – its 8AM – you can go now’ he said with a mystical smile. ‘We missed it again’ Narayan whispered. It was January 30th, 1948 -Narayan Apte and Nathuram Godse missed their mission for the 6th time.





Gyanban Thoughts - This is pure play fiction where surreality is mixed with reality.The sensory elements such as sight,taste,smell,hear have been fused into the story.This story is by no means disrespectful towards anyone sentiments.This just explores a possibility of what if from a futuristic angle. 

The Mahatma was killed on the 6th attempt, the previous 5 attempts had been unsuccesful.It was this fact that triggered the story.






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