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Showing posts from 2014

Case, History.

"Yes, that's how it all ended Mi lord" said Vera Wallace looking at the judge's hammer.
"Madam Wallace,you do realize what you're saying is quite bizarre?"the judged asked craning his neck.
"Yes Mi lord,it is what it is"she said.
"Well,in light of this new revelation,Madam Vera Wallace is guilty as charged.Sentenced to One year in prison and fifty thousand pounds as fine.
Vera Wallace was convicted,by self admission,for money laundering at Henry Brooks Trust.

One Year later,Madam Vera Wallace received a newspaper article in her prison mailbox.It read " Case closed : Killer not found". 

Vera let out a quiet smile as she scribbled "the wait is over".

Gyanban Thoughts : A classic heist /misdirection story. This needed a twist in the end to really kick into a larger, longer story but time is a luxury that few can afford.Note the little comma in the title,that's by design.

The Perfect Symmetry

After a tough day at work Sanjeevani Iyer stopped in front of the elevator door getting ready to go home.

She noticed that the elevator was at the fifteenth floor,that meant a five or seven minute wait. She pressed the down arrow and went  back to fidgeting with the phone.

A few minutes went by and she realized that she hadn't checked where the elevator was.She looked up to find the indicator blank. The elevator display did not show which floor it stopped.She decided to take the staircase ,but the door was locked.She turned around to see the opposite elevator display was blank as well.There was no exit from that floor.All doors were closed and none of the elevators showed any signs of movement.

Sanjeevani frantically dialled a few numbers only to realize that there was no network.The phone switched off automatically.There were five lights on the ceiling and each was switching off one after the other.The darkness in that square corridor grew deeper. She shrieked out loud.And then aga…


When the stars saw me as a boy,
They danced with joy,
They twinkled and shined.
They had found one of their kind.

When they saw my adolescence
It just made perfect sense.
The verve,love and confidence,
Proud of their created magnificence.
Then one day the lights came on,
They saw the lipstick I put on
You're not our kind,
How could we be so blind.

They wanted their star again
Even if the heavens didn't rain
Queer was not the same
Their universe would complain.

Walking alone on my way
A stranger stopped to say
You were born this way
Proud of my clay.

He asked me to try
and showed me why
I had the belief within
to light up the sky.

Continuing with the theme from the story "Missing",I'd written this poem but edited it out of the main submission.It was dedicated to Fanus Mistry,his struggles,his resolve,his passion and his victory.

#Celebrateblogging  #blogadda

The Game of Blogs - A Memoir

The Game of Blogs.

Every time,such a contest comes along,there is one thing which is constant :Chaos.

Therefore it is imperative one finds an opportunity in the middle of chaos.It is imperative to keep calm - as that is, the second most tested fact.Finally, the third most tested fact is consistency.

Our group was a diverse mix of energy,ideas,writing styles and stretched time lines...just like anyone else.So what was it that we did differently?  For starters , our central thought,essence was to make our story believable.Real. 

After all, unlike reality,writing fiction has to make sense.

Little did we know- how this would go on to become the most challenging bit in this whole exercise.

The challenges began even before the first word was written.Who would lead? After a few "you first" I'll support you" rounds the gauntlet settled on one of the team mates.The challenge was to get the rest to follow.  

Few realise at the beginning,how is it going to be in the end.So it w…

Missing - Finale

Episode  -24

Fanus Mistry sat in a corner of the cafĂ© just before the escalator into security check. The espresso rim on the porcelain cup had dried up. People strolled across the leather tan sofa where Fanus Mistry sat for the last hour. A little girl, sitting on the edge of a  trolley loaded with suitcases , looked at him and yawned. Fanus snapped out of the blank gaze.
The phone screen showed "Boman Uncle". Fanus finally clicked on the green button after multiple rings.
"Dikra - where are you and Cyrus?" He is not picking up the phone  ,I'm worried ,please come home  - I beg you" Boman Daruwala broke down into a silent sob.
"Uncle, he is not coming back to Delhi" he said.
"I don't understand, I mean if he is not coming back to Delhi what is he going to do in Mumbai?" he asked.
"Mission Roohi" Fanus said looking at the little girl on the trolley.
"Mission what? Who ? What is this?" Boman asked.

Missing - Episode 18

Episode -17

Ballard Estate - 

Sometimes I wish I was that child running in the garden with freedom, without any worries, becauseI know now, bruised elbows are easier to heal than broken hearts.
Dr.Sneha remembered the scribbled lines on canteen table. The wood and wrought iron bench in the far corner, the hot cup of masala tea, lasting cinnamon fragrance in the air and those long conversations about life and death. The stolen glances, the fleck of ketchup on his pristine white shirt, Dr.Sneha replayed the most vivid moments in her mind.
"Doctor Phadnis - are you alright?" Tara asked craning her neck.
"Uh-Yes - yes, everything is fine, please continue" Sneha replied.
"I was just saying that Dr.Ahuja has been a great support to our family, he is a compassionate man and understands Roohi's complications so well. We are truly grateful." Tara said waving Roohi's hair.
"How did you find him?" Sneha asked.
"Come to think of it, h…

Missing - Episode 16

Episode -16

Ramada Hotel; Floor 9, Room #211. Juhu Bach, Mumbai.

Jennifer Joseph, finally yielded into temptation. She lit a cigarette, inhaled, held it for a few seconds and then exhaled. Jennifer got up from the bed and walked to the window to tap the ash off her cigarette. The window frame captured the sunset, some nameless faces on aimless shores,floating in and out and the Arabian Sea.

The room was lit with two lampshades which highlighted the bronze shade on her hair. It had one empty coffee cup with stains at the bottom,and a maroon lipstick on the rim. A muted television played in the background, light curtains half drawn, the air conditioner set at sixteen degrees, an open laptop with the wireless light blinking, and the balcony window slightly open to let out the smoke.
“Jjo think, think think...what does a movie blogger have to do with Juhu beach and a child? What’s the connection? Oh God don't tell me he could be a paedophile,but then the girl seemed happy with him…