Anticlock

The raindrops darted in like arrows. She walked past the lamppost looking back occasionally, he was nowhere to be seen. She closed her eyes controlling the shivers . 

Suddenly  everything around her was calm. A cool wind blew across her face and she opened her eyes. She angled her wrist to see the time.

The dials were moving anti-clockwise ...

Gyanban Thoughts:  Got back to writing after a long gap. Just not getting the time and mood together. This is a shot at micro fiction, originally tried to do  a 55 word fiction but I guess it didn't work that  way.

Unstoppable

She stood in a corner,
watching the milestones go by,
her forehead frowned
as her reality drowned.

Deep inside it hurt no more
The cut was rare and blood oozing
She didn't know him or love him,
But her life changed on a solitary whim.

When the eventuality happened,
reality looked grim
she picked herself and walked
with her strength within.

Its about moving,not dying.
Its about living,and facing.
Its about fighting and wining,
Its about running,unstopping.

Gyanban Thoughts - A few lines dedicated to all victims of abuse,violence,atrocities. Don't lose hope, keep fighting and keep your chin up,there are good things in this world still and perhaps that's why its not stopped spinning.We don't have the answers now,but you have our prayers,and wishes, truly.

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.

Pluck - If trees could talk...

This is a story of three friends Maple , Elma & Olivia.I am one of them.

One day the angels decided to go down to their favorite orchard and see how everyone was living their lives. They had been blessed with special powers to grant wishes.

There were three friends they were particularly keen on observing Maple, Elma and Olivia.

They had heard from the orchard that these were the best of the lot.

Maple wasn’t tall, she wasn’t the prettiest and no one quite took notice of her. She would stand in one corner all day long and watch the children play with many of her friends.

As time flew by she grew lonely and dejected, and felt she had no hope for the future. The summers were harsher than before, the winters were colder than ever, and she didn’t even quite enjoy the spring.

Just across the orchard, there was Elma. Tall beautiful, and magnificent. Every time she saw her, she grew even more depressed. Slowly, she began to lose her positivity about everything around her.The lilting rain she once loved had turned into nothing more than leeches and mud for her. She'd lost her friends, her acquaintances.

Seeing her so depressed, the angels swooped down and granted her a wish.

‘I want to be as tall as Elma’ she said.

‘Is that all?’ Are you sure?’. Asked the angels.

‘Yes I am’ Maple reaffirmed firmly.

Then the angels decided to pay a visit to Elma and see if she had any concerns.

‘I’m too tall, and often ostracized because of my height, I want to be like Maple, and be short and accessible, so that more people feel I am approachable and friendly. I am trapped in this perception.

Angels consulted with each other and decided to grant her the wish.

In third corner there was Olivia. She was quietly observing and thinking. The angels took notice and drifted towards her.

‘Olivia since Maple and Elma have been granted a wish, we are thinking if you had any?’ asked one of the angels.

‘Well I saw that, but I guess I am happy the way I am’

The angels looked surprised and asked again. Olivia nodded with the same answer.

‘Well then be happy, we will see you soon’ said the angels in unison and flew away.

Maple and Elma were ecstatic on their new found appearances and did not even notice each other’s change as they were so engrossed with themselves.

Olivia was the first to notice the oncoming storm. She shouted out to Elma and Maple but they wouldn’t listen. Olivia took protection firmly grounded herself and got ready to weather the storm.

Storm unleashed rain and thunder with strong winds. Elma being the tallest fell first. She could not weather the storm and finally fell to ground. Maple was short so she weathered the storm a bit better.

Olivia was the safest, she was ready for it and weathered it wonderfully well.

After the tumultuous night, sunrise showed the destruction all around. Olivia and Maple were the only ones left among all their friends. The orchard was looking like a blood strewn battlefield.

Seeing how lucky she’d been Maple laughed out loud. Hearing her laughter the scavengers nearby sensed that there could be something which would keep them busy for a while. Promptly, they

Reached the orchard and saw Maple laughing at her fortune. The scavengers saw this as a wonderful opportunity to catch her off-guard and took her away.

Olivia got saved as she stood quietly in the corner.

Many moons later, she went on to carry the man some people referred as Jesus.

~ Olivia.

Gyanban Thoughts - In this story, as is obvious Maple, Elma and Olivia are trees, Maple, Elm and Olive. Olivia is narrating the story.This fantasy fable is riveted around the basic premise of people being unhappy with what they have. We always want more or get into comparisons and want what others have.Little do we realize that along with the other side of the greenery, there are problems that come along too. Unfortunately our society is designed in such a way today that comparison brings out the worst in us and we chase that utopian existence.

There are instances where the cross which Jesus was crucified, was made out of Olive wood from the Olive tree.

The title Pluck means the quality of being brave and determined.

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Just Beautiful .

As the darkness gave way to twilight, the birds got their message to wake up and spread the word. The melody drifted into little Rebecca’s ears. 

She wasted no time and floated into the courtyard facing the fields. It was to be the last time she would see that view.Rebecca soaked in the early morning summer sun, the only time earth beneath her feet was cool. In a few hours it would heat up the fields as the scorching relentless sun had done for so many months now.

The drought in the region had intensified over the last few weeks, crops were dying, and the cattle weakening. Although a small village, generations had thrived, and peacefully existed.. The only source of water was from an offshoot of a river which had slowly reduced to a trickle.

More and more people left the village and soon it was time for George & his wife Oviya to leave the village with their only child Rebecca. The decision was tough, the future unknown and insecure.

‘We can’t go on like this any more. We need to head out to the city and find ways and means to keep living. Trust me, this is the right decision’ lamented George.

Oviya nodded in agreement. Rebecca in denial.

That noon the mercury touched 47C,the sun was beating down every soul and soon a faint trickle snowballed into hoards of people moving out of the place. It seemed the resistance had reached a tipping point.

George and Oviya were in the final stages of packing their meager belongings and getting ready to leave. Rebecca stood below the old Mango tree crying softly. She had seen the tree ever since she was born. She had climbed, jumped, swung and eaten Mangoes sweet and sour.

‘I think you should leave little one’ the Mango tree spoke.

‘How can I ? ‘All my life you have been my only friend ,how can I leave you?’ Rebecca retorted.

‘I will be right here waiting for you – go on now’ the Mango tree reassured.

Reluctantly, Rebecca went back into the house to get ready to move out of the village with her parents. 

Just then, there was a commotion outside.

The climate was extremely dry. Dry leaves,twigs and trees- a perfect conduit for fire.It was a forest fire. Every tree around them had caught fire. This could block their exit from the village. George had to act quickly.

He rushed back to pick up whatever was packed and yelled to Oviya and Rebecca to get out of the house.

‘Where is Rebecca? Oviya screamed.

‘I thought she was with you inside?’

Panic-stricken George screamed from the rear window.  Rebecca wasn't hiding there.

George rushed out to see the old Mango tree burning & little Rebecca near the burning Mango tree. 

She had an earthen pot in her hand.

‘What are you doing Rebecca, get out of there NOW’ - yelled George running towards her.

Rebecca replied, ‘I am pouring water to stop the fire father.’

George saw the small earthen pot she had taken from the kitchen – she  sprinkled water on the Mango tree.

‘What are you doing? Do you really think this little water will stop that raging fire? 

Rebecca looked back and said – ‘I don’t know if it will stop – but I can at least try to do what I can.’

Seeing the little girls plight, the passing God’s beckoned the clouds and rain followed.

Gyanban Thoughts - This story is based on the great Kabir's fables.It is about commitment.It is about continuity.It's about going on in spite of adversitites.In the times we live,there are so many alternatives, and choices, that somewhere we stop trying to make things work.In this big world of choices,and better alternatives, sometimes it makes sense to stick to the roots and belive in your efforts and your work - your originality.

The beauty is in trying - not giving up.The beauty is in continuity not alternatives,the beauty is in trying to do what you can,rather than wait for the right situation.We all have this beauty within us,just a question of bringing it out.

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Summer of '99

‘If I don’t, who will save him?’ pondered Shershah amidst the chaos.

His mind buzzed with rapid-fire thoughts.

‘It’s not a choice really’ he reassured himself & jumped into the crossfire.

‘Get up, you have to make it’ Shershah yelled repeatedly from above.

For the first time in his life, the body disobeyed the mind.

Gyanban Thoughts – What were you doing in the summer of 99? Think about the time you were 24 years old. What fun were you having ? What pleasant memories you have about those delirious parties, innocent romances the thrill of your first salary check perhaps.

And then think about Captain Vikram Batra,24, died saving his men in the battlefield. Posthumously awarded Param Vir Chakra, nations highest military honour, while we hummed to the tune of Yeh Dil Maangey more( my heart wants more) the popular cola advert.! Ironically this became the war cry for Captain Vikram Batra.

Nick-named Sher Shah (King of Lions) for his unflinching courage, he was killed when he tried to rescue an injured officer in the battled field. Think about his mindset before he took that decision to jump into an obvious hazardous cross-fire.

And I think to myself - When was the last time you did something brave? Something selfless? Something that does not amount to any benefit to you ?

Captain Batra – True courage needs no adjectives. Salute.