Tuesday, June 27, 2006

An Ode to my Beloved



Long are the days, and longer still are the nights
Hotter is the fever, And the wound, It pains all the more
Gone are those laughters, those hugs and those fights
Living life? Oh! That seems part of some old lore

I wanna dance with you, dance with you in the rain
I wanna sing and on my knees serenade
I wanna spin you round n round till 'pop' goes your vein
I wanna lie you down, and make you merry, fair maid!

You will come back, come back to me soon
But till then I'll be in deep slumber
You know what people call me? "Hey you lazy loon!"
But little do they know, that will only be till November!

Of Dogs and Pigeons...

“Be careful…be very very careful,” growled Sara in a low voice, as she crouched low to the ground, and pulled at her three-month old son Tinu’s ear by her teeth. The two of them were in a hunting expedition, trying, as they often did, to catch, what Tinu’s father Raina would frustratingly refer to as ‘those irritating pigeon lot which thinks itself a superior race to dogkind’. Eight year old Sara and the hirsute almost a decade-old Raina formed one ferocious pair and their rule over the fifty odd dogs that roamed the busy dusty streets of Marol, was imperious. They were deferentially referred to as THE DOG and THE BITCH by all.

Thus starts my latest attempt at a story. Await, and might be a long timel, the entire version.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

That was the crime that was (continued)

Overheard yet again – A mini conversation between the private secretary of Rangudu and the minister himself

Secretary: “Sir, there is an e-mail from the bank. It says that some money has been credited to your account. Should I go through the details?”

Rangudu: “You know better than to do that sweety…am sure it is not that big an amount that you should bother yourself with. So why don’t you come here (sweeping her off the floor and carrying her as if she were a kid) and lie down there (dropping her onto the cot with a grunt) and….”

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General Public reaction


Milk man to customer: “What Saar!!! Heard the news? Ramasamy is going to be on TV tonight. It is going to be one hell of a show. These TV people have asked to sms our queries so that Ramasamy can nicely give it back to that guy Rammohan. What Saar? What have you sms ed? This is a nice opportunity to show the world how unjust that trial was and how that Rammohan took 25 lakhs to put Ramasamy behind bars.”

Customer: “25 lakhs? Who gave you that number?”

Milk man: “What saar? You are so educated. Can’t you work out the numbers yourself? Its elementary math saar. Anyway, will you let me sms from your phone? I will show these people what I think of this entire thing.”

The door slams shut.

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The time arrives, there has been so much hoopla around this entire show that the whole nation, not to mention lots of people abroad, is eagerly awaiting it. In the setting, RPS himself has come to supervise the events. After all, this is a show in a lifetime and he can’t afford to miss it for anything in the world. Marketers had been working over time in trying to cash in on the opportunity. “SeeItAll” screens hired the premier cricket stadium in the country to screen the one-hour show. At an average entry charge of Rs 200, with the stands full (a total of a lakh people), that’s a lot of money to make in just the one hour. People huddle around TV shops in every city, First Sight, for the first time in TV history around the world, is expecting a viewer base of more than 95%, the most that has ever been for a single program. The venue, a garden on the local university campus, does not betray the significance of the event that is about to happen. The setting is as conventional as a quiz show, only that in this show, the two hundred invitees who are attending, are the top two hundred in the country, in that order, with no exceptions.

The kids do not know what is happening and are more concerned with the free juices being served. Suddenly one of them shouts out “Hey daddy, the lights are dimming. Look! Look!”

The lights did dim; the swivel camera zooms in from the top on to the two people hogging the only limelight in that area; a hush fell over the stands…The most watched show on the planet was on…

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Ramasamy: “I’d like to thank all those who gave me an opportunity to address the nation and have an hour’s chat with Mr. Rammohan. This kind of treatment does affirm the peoples’ belief in our principles of democracy and free speech. I’m sure Mr. Rammohan would agree”

(Questions about the meaning of democracy by some children, are quickly snuffed out by their irritated fathers.)

Rammohan: (Wiping his brow; the lights in the stage are too hot for comfort)”Yes, that’s true. We should have more shows like this”

(By the sidelines, without anyone noticing, RPS moves his head ever so slightly and that is received by an errand boy, who smiles in return.)

Ramasamy: “No! No! That would mean more prisoners going to jail unnecessarily right? Am sure you don’t mean that”

Rammohan: “Yes..I mean.. Of course not! I did not mean that.”

Ramasamy: “Now lets get straight to the topic. We have just one hour. What do you think about the present court acquitting me?”

Rammohan: (Looks nervously at the front row, straining his eyes, willing his sight to pierce through the incoming light, so that he could sight the incumbent head of the Madras high court) Giving up soon, he answers “Its nice. The court went by what evidence they had and they obviously saw some which I did not see, in the sense, they saw some which I did not have fourteen years back, and so acquitted you. That’s good!”

Ramasamy: “Good? Good for who Mr Rammohan?”

Rammohan: “Good for the justice system in our country, any country, and primarily, good for you! After all, it saved you a lot of trouble didn’t it?”

(Wipes his brow again. This time, the nod from RPS evokes response and how! To Rammohan’s embarrassment, the errand boy runs to his side and offers him a tissue, bringing forth stifled laughter from parts of the crowd)

Ramasamy: “Uncomfortable?”

(This emboldens the sections of the crowd, and the laughter is now very well heard, and covered by the camera. RPS is happy, and countless limbs across India relax, as people realize that they have been gripping on to whatever they could for a long while now)

Ramasamy: “Where were we? Ah yes! It did save me a lot of trouble. But what did you think happened that night? Do you have any idea as to what happened that night?”

Rammohan: “As far as the evidence that was presented before me, you, working as per instructions given to you by an insidious gang of people, ran your lorry over two members of the then opposition people, and hence I had to convict you.”

Ramasamy: “And what happened now? Why do you think these people acquitted me?”

Rammohan: “As far as the evidence presented towards them goes, you did not do that crime, and are hence to be relieved of all blame and the consequent trials that had been suffered by you, as required by law, based on the earlier conviction.”

Ramasamy: “Will you please speak normally and spare me that technical shit?”

(Gasps from the immediate audience, but the people at large are loving it!)


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RPS and Rangudu, on phone

Rangudu (He is one angry man): “Hey, didn’t we agree that this guy would behave? Words like ‘shit’ and all? What is happening? Are you people not deferring the telecast of the show by a few minutes?”

RPS: “Of course we are Sir! I think there is some snag, maybe the editor considered ‘shit’ acceptable. The problem is that he is sitting at Delhi and his phone is not reachable. Will somehow tell him about the inclusion immediately Sir.”

Rangudu: “You are increasing my blood pressure now. Do you realize that I can simply throw your money back at your face and ask you to cancel the show right away?”

RPS: “Yes Sir! But I’ll make sure that no more untoward event happens. You please sit back and enjoy the rest of….”

(And with that, with a crackle, the connection gets cut)

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Ramasamy: “Ok! Now that we are at the end of the story, tell me why on earth these guys would exonerate me without asking me about it?”

Rammohan(Laughs out loud): “Now that’s the strangest question ever posed to me in all my years of service! What is your problem? Why can’t you just leave, go home, and be a happy man, now that you are free?”

Ramasamy: “I’ll tell you why! That is the very reason I am here. To tell the whole world of the biggest mistake that has happened! Of the way you people have been treating me! And of the …”

(The murmurs in the crowd grow to a crescendo, the milkman is besides himself with joy and nudges people, advertising the 25 lakhs which Rammohan had obtained; the minister frantically dials RPS’s number only to be greeted by a “This phone is temporarily not reachable” message)

Rammohan: “Look, I do not know what you are aiming at, but I think…”

Ramasamy: “Oh we have all heard your thoughts till now. Let India hear mine for a change. What do you say people (He stood up to squarely face the camera and questioned the entire nation)”

(There was one resounding “YES”, coming so as it did from about 300 different dialects, and from more than a billion people. Scientists later calculated that the sound would have been audible from Mars!!!)

Ramasamy: “I am going to, in this stage, reveal who was exactly responsible for that crime. Its ME! None other than me!”

(Scientists later concluded that in the silence that ensued across the nation, a person in Kashmir, could have heard a pin drop in Kanyakumari, some argued maybe a brick, but definitely not a pin!)

Rammohan: “What the….Are you out of your mind? Do you realize what you have just now done?” Rammohan was shocked and relieved at the same time.

Ramasamy: “You keep your mouth shut! You haven’t been in jail for fourteen years have you? When finally I resign to fate and adjust to that tortuous way of life, these politicos, when I am stuck up in a hospital bed, because of some disease that you lot foisted on me, get me released so that they can make a sensation out of it and get votes in the upcoming election. I do not want this situation for anyone else. Now its me, tomorrow it will be someone else who actually did not commit a murder, who will go to jail. To stop all this once and forever…”

Saying so, he thrusts his hand deep inside his pocket and pulls out a nasty looking…

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THE HINDU

May 16, 2003
Chennai

…so violent was the reaction in various parts of the country that a person no less than the Prime Minister of India has ordered a complete enquiry into the issue. It is widely believed by political and judicial experts that at least a few top heads would roll. Since no journalist was allowed into the university and since the Prime Minister himself, who was present at the show, ordered closure of the camera, at that precise moment Ramasamy withdrew the object, no one in the country barring the 200 public servants (read ‘politicians’)is privy to the object he withdrew or what ensued in the commotion that prevailed. Last heard from sources is that Ramasamy is back in police custody and the case will be up for hearing very soon.

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THE INDIAN EXPRESS

June 1, 2003
Editorial

...such a deep impact has this incident left on the total political conscience of the nation that talks of a complete overhaul of the judicial system and the people running the jurisprudence, are rife. What the judges have to understand is that unless there is solid evidence, no person should be put in jail. Fourteen years in jail is a long time; accepted that Ramasamy had committed the crime, but one has to appreciate the man’s want to create justice and expose a worn out judicial system which has umpteen numbers of loopholes which politicians are only too willing to expose for personal gain.

At the end of it all, it is all one big sordid story, where the people who wanted to become heroes, had egg on their faces, ironically by their own actions, and the only guy who is laughing right now, and that too all the way to the Swiss banks, is RPS. God save the country!


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P S : This story was inspired by the tale of a person released in India after a prison term of more than 10 years, as the people concerned, found him not-guilty!

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

For want of a cake....

I, ten-year old Subramaniam Viswanathan, am a Brahmin in the strictest sense. Why, my parents even made me attend a patashaala in the evenings while the other kids in the street would play cricket. Oh! That was too much to bear. You will never understand unless you are in such a muddled situation. To top it all, I had to shave my head completely save a lock of hair. This caused me to become the center of attraction of all the boys (and girls) in the street, and not for favorable reasons. Several times I had argued with my father but to no avail. He is a strict man my father and wouldn’t stand any nonsense. And any suggestion of mine which went against our “customs” was nonsense to him.
Now I had this voracious liking for cakes. Ever since I was introduced to those spongy, creamy sweetmeats by Rahul, my schoolmate (I was strictly forbidden from eating outside food) I never missed an opportunity to secretly buy one from the neighbouring bakery. And till now I had managed escape.

Things changed on Independence Day, 2000.

It was a full five minutes before I even licked the cake. All that time I was thinking of the warm cream filling my mouth and tickling my taste buds. I turned over the cake, as my distended greedy eyes admired the work that had gone into it, ran my hands through the smooth contours of the cream, put my nose near its top and took in the heavenly smell of the chocolate (my personal favorite). I did not want that moment in time to pass. I was so naïve at that age that I even thought “Oh! I would have given even my remaining strands of hair to be able to pause this moment and relive it whenever I want to.”When the tension finally became too much to bear, I broke the cake into half through its middle so that it had a top half and a bottom one. I ran a long index finger over the cream that is usually smeared on the top part of the bottom portion, scooped the black chocolate fluid, extended my tongue, and slowly greased my tongue with the cream. Retracting my tongue inside I painted the insides of my mouth with the cream and vicariously enjoyed the sweet sensations that my taste buds were going through. The bottom portion was all cake and virtually no cream. So I gobbled it up in a hurry. Left with only the top portion - the best of them all - I plucked the cherry off leaving a mini crater on the cream. I opened my mouth and clamped down on the cake and the cream. Slowly, but surely!


“Thirudaa* Thirudaa*” The screams filled the shop as I spun around sharply. I froze like a deer in the line of headlights. As the shopkeeper’s blows rained on my bare back, I could faintly hear peals of laughter as I vainly tried to defend myself from the physical assaults. I had no doubts Rahul’s laughter was among them. As Kandan, the bakery owner (who had had a change of mind and decided to open shop today) pulled me through the street by the locks of my hair, voices rang in my head. They were of my friends telling me about Kandan “who will definitely not open his bakery today as it was Independence Day” and how “you would not get a better opportunity especially since the window is damaged today” and how it “will take a long time before Kandan repairs it.” I do not know whether they really wanted me to get into trouble (in which case they better hide from me for the next two weeks) or it was just an accident. As of now, my only concern was this man standing in front me, his eyes turning a deep crimson as Kandan spewed out all the details of my “robbery.” The man was my father…and he did not like what he heard. Pray for me!


* - Tamil for “Thief”