Few incidents would have left scars to my memories and unfortunately more and more are expected to surface. I am deeply saddened and feel very sorry for all those who are effected by bomb blasts in India. Sitting thousands of miles away, writing a blog would be the easiest thing to do, a selfish act of consolation and a lucid act of healing. But, I think that at least I can pay my respects to all those innocents who are being victimized by a long standing coward act of terrorism in all and every means.

Interestingly, we live our lives compromised, every moment and every minute. If you would have to go out and not expect to face a big blast, things would have been easier, but the reality is different. Two days back, every single news media in India are swamped by the aftermath of the Delhi blasts, and we are now back to square-one. Compromise can be termed as the general quality of a human life, especially in India. I am sad and out-raged by the constitutional power of the Indian Government and equally disappointed by our Judiciary. If every incident is confronted with compromise, when do we see an end to these massacres? Indian citizen compromise so hard that is is impossible to believe the fact what he or she faces every single day. There are few and hard solutions for these incidents, and the Government should act aptly, responsibly and hard.

I think we mistook the Lord’s saying, “Paritranaya Saadhunam…” and are living dangerously implying that God shall come down one day and punish all the bad. What he really meant was to redeem ourselves and find the very God that exists within ourselves and do the ‘Sambhavam” that he very Lord insisted. It is time to do the retrospection and act bravely and be strong to face the enemy. There is nothing more precious or valuable than a human-life on this planet. Losing one has the at most sorrow a human can think of and we should not compromise.

I wish we can add an a smile to our face (a big E) and put it right in the middle of compromise and say ‘comEpromise’ or come-promise that I will fight and stay bold.

Come, promise that we will do that. My sincere and heartiest sympathies to all those wonderful lives, who sacrifised for the great fact that a cowardly act like a bomb blast shall not degrade our morale and we START our lives every single day and LIVE it to the fullest.

Stories of Life – The train journey

I do not exactly remember the date, however I do remember that I was in my 7th grade at that time and we are going to Narsapur (my Mom’s native) by train. The reason why I remember this journey is one person. And, to dramatize the events…

It was the evening time and we just left the platform, waving goodbye to everyone on the platform. For those who do not know these train journeys in India, go get a life! I don’t recall if it was July or August, but based on what I remember all I could guess is that it should have been August. Again, for record, Augusts in Hyderabad are generally romantic and occasionally sexy. The cold breeze, light blue skies and puffs of white clouds decorate and scent the city for most part. It gives me great pleasure when I look at those skies, calm and peaceful while God is always thinking of how to paint that huge canvas.

I am too selfish to leave the window seat to anyone and we were slowly leaving Hyderabad, 30 minutes into the journey. I was feeling the air with my palm and the rest of the family are still working out on other stuff like who sleeps where, who eats what and when and brother was busy searching for another window seat and occasionally trying to get to the top berth.

We had our dinner around 30 past 8 and slowly the light started disappearing into the wild. Most of the folks in the train were busy eating and there was this odd and uneasy calm. I normally prefer sleeping on the upper berth. By the way, there are normally 6 berths on one side and two berths on the other with a walkway separating these two in II class compartments. We were four and the other two were still empty. I guess someone would either join us in the middle of the journey or they might just be ours to enjoy 🙂

Anyway, I popped myself to the upper berth and switched on the fan turning its head towards me. You won’t get too much light up there except for the light sneaking in from similar heights. I was an great fan of Chandamama and since I knew we have a long journey, I decided to read it twice. Being late to bed that day, I felt the stop over and thought that this train is on for a short break. I could hear odd noises at the time of the hour. I think it was close to 10 pm and I almost decided to shut my eyes down. I hanged my head over the berth disturbed by some noise in our side of the train. The other two berths that were empty got the company. Both were females (hm mm!). I thought it was a grandma grandchild combination and of course I found later that I was right. The old lady requested my dad if he would take the middle berth. They got the middle and the top berths. Lucky me to for the fact that the only choice left for her grandchild was the top berth, facing of course my berth. She might be in her teens just like me and for a second I felt that she might me little older than I am or may be of same age. You now know my happiness, do you?

Normally when I jump into a book, I seldom turn my head around and more over it was Chandamama, my favorite. Sometimes, you will be just lucky, you shouldn’t ask why, it happens! My fellow passengers might have had dinner before they boarded the train, so their only interest during that time was indeed go to bed. The grandma settled in quickly and 5 minutes have passed and we could feel that she was already sleeping. But for outside of the compartment, most of the lights were turned off as people were prepared to go for a long sleep, while I was vested in my Chandamama. I then saw her climbing up the little steps to come on to the top berth, we saw each other casually and obviously smiles were exchanged.

As I said earlier, when luck favors you, it does it in a big way. My Dad wanted my Chandamama, as he is normally a late-bed person. I was in two minds, one I have a girl exactly facing me and I don’t know what to do and the other, my only alibi had to be handed over to my Dad. The second one won the race and I had to reluctantly gave away my book. But, things weren’t that bad. She spoke to me a while after settling-in; “Hi! my name is ..”. Now this is the bad part, I don’t remember her name, so sad! But you know what, I would have to name her something for this story, and I choose Shruti. Its not an obvious choice for a boy of my age to take things granted, when a girl (she was really beautiful) says “Hi!”, you normally give her back a dumb and wayward smile, I should say a funny face, but I told you that luck was on my side, so instant came the words “Kishore” (by the way, you don’t shake hands with girls in India, at least during those times) and I was happy that something started.

She had a pillow and a blanket with her and she rested here lovely face in her palms with elbows resting on the pillow. Had I been a poet, I would have written an sonnet, had I been a painter (which I am), colors would flow from my brush, it was a wonderful sight to watch. We slowly started talking to each other (mind it, the rest of the train was almost asleep) and then came the little sad part. She was in her 8th grade. Normally, girls look bigger than her age and I was mislead on that theory and I should say that I was disappointed, a little. I decided to make this small journey a memorable one, at least for me and we swirled and swung across many topics. One bad thing (actually good) about me is that when I decide to give a shot, I will pour myself on everything and the opposite persons are normally impressed, but sometimes it goes overboard, way over 🙂

I was so selfish that all I wanted to do at that time was listen to her and not say anything, just listen and watch (actually I was staring) her talk. We spoke to each other about an hour and I was already a hero. Sometimes, you can make out that a person will meet you some day in your life and you would like to spend the rest of the life with them, she was exactly that. Please do not think this to be a ‘bada hero dialogue’. Indeed it may be, but that is what I felt at that time. However my thoughts were, she was 1 year older than I am and things will not work out. I am writing exactly what I felt at time and I may laugh now thinking about that. It was not funny at that time and she simply mesmerized me, with a wonderful smile, a charming personality and a beautiful face. I reserve the best part for later.

Before I knew, it was pretty dark outside and all I could hear near me was the orchestration of my train.

Minutes later we said each other “Good Night”, while she pulled her blanket over, I was prepared to read some book for few more minutes and give up for the night. Moments later, I could not concentrate on my book and even did not stop looking at her ( I guess she already slept) face. Disturbed, I stepped down from my bed and walked slowly to the compartment door. Someone was smoking at the door, widely open and thank God, he just finished and left from there. With a big sigh, I just stood by the door, looking at the dark sky and a fast passing dark houses and what not. I left my brain at the bed to continue thinking about her and lifelessly staring outside the door for about the next 10 minutes.

I was sleepy but uncomfortable, my eyes were staring outside and the next thing I noticed is that the girl of my dreams (unslept) was right beside me. She said “Hi” and asked me if I am not getting my sleep. It took me few seconds to believe that she had the same sleepless condition and was searching for me. We spend close to 2 hours at the door again chatting about everything below the sky and I know I would not be able to spend my night any better than that.

We finally decided to give up and go back to our beds. Now comes the real surprise of my life. She gave me wonderful good night kiss, and I will never forget that moment.

I will stop this story here as I like it to end without an end. Memories are old books in our brain, with so much to ponder and sometimes you wish you can set the clock back and re-live the moment.

Stories of Life – A new friend

1984, 6th grade English Class.

I did not know at that time, but thinking about it now, I feel that there are some serious people who love Shakespeare. By the way my teacher’s name is Macbeth. Anyway, that’s not the story here. I think lot like love, Friendship starts suddenly, of course it takes a lot to grow, but you know it happens! This is about one such Friend, suddenly!

It was his first day in the school. Most of my classmates are either brown or black, I could count the fair ones in my tips. This boy was different, very fair, indeed he was English fair, lean and of course handsome. The introduction happened before entering the class as his mother accompanied him that day and I just happen to pass by. But, I did not get his name then, probably I just ignored; by the way I am the number one in the class, the numero uno at least until then. He sat right behind me it the class room and somehow I had a strange feeling that day, I could not foresee things.

The class was in chorus announcing the teacher’s arrival, a symphony that happens at every single class. Mrs.Macbeth had wonderful personality and a very strong posture, extremely suitable for English class! While the attendance was being taken, the boy behind me did memorize few names (he is smart, I say) and soon came the time for the teacher to introduce this new lad. Bharat was his name, I looked at him with a proud smile as I knew the proceedings. My teacher had of course a special announcement to make to the class, indeed it was for the new boy, Bharath. She told him, “Kishore is number one in the class and in the school and in every thing good, I expect you to follow him and compete well”.

I know I know, you were thinking I am boasting, of course yes, but it is true and I was a pet for all the teachers. Bharat nodded his head and oh! boy he was quick to his nature I guess, he started talking to the boy next to him, non-stop, but whispering all the words. Mrs.Macbeth was uneasy that day and nodded her head in disarray and looked at me. I knew something was wrong immediately, but the damage was done. Hurt by her ego, which she thought was a total contrast to my introduction, she thought that I was the culprit and talking to the new boy. Very reluctantly, she asked me to stand on the bench and so to Bharath. You can guess, the best student in the class was standing on the bench without any reason, with his ego hurt, head down and lots of fire for the new kid on the block.

Mrs.Macbeth asked us to sit down after few minutes, but I could not concentrate further, my mind was pre-occupied with shame and outrage. I wanted to tell my teacher that I did not do anything wrong and Bharat was the real reason. Then came the final words from her mouth and I immediately went to her, but I guess I was late by few seconds. Bharat came from behind and told Mrs.Macbeth that it was he who was talking and I had nothing to do with that, indeed. I turned my head back and looked at him, he was clearly guilty. Mrs.Macbeth was impressed, very impressed and told him that she will continue to see that same good behaviour but with a silence.

Our friendship started with his sorry at that moment and I am happy that we sowed the seed that day. He introduced himself again, “Hi! I am Bhupesh“, I was like, but “Bharat?”, “my Mom calls me Bhupesh, she likes it like that”. I was happy to meet Bhupesh and not Bharat. We eventually became very good friends and it continued for a good 3 years.

Bhupesh had to leave the school, I think his dad got transferred to a different place. Time flew in a jiff and soon I was busy with my 10th class examinations. Days went quickly for me, and I was waiting for my holidays to come by. Of course, life starts after 10th and you are officially an adult then. A week past by after our exams and I was helping my Mom with something in the house and brother was playing outside.

Suddenly I heard someone running towards me and it was my brother. With a heavy breath (he was running at top speed), he told me that my friend Bhupesh is here. I couldn’t believe my ears and soon turned into a deer. As soon as I saw Bhupesh, I had tears in my eyes and, out I go and hugged him, hard. That was a wonderful feeling, the warmth of friendship and the touch of a friend. In 3 seconds I recapped everything we did and thank to God! he spent the whole day with me and we were talking and talking and talking and talking and talking, and talking. We both knew that he had to leave and do’nno if we are ever going to meet again. I hope we had phones in those days, but I got his new address, they were moving to Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh.

Then came the moments to separate, thanks to parents to let us live with all the memories that day and we both were happy and sad at the same time. We exchanged few letters for the next 1 year or so and his last letter mentioned that they were moving to a new house and he has a new ‘best’ friend. I guess, you always find friends, some remain best and some remain ‘forever’.

I cherish those moments every time I think of him, I do remember his face from 6th through 9th grade and I do remember those eyes when we last met. Even today, when I do not know where he is, he remains one of my best, in friendship. For me, only few people will en live your memories, only few people can lighten up your thoughts and they always remain in our hearts.

Thanks Bhupesh, for still living in my memories!

Yours lovingly,



Man has invented many weapons, with a main purpose of killing the ‘enemy’. Polititians invented more, to kill their own people. So a person who kills his own people with a ‘weapon’ is not traitor? Hmm.. that’s a tough question to answer and, I may never will be able to!

One such weapon (this should be put under arms embargo, as its categorized as WMD) is called ‘Reservation’. If you are ‘reserved’ you win, if not (go f..king looser!), you can guess. Today there was an news article in EENADU newspaper regarding a famous community leader asking apologies from a cinema actor because, one of the shots in the movie depict some people peforming rowdy acts under the statue of Ambedkar. The leader thought its a disgrace to his community (only that bastard knows why?) and wanted un-conditional apology. You know now who is the big fool here, I guess.

A recent population census shows that Andhra Pradesh population has 68% of BC, while little less than 2% are Brahmins. The first one was put under Backward Classes with reservation , the second one was put under Forward Classes with no reservation. I guess we need to teach the Government some mathematics here. Anyway, since the elections band wagaon is beating more than ever, everyone wants to cry the foul out and these so called Backward Class leaders always up the ante to focus more on caste than purpose. These leaders fight for great causes (see below).

1. If a movie depicts that a person belongs to Backward Classes is drinking, its a sin. Actually they make out tha the person is indeed a BC by just looking at them (they should be heading a Forensic Lab).

2. If someone calls a BC a BC, its a sin (but you call a Brahmin a Brahmin and a Reddy a Reddy).

3. They invent new sections of people to be joined in BC (their ultimate aim is to make the percentage of BC population to be 100%, so that everyone gets a reservation, actually I think it is the best solution!).

4. Reservation should be totally customizable. You can literally convert anyone to become a BC.

5. These leaders only talk in the early hours to election. Other times, they’re just on vacation, there you go baby!

6. They should be able to raise the cast issue on anything, even if two bulls are fighting.

I can list million more, however I have reservation to list only 6.

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