Tuesday, May 29, 2012


The Red Lozenge

           A sudden blood curdling scream broke the silence of the sultry night, I was yanked off the bed by a brute force and the tick tock of the bedside clock rose to high decibel levels until my ears ached.
           Beads of perspiration accumulated on my brows , the power went off plunging the room in sheer blackness. Blinded by this totality of eclipse, I cursed the generator for not switching on. The breeze seemed to have breathed its last too.
            Out of the somber clouds, came the full rounded white object like a knight in shining armour ,flooding the bedroom with a strange light. I sighed with relief, but it soon turned macabre- I could spot blood stained footprints on the floor which seemed to get reflected in the moonlight aura. The force dragged me to the silhouette above the eerie red shapes and I followed loyally, like the dog its master, offering no resistance whatsoever. Now, the beads of perspiration had grown in volume, turning into a shower of sweat and I could feel it trickling down my spine in torrents. Dreadfully nervous, I heard nothing except the ‘lub dub’ of my heart, aided by the hypnotic effect, I gently opened the latch of the door and treaded outside. The moonlight filtered through the trees forming weird shadows , foretelling some signs of a gruesome tale about to unfold. The force moved on and so did the red blotches , I could even hear blood dripping onto the ground . the dry leaves under my bare feet rustled and then crackled , orchestrating with the symphony from my bosom.
             I walked on into the alley way , a slender bat flew over my head ruffling the hair in the process but undeterred I tagged along, the old grey stoned church standing in testimony to the times before and the revengeful deed to be revealed. I crossed it in a daze, disturbing the wandering souls at the nearby tombstones, who seemed to be in a hurry to occupy some desperate souls.
             A flash of lightening streaked across the midnight sky and a gleaming, glistening dagger was in my right fist inviting me menacingly to the house at the corner of Grove street .The mansion once proudly owned by the business tycoon Mr. Bhim Lal , my husband, who ruled the sparkling lozenges industry. Tears rolled down my eyes as the bungalow stood in utter desolation, neglected, abandoned, haunted and lusterless. Gravity was acting on me pulling me to the entrance of the stately building. The huge Victorian gates clanked open as if by remote, the driveway loomed in darkness, over grown weeds lit up by the lunar light ,playing hide and seek. The once, pride of the eyes garden was in shambles with crawlers and creepers stalking everywhere. A spider kissed the nape of my neck, I stopped in my tracks for a brief moment but the powerful , persuasive, emphatic thrust led me to the ornate main door which creaked open revealing the cobweb chandelier, it beckoned me and shortly I was spiraling up the winding stair case . I passed two landings and on the third one, I took a vigorous turn to the right to the room, which had been the domain of my daughter Kajal.
            The walls looked dull and forlorn , the magical laughter of my Kajal was not there , the room was full of dust and grotesque shadows were dancing in the dark. Lounged on a chair was a man whose face was lit up by a light from below his chin .An evil creature with a wicked grin , presently turning into a deep throated chortle. A brief elusive moment passed, before sheer exasperation drove the wrath filled venomous sword into the villainous chest of the abominable man, spilling horrendous blood , spurting as if from the nozzle of an aerosol can and spraying on my face .
             I stood stupefied in the carnage , glorified like a gladiator for what seemed like eternity…..


                      The rasping voice on the telephone line demanded “1 crore” as ransom money for releasing my kidnapped daughter unharmed and the deadline to make the payment “24 hours” and the line went click .
                     We were in diamond business for generations, the trade legacy passed down by our fore fathers .It was competitive and risky but our business acumen had made us to carve a distinct niche for ourselves and we enjoyed a prime share in the market and our imposing store stood at the prestigious Bhimji Zaveri street .We had recently bagged a deal with a South African merchant from Kimberly that took us to dizzying heights. But somewhere along the way, we picked up jealous enemies too who wanted to bring us down on our knees and the kidnap plot was a daring attempt by our predators.
                  My husband ran from pillar to post arranging the funds without disclosing the reasons as the abductors had warned us of dire consequences.
                   TRRIING…TRRIING, the phone rang ,my heart raced as I picked up the receiver, on speaker mode , the threatening words that were coming from the other end echoed in the house- the merciless mercenaries had upped the ante, they were now demanding 5 crores , stakes going up manifold , I just plunged on the sofa, with the receiver precariously dangling from the centre table , hands cupped at my chin. Kajal’s father in a fit of rage, called up the police and informed them about the kidnap and the rising ransom.
                     We were running against time , the police swinging into action, tracing the number to a public call booth and then getting sketches made with the help of assumed witnesses. The abductors , meanwhile had sniffed the scent of the Khaki trail and immediately snuffed the life out of my darling. Ruthlessly they chopped off the limbs ,disfigured and dismembered our princess and dumped the body in front of our house.
                    Inconsolable, we wept, cried, screamed and despaired, our diamond was gone forever…..

         
We relocated from that house leaving behind the painful memories, to another house to try and start living again. Day in and day out, a desperate voice echoed in my ears “don’t worry mama, I’ll find you my killer “and the vengeance grew within me… the deed was done, the holocaust over….RIP my red lozenge.   

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Big Bang - ver.2.0



(This is an entry for the vodafone contest "internet is fun" , please follow them at  www.vodafone.in/fun )


The evolution of our Universe was brought up by the Big bang , a continuous expanding matter like an inflated balloon, producing protons , electrons and  neutrons . This atom grew in size  and  introduced us to the new address , the address of the future : www.specsbuffy.blogspot.com ,millions across the world swear by this digital language and the journey to an equal number of sites begin with a single click!

Welcome to the Big Bang version 2.0 , the ‘internetomania’ – compulsive addiction to the World Wide Web (W3), what started as a bubble by the path breaking invention of the ‘telephone’

   by Graham Bell , the wheels of invention have been vigorously turning , churning out new contraptions by the minute taking the world by storm. The bubble has grown in size, stature and dimension – it is so very huge and powerful now that for many , it has become an absolute substitute for life!


If the Harappans left behind the “clay tablet” as proof of their high quality of living, archaeologists of the future would unearth “digital tablets” with entertainment guaranteed to last a lifetime! The medium of communication which  in its rudiments, simply answered the question : ‘HOW’ does ‘WHO’ communicate ‘WHAT’ to ‘WHOM’ and ‘WHY’ & ‘WHEN’ and ‘WHERE’, has become an economy in itself and the seller of wireless telephony needs just two eyes  to produce an array of gadgets whereas the gullible user, even with as many as a hundred eyes, is still left high and dry, figuring our the interface and its applications! It is the magnificent rule of the ‘thumb’ and fortunately the homo sapiens have  been abundantly endowed with ten fingers ,( probably the creator did have a foresight on things that were coming,) which move at will at the whims and fancies of the maker ,who knows “nothing is stronger than habit”!

Extrapolating the birth of our Universe , which roughly took place 13.75 billion years ago, the Earth has evolved itself in a billion ways and still moving at breakneck speed , unstoppable . Now death  of mankind can occur on three counts- ‘heart dead’, ‘brain dead’ and ‘network dead’, life would surely come to a virtual standstill if the third  category were to happen! The maxim ‘born with a silver spoon ‘has to be rewritten as ‘born with a mobile phone  ‘ as these gadgets and gizmos cater to all levels and ages of society .The lifecycle of man starts with the time he is born, recorded by the digital almanac , he gets his name from the baby names directory on the web, the ‘fone’ maybe his first words uttered, the alphabet song taught to him by the media player, games galore  starting with the simple  matching puzzles and culminating in the GTA ,by which time they become masters of the gaming universe! All sports shrunk to about six inches to play from the cool comforts of their favourite armchair, then the texting, messaging, chatting and here I recall the lovely quote of Carl Sandburg , who said “Slang is a language that takes off its coat , spits on its hands and goes to work!” On “YOUFACETWIT”, life gets a twist and we get terribly excited when  someone ‘follows’ but in real life , this lurking shadow behind us would scare us out of  our wits !


 
The  cosmos began with a bang       
    outcome of a lone quantum
       blowing the balloon, we sang
           the chorus of W3,orchestrated by the atom

 Browsing texts, images, videos of pages
    navigating the chartered hyperlinks
      world at our fingertips , sensation of rages
          Human history born, as we may think

 Now on a handheld, smart phone or a tablet               
   weaving the web platform through  application
      tethering with 2G 3Gon the gadgets
        supporting a repository of device description

  An everyday phenomenon , sing away the blues
    games on different dimensions ,movies at an
                                                                  easy scroll
      adolescents fall hook,line and sinker, on their
                                                                             toes                 
        hawkers, traders marking their bullion toll

  You tube, face book .twitter, a multilayer notepad
    a forum to speak their heart and soul
      cool mobile slang making everybody LOL ,glad
        
 here a smiley, there a smiley, server never
                                                         crying foul

 Life made simple , easy and fun on the go
  all and sundry at the touch of an
  android 
                                                                          screen
   messaging, chatting, dating and matchmaking
                                                                   in full flow
     surfing the net , fitting perfectly into the
                                                             banking mean

 The inception of the universe by a single nucleus
   an assembly , operating system for any situation
     exploding matter and energy superfluous
         transforming from 1.0  to 2.0 version  ….

Well  folks , if you are “hooked” on mobile internet, help is just a “scroll” away !!!        

          



Tuesday, April 17, 2012

An unborn rider



 This essay is for the contest "what motorcycling means to the Indian motorcyclist" powered by Castrol power 1 . Please follow them @ www.facebook.com/CastrolBiking



        My 60 km ride suddenly turned bumpy, windy, dusty and yes, adventurous. The comforts of travelling in the 4 wheeler had gone for a toss after a ceased engine and it ended up cooling its heels in the garage. Like the baby bump on my mom’s tummy , the everyday rides too turned bumpy as the ‘three’ of us headed for work on the glistening red Kinetic Honda – the first motored vehicle without gear and clutch to enter the Indian market – the 1990s saw the advent of many new inventions and discoveries and this was one of them !
         Cocooned in the deep interiors of my mother’s womb, swelling with pride at her maternal instincts , securely fastened to the umbilical cord, snuggled cozily in the comforts of my ten month home, I could feel the romance of the rally ride from Bangalore to Hosur . We would start early at the crack of dawn , more often than not ,I making my presence felt by giving anxious nauseating moments to the bearer of this bundle of joy. But the journey had to start on time and it was a sight to behold for the passers by as well as fellow motorists, some of whom gaped, glared, gritted and guffawed at the erudite scholar with his over burdened pedagogical belongings in the luggage carrier and at his feet the hot  aromatic lunch packs , nutritious , healthy and packed with affection  for the voracious glutton in my mom’s belly!
          Two handbags strapped on the shoulder of the “backseat” driver carried all  and sundry- from medicines to tissues to balms to what not…The 100 cc never complained , groaned , creaked or guzzled but just kept going like a faithful canine , keeping its tryst with time ,never letting us down with any major breakdowns ,but we did have the occasional flat tyres , invariably happening in front of those ‘puncher’ shops on the highway which got fixed in a jiffy!
            Within city limits ,Bangalore lived upto its pseudonym ‘garden city’ and traffic snarls were few and far in between – no maddening , mayhem, maneuvering but once on the highway , with the 4 lane construction underway , my begetter had to show his manipulative skills to the fullest. The 18 wheel monsters on the road took pity on us more so for the rotund luggage at the back seat and gently gave way!
            The steady throttled jaunt rocked me to  naps and this little  driver would apply brakes in tandem with the motorist and the navigator going on a real high with this ‘kick’!!Destination reached on time every time for nearly  a month , this interstate safari  for “an unborn” 7 month old baby was the first riding lessons on  a bike ……rollicking, audacious, daring and quixotic!!!


( This piece is written from my son’s perspective, hibernating in my abdomen , while the steadfast scooter took me and my husband to work , commuting a distance of 60 kms.)