Roshan's back..!!

I jumped off the plane and found that my parachute wasn’t opening. No, in fact I was just knocking at Roshan’s door. I mean, that’s how it would feel standing there knowing that his mom would open the door. In just a few seconds the door cranked open treating my ears with a few silly noises. I would have been charred to death and instantly evaporated (due to ‘shock’), if it was someone other than his mom at the door. I mean only she had to open the door, at least to piss me off. Anyway, as usual she looked at me as if she had wasted her precious time just to open the door for me. She said- “He’s in the room. Sleeping” and vanished into the kitchen. I entered the hall and I felt this weird thought passing through my brain; I felt like I was playing ‘ball’ with a chimpanzee in an American zoo. Don’t ask for further explanations please. Then I noticed Roshan’s 8 year old brother sleeping on the sofa. I felt like watching a Lion making love with a deer. I mean, I never thought that was possible.

Finally I stepped into Roshan’s room and that idiot was sleeping too. I was kissing that chimpanzee by now. As I walked towards him to shake him up, I heard him talking in his sleep- “Sorry ma’am, I didn’t come to school because my grandfather died yesterday……. Oh Last week?? Errrrr… Oh ya, my grandmother died last week……… ohh is it? Then maybe it’s my grandmother’s sister…………” he went on. I thought about the job in hand; how to wake this guy up from sleep? Finally, I grabbed my cell phone and played one of Himesh Reshammia’s nasal growls and Roshan jumped out of his bed like a ghost. He stared at me, rubbed his eyes and said- “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah. What were you doing in school man? I thought you would be running around trees with that ‘Air Hostess’ girl.”

“What to do macha! Last night I was thinking about that day when we begged our School principal for attendance. You remember?”

“Yeah. But WE didn’t beg. It was YOU who begged and almost cried.” I reminded him.

“Shut up macha. Otherwise, he would have informed our parents about what we did that day.” He reminded me of things I had tried all my life to forget.

“Hey, how about we go meet them now? Our school teachers I mean. It’ll be nice after such a long time.”

“Get lost. No way.”

In ten minutes, we were in his car heading to school; he was driving and I was praying. He took a sharp right turn and my heart almost skidded towards my ribs. He was not a bad driver; he was a terrible driver. Just when I started thanking god that we were just a kilometer away from our destination, he applied brakes and brought the car to a sudden halt. He turned and stared at me with his round eyes. He looked like the male version of Rakhi Sawanth. He behaved like a pressure cooker, as though invisible steam blew out from his ears. I got scared; I got tensed. I recited my last prayers. I tested my lost voice and enquired- “What’s up? What happened?”

As though like the whistling of a cooker, he exhaled, hit me on my head and said- “Stupid. It’s Sunday today. The school will be closed.” He was right; I felt silly, I felt ashamed. I felt- like a Superman without powers; like a crow without wings; like James Bond posing without pants. On the other hand, Roshan’s face glowed victoriously, as though he had fought the war and won the princess.

Anyway, we just had to roam around the school, literally and head back home. In an hour, we were back at the door of his house waiting for his mom to open. As usual, she never disappoints. She stared hard at me and told Roshan- “One more time I see you wearing that T-shirt, I’ll not let you in.” I knew that was for me. As ever I didn’t care. If I’d cared, by now I would have invited you all for my tenth 'Death Day' celebrations. Anyway, I entered in and Roshan’s brother who had woken up by now was in full action like those dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. As usually he hurled his plastic monkey at me and I dodged it with perfection and grace. But I had enough for the day. I collected my bike’s keys and disappeared from there in 3.2 seconds.

“A day spent with Roshan is called a ‘Stupid-day’. It is also known as ‘Everyday’.”


The Week, That Was..!!

People of my street are planning to demand for a separate state. James Bond uncle would be the Chief Minister and Mr. I-know-everything-except-what-my-daughter-is-doing will be the Home minister (Oh My God, what an irony!). I’m planning to put my tenant into the Anti-terrorism squad. He would strip even an ant and check for bombs. I mean, he belongs there; the over-smart category. Next house Granny would be our Government’s official spokesperson; this is just to make sure that our media persons need not search elsewhere for entertainment. Hey wait, who am I? I’m the boss; they bow their heads, they fall onto my feet. I’m the only Citizen; I’m the one who’ll vote.

On a serious note, this is the biggest blunder committed by the UPA government thus far. Such a hasty decision was uncalled for. The Demand for Telangana wasn’t anything novel, it has a history limping 30 years back in time. But having said that, how can one neglect the implications it would cast on the rest of the country. Moreover it is not that KCR and his party have votes in their backyard to orchestrate his dramas and skits. Whatever the heck it is, it’s no good politics; it’s no good society.

Anyway that much for politics; that much for bullshit. Let’s talk about something more serious now. I would have jumped into a well to commit suicide at 3pm Saturday; Reason- A girl. Yeah, apparently the girl was 3 years old and her mummy was careless. It was in a general store that the girl noticed me wearing shorts. She wasted no time and began singing- “Shame shame puppy shame..” All the silly ladies around gaped at me as though I was standing naked on a dais or something. They tried their best to hide their laughter while I tried my best to control myself from dying at once. Anyway, I was wondering if I should actually share this silly incident here on my blog, but now that I have, you are welcome to throw anything you can grab on to, at my blog.

Anyway, guys I am sorry, I’ve finally updated my blog, but the fact remains that I’ve done it just for the sake of it. I didn’t/don’t know what to write. Until the tube light in my head glows back again, please wait. I’ll come up with something which might be worth a read this time. (Hey you! Put those raised eye-brows back to its place, at once!)
See you guys. Go on, share your stories of the recent past on the comments page; it’s always open. If ‘No’ is your answer, I’m not the type who would borrow a hanky, so don’t worry.
Have a gr8 Week ahead. Loosen up. Relax. Except for rare life-and-death matters, nothing is
as important as it first seems. Enjoy!! 

P.S- If you have children of age around 3, please teach them manners. :P


P.S- Snow, for me is Grey..!!

(I wrote this for Writers Lounge. The theme being 'Winter stories'. It was written with a word limit of 400 words. And for a change, it has no humor. :))

Some kind of a realization dawned. He troubled his old muscles as he glanced up at the somber sky and scratched his chin- “It will only get worse.” His cheeks were sunken and hollow; his eyes depicted poverty. It was Christmas and he was at work; he poked at the far side of the grave with his spade and it split wide open.

I love Christmas, more so for the gifts that continues to flow into the next day, my Birthday. Adoring the season’s first snow fall outside my little window, I awaited my tenth birthday. My dad owns a bakery, my mom’s a school teacher. There’s another boy in my home; dad says he’s my brother. My mom's love towards me is infinite. I love her but I hate my dad. For two reasons- he gifts nicer things to my brother; He never talks to mom. Meanwhile, the snowfall intensified and I noticed mom. She sat in a corner, her eyes, as though set deep inside their sockets. I waited for dad as she sat still, dangerously still.

He cursed the relentless snowfall, which was making his job tougher. But he had to do it, for his living. His face appeared as though it had lived with pain as a constant companion. He leaned over his spade and started to dig again.

My mom hadn’t moved an inch, I got tensed. Just then my dad arrived. He surprised me with a hug and hurried towards mom and put his arms over her shoulder. Her head collapsed into his chest. For the first time I noticed a tear drop down my dad’s cheeks. He shook her face vigorously until finally mom moved. That relieved me; the snow outside appeared better now.

He finished his job of digging, covered his face with a scarf against the snow and waited impatiently.

Within a minute, I saw my mom burst into tears. My dad hugged her and brought her to me. My mom hugged me tight; she didn’t want them to put me into the coffin. I couldn’t hug her back, I couldn’t say I loved her, I couldn’t even cry. The snow turned grey to my eyes yet again.

I had to be taken to the graveyard; the old man was waiting. I made him struggle, but I made his Christmas. My parents, I love them. By the way, my name is Kevin.



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