Half Litre Runaway and a Bullet-proof Love

There comes a time in your life when you will look over your financial security and interest rates. There comes a time in life when logics and reasons are bogged down by desires and ambitions. There will be a time when  decision made by the brain will be ignored and a glorious heart will speak to you and you know that it is right.

Truth is, until now I never thought persuasion could be such a powerful tool to accomplish what your heart desires the most. And when it happened there was nothing else I could notice. It was just one plain vision which might be narrowed in a sense but broadened my perspective about how I perceive the profound complexities of human character.

Today as I made my way through the doors from RE, I could feel a new air of freedom into the atmosphere. My lungs were dilated with an unknown proud feeling which I had not experienced at such a massive extent until now. The city traffic was no longer pissing me off. I could no longer hear the  daft honking of the vehicles but just a beautiful melody jingling in my ear which was making me go merry and like a person in love I was smiling while I visualised my future days with her. Of course I was in love. I was in love with her since I laid my eyes on her. A love that was so intense, mysterious and deep that could make me flout all her shortcomings and all those exasperating faults of her. A love so strong and so exquisite that could calm my demons and lift me up from the darkest and deepest abyss of callousness. Ishaan was the prime witness of the dramatic events that took place over a week and although he was only a part of that evening he could clearly look through my conscience and to what my eyes reflected that day. Sometimes I feel he is blessed with this remarkable ability to sense the true inward dispositions and an exceptional power to deliver the most brutal sarcasm which blows right across the face of even the most intellectual people on this planet which made him vulnerable to many wraths and has made him a hazardous character. But today even Ishaan was looking quite sentimental and out of his witty humour and sarcastic comebacks.

As we made our way to the parking he was obvious to ask me this question, “What’s wrong?”

“You know, this is a very emotional moment for me.” I retorted. “I feel like I have just come out of some doctor’s clinic after hearing the news of my wife’s pregnancy.”

That was the level of joy and excitement together with a sense of responsibility and faithful duty towards someone pounding in the deepest corner of my heart. And all he did was smile at me, nodding his head in agreement.

She would be the first and only thing in the factiously impeccable history of my family about whom a decision have been made so quick. I knew the only person who would be supporting my choice would be my dad and so did my strategy and diplomatic skills focused towards his financial assistance. The assessment was made. Dad was adamant on his decision in my support and even mom’s strong disagreement could not overrule his nobel words. For the first time in my life, I saw my dad as an ally.  Later that night, after dinner my brother was lost in his own fantasy world when I told him about the auspicious news about my visit to her home to confess my love and my devotion towards her and he was so bloody delighted that we both kept of screaming, “Argo, go fuck yourself. Argo, go fuck yourself” for the whole night. I never knew why my brother and I kept on using that phrase to express our joy even if out of context but maybe because we liked the way it sounds.

The next morning while getting ready for my college my brother walked into my room and I kept on staring at him grinning widely from one corner to another. My brother who just woke up from his dreams and still trying to gather his senses thought I have gone all bonkers and walked away to notify my mom about my loony behaviour at 7 in the morning.

“It’s probably her he is thinking about and smiling like a fool.” I heard my mom saying from the other room.

12^th February around 6 in the evening at the university campus, Ishaan coined a new term for the recent events, “Bullet for my valentine.” Bravo. Impressive yet I hoped if he could have come up with a more elaborative and head-banging reference.

13^th February at 8 in the morning, I had decided last night to skip the college industrial visit which I had already endured last semester and was in no mood to witness again. But now I was at home, with nothing to do, lamenting my decision to stay behind when a text from her home made my day brighter than ever.

“Congrats. Thank you, Mr. Rishi Dubey for booking a Bullet 350 UCE-STD HEAVY CRANK on 13-02-2014. For updates, please contact ARVIND TIWARI. To catch up on Royal Enfield trip stories, visit us at www.royalenfield.com.”

Isn’t this the most enchanting and adorable wake-up call a man can receive.

A room with a view

I know a guy. He lived in a big empty house but still he would remain confined to the walls of his room. The room was small but it was painted in pastel yellow and grey. It was a striking contrast to the colors of rest of the house. The room kept him alive. The room kept him tethered. He felt protected and secure within the walls of his room. Heaps of food packets and mineral water bottles occupied the loft. The drawers were filled with fancy medicines. He had no visitor and would spend his time in front of a blinking computer screen writing random stuff. The room had a small window. The window served as a look out into the outer world for him. He would observe the world through the window and the apparent transformation that had changed the view over all these years. But the window only served only a certain degree of vision and the man couldn’t foresee anything beyond that. Everything else beyond the perspective of window was alien to him.

But the man had a secret. Contrary to the false beliefs, the man would often cross the boundaries of his rooms and walk into the hallway which would lead to a terrace. The terrace was wide and open. There was an old and ruptured wooden chair that lay in the middle of it. The man would occupy the chair and then was lost into a void of empty thoughts. He would stare into a blatant emptiness for hours and still not aware of the course of time. He would then, get up from the old chair, grasp a long breadth and lay down on the floor of terrace. He would look into the bluish skies, watching over the birds fly. He would draw patterns into the dispersing clouds. He loved to hear the chirps of birds on the nearby mango tree or the buzz of a honeybee that would wander over his flowers. He would sometimes close his eyes and let the calm wind flow through his hair.  He watched over the sky as it turned from deep blue to crimson red and orange and finally till the darkness would begin to descend.  The walls of the terrace were too high for him to look beyond them. He knew his options were limited. He had nothing else to do instead of just surviving. He was aware of the fragile circumstances to which he was compelled to withstand. He wanted to escape but was uncertain of his future. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know whom to contact. He questioned his identity and his existence now. All this way he tried to remain safe within the proximity of his room, somehow surviving but now he was running out of time as well as resources. He knew there would be no aid coming to his rescue. All that  had to be done has to be decisive actions of himself. But he didn’t know how to survive in the world outside the walls of his room. He now face a grave dilemma: either to live in a false hope that someone would come to his rescue and die in anonymity and solitude or he could gather up his courage and strength and leap over the walls into the outside world where he would gift himself the chances of been discovered and rescued so that he could not only survive but in actual make a life for himself.

*Reality check*

It has been 2 years since the epidemic hit the humanity. The world has lost a majority of population to the deadly virus. Economies have crashed. Governments have fallen. No laws exist anymore. Civilisations are dead. Only a handful survives now. The streets are now flooded with blood and only the dead now walks and packs them. There is no cure. There is no preventative. There is no escape. Confronting with your worst nightmare and surviving are the only available choice.

Thoughful confession

I knew there was something about her from the very first moment I saw her. I knew I am falling for her from the very first moment my eyes set on her. I could say from the memories that I was actually in love with her. Something that makes me wondered if the phrase “love at first sight” indeed works in the same way. It had been almost an year when I first saw her at the local market. Ananya and I were there at a local shop browsing through some music CD’s when she entered. Her perfectly tied pony tail, the grey tank top, blue denims and her glasses with a thick black rectangular frame still serves as a fantasy thought for me. I just couldn’t let go of that appearance from my sight. The way she chewed her gum, the way she expressed her impatience at the shop owner’s lethargy. That attitude and confidence on her face shining within her fair skin.

From the very first moment I realised that she isn’t one of the locals. I knew there was no chance that she could be a native. The way she threw her disgust when the shop owner accidently ignored her and the way she looked at him raising one of her thin eye-brows from behind those specs gave a clear evidence of all that I was assuming. She hailed from Uttrakhand. A girl from the mountains. She had a last name associated with mountain people. I knew the reason behind that serenity on her face and those dark eyes now.

From the very first moment I knew I couldn’t be with her. There was not a trivial doubt about it. I was totally out of her league. There she was a pretty dental student against a guy from a private engineering college. I knew I can never approach her. Plus she was 2 years older than me. I had learned she already was dating somebody else. But even if she was single she would never even care to even put a glance at me.

I was never a guy with great facial characters, neither I had a muscular build, nor I was famous. I was just another face in the crowd, I had an average build and I kept to myself most of the time. I enjoyed my solitary, my laptop and my compact friends circle. i never escaped the realms of rock and metal while she had a thing for soft romantic genre. I watched The Walking Dead and Sherlock while she admired Grey's Anatomy. I was a science fiction geek and always into dark comics while she adorned Disney. The thought of dating her was almost as revolting and absurd as considering oneself to be Robert Plant when you first hold a guitar.

Today I saw her again at the Central. I was with Viraaj. While he was still going through heaps of options to gift his girlfriend I was there standing against the wooden rails observing everything else. I had just turned back when my eyes caught a familiar sight and all those flashbacks from the past sprinted in front of me within a flash. There she was walking past me, in her olive green top and denims. She was wearing the same thick frame black rectangular specs. I kept looking at her awestruck by the chain of events I was witnessing until she finally vanished behind the racks of clothes. The next thing I remember was I had the phone in my hand, eagerly waiting to inform Ananya about this unexpected encounter. He cried at the top of his lungs and double-checked my words. Something had triggered an impulse within him and he told me that he will be finally dropping a mail to her.

I knew he could charm her. He possessed every bit of it and had every trait that could caught her attention which would have otherwise gone absolutely ignored if it had been me. I was cherished by the sight of her face. That dull and monotonous evening would end in a startling view, was never anticipated.

And as I made my way out of the Central, I turned around hoping to see her for one last time before I leave. She was nowhere to be seen. I was upset. Somewhere deep in my heart i was in love with this girl but some part of me was aware that i can never tell her. Logic and Reality were now rendering my thoughts in deep confusion.

I kicked the empty soda can in my way and  looked into the sky. A shooting star streaked right in front of me in that winter night. I took it as a good luck sign and headed back towards home.

Evolution: Through an Engineer's eye

Something had lately made my faith more concrete into believing that contrary to Darwin’s theory, there have been some major flaws in the course of human evolution. I am beginning to assume that the human intelligence clearly didn’t evolved as most of us would have expected it to be. I am falling into considering the fact that during this era of our evolution at some instance the rational and logical ability along with the basic intelligence was assembled only among a particular set of humans.

And so is the development of our DNA blended with the bilateral human characteristics. And so has it continued this far. So at one side, you have a particular exclusive set, displaying higher intelligence, compromising of all scientific class and art prodigy, the other side is disruptively inhabited by those belonging to lower brains. Daft religious fundamentalists, the hungry capitalists, the ruthless oppressors of expressions combined with those who pretend and attempt to cross into the other class through their coercing influences and abusing the power of their authority.

Darwin formulated a scientific argument for the theory of evolution by means of natural selection. He saw evolution as a change in the inherited characteristics of biological populations over successive generations. While I agree to this theory, that evolution gives rise to diversity at every level of biological organisation and better adaptability, it is more evident considering the variety and levels of daftness and idiosyncrasy exhibited by the lower intellect. I forfeit to believe that the non adaptive cause of evolution including the mutation and genetic drift is through natural selection. Intelligence cannot be regarded as mutation or a result of some frequency change in a gene variant but seems to a blessing or a permanent trait injected in the particular group of individuals, undoubtedly through the aid of some celestial and extra-terrestrial life form. Maybe at some point during the course of human evolution, our human DNA was interfered with or modified and fused with an alien genome in order to create a much superior species that stands different from the natural evolution. There could be two viable possibilities: either the intelligence DNA is a misfit result of the cosmic interference or is it possible that this particular higher race is indeed, in whole was an alien race in itself in the beginning. Whatever may be the explanations, it clearly seems to be conflicting with Darwin’s assumptions that that all species of life have descended over time from common ancestors.

Considering the above notions, an ethical question arises regarding this alien intrusion in our development. The possibilities may be endless and the core motive behind this timeless manifestation might still be unknown to the upcoming generations but one thing is quite apparent that this infringement had created a massive rift between two distinct dominant species of this planet and a common perception born out of these qualms. The idea of God and Devil, good and bad, divine worshipping and satanic adoration, spiritual understanding and orthodox practises.

May be we are just a part of some grand reality show or just a puppet in the hands of our master. May be we are part of some celestial social experiment which explains we are nothing more than just a lab-rat. Our purpose is unknown. The answers are still lingering in dark. For now we can only assume that we have been given the ability to determine our own purpose. Our own objectives that lead us to sustain and thrive be it to work together as a community or at the cost of the life of other.

But what is more clearly visible and settled is but a basic impulse towards everything else that surrounds us. Humour and Sarcasm are without any doubt divine superpowers bestowed to only few of us and not just mutation and genetic drift outcomes. Eh ??

P.s: My thoughts about evolution theory are just based upon rough assumptions, the rational explanation of folks I came across during my academic years and my middling knowledge of biology from my initial years at high school. I am just a common engineering student, clearly having no idea about biology and anthropology. I had no valid intention to disrespect the great English naturalist and geologist Charles Robert Darwin but was just trying to reason with and put my own opinions and thoughts. If in course of this writing, I had hurt someone’s feeling intentionally or unintentionally I deeply apologise to them. All though, the former may be subjected to terms and conditions. i just wish Darwin could have made a clear distinction between freethinkers like him and those conservative and violent crusaders of civilisation.

The guilty and the innocent ??

Time of Day: 9 am.

A faint figure walks down the road as soon as the city wakes from its dreamy nights. She walks down slowly but with a steady pace at the side of road where she walks daily. She clips her hands in her ragged pink sweater, staring down at the ground as she makes her way.

     Dhanno is 12. Every day I see her walking down from the slums at the end of the street to Jhawar Aunty’s home. It’s her daily routine and it has become like a habit to watch her come down to my neighbour’s home every morning at 9 and watch her leave at every 9 at night. Initially hired as an aid to take care of Pallavi Bhabhi’s daughter, Aarya, she has now become more like a house servant in their house managing most of their daily routines. All day long while the mother spends her time, chatting on phone and doing everything that goes behind the walls of their house, this girl hops around the parking area and in front of their house carrying the child in her tiny arms. Lately out of curiosity I asked Mom if ever this girl has time for school or any kind of self education. The reply from Mom was an obvious one but still it strike me with an abrupt and excruciating impulse. I was all aware what fate had decided for this girl and there is no way in practicality this child would be escaping the bitter reality of her life, I still felt the weight of that despair ridden utterance hanging over my chest. Something was burning it felt. Something that wasn’t right. I was aware of the evident reply I would receive from Mom to my query but I wasn’t just able to digest the fact and I was thinking it would have been much better if she would have simply lied to me about this little girl. Maybe that would have made her life a little better, a little less miserable, a little more to survival. That was exactly I was expecting. To mask the truth with an ingenuous lie so to make it appear more pleasant and appealing .But I knew this wasn’t how the world functions. The pain and suffering are as much the part of this world as good and happiness. I was too contended with my life till now, there wasn’t anything grand about that day but it just hit like a random thrust stimulating me into a deep gorge of mindlessness and empty dispositions and I found myself drowning into a callous pool of abuses, hurling insults and calling names. Because such was the gravity of that one sight that I couldn’t restrict myself from throwing all that to those people who put this little girl into this wretched situation. It was like something was compelling me to knock on the door in front of my house and beat the pulp out of those bastards who never cared. And even if my abuses were personal to me and confined to the walls of my room and more than that to the walls of my heart, I felt a disgust and repulsion for this family living in front of my own. But realising the verity of the prospect I had observed I knew I couldn’t do anything or little about it. I doubted my own actions. And now I hate myself for realising it. There’s a clear distinction between what you perceive and what you observe. I had learned it.

Time of day: 10.30am.

Somewhere between the slab counter and the shutters of canteen, the life of Rohit and his younger brother gyrates. Every day during lunch time when he arrives at the table to clean it, I try to look into his eyes and wonder if he ever thinks of becoming an engineer or a manager like those he was catering to. But he looks too contended with his way and running as an errand boy around the college. He hops down the corridors, humming a tune which sounds to me something from his native land and doing chores for the faculties and administrative folks. He always carry a smiling face, cracking some jokes to anyone who calls him and there isn’t even a slightest of regret or discontent in his eyes about his life and so does no one cares. But is it really the way it looks? Or is it this guy makes it appears? How can this fellow remain so cheerful even in such an environment and maintain a positive outlook about everything else that is occurring around him? Or is it just that he had learned too well to mask his repentance and short-comings and things destiny had thrown towards him?  Too much confusion building in my brain, there is a train of thought running at expeditious rates that I couldn’t keep up with it and so the apparent questions pops up again in my brain. I ask Vaibhav to call Rohit and ask him about his relation to Mahendra Bhaiya, the canteen owner. He seems to be taken aback by this unexpected query and recognises him with hesitation as his Uncle. Vaibhav and I can sense something fishy in the manner he tried to fool us, there was not even a trivial doubt about it but admitting this to be something personal and none of our own damned concern we decides to skip any further enquiry. I wanted to ask this guy if he has any time for school but then the flashbacks of my 2^nd year in college flows in front of my subconscious eyes when Vaibhav and I asked about the another guy who used to work earlier. And so I satisfied myself with the ignorant thought that what difference fate would have made and added any further distinctions to the lives of Rohit and his brother. All I could do is observe this child everyday trying to make some sense of his life by cleaning the leftovers from the aluminium tables and bringing tea to people. Another moment of disgust for realising it and so I decide to put down the empty cup of tea I was holding for last half an hour and proceed towards my class.

   The ill-effects of the child labour is clearly visible in the society and there isn’t denying a fact at no matter how much the jurisdiction and government tries to put any obstruction to such malicious practises they would still be evident unless someone, somehow comes with any viable and practical approach to put an end to it. The federal laws and regulations constantly proves to be futile and just a bunch of idiotic guidelines never making any real sense out of themselves. Now I don’t know how to tackle this sickening issue that continues to infect our culture and our daily lives but it would be a genuine blessing if there could be any valid, legitimate and sincere advancement against child labour.

And so this thought fades gradually as I exit the door of the canteen and walk away.