Tag Archives: Life




A tired soul with blues feed on empty words

Harnessing darkness, cultivating depressions

Smiling at its fate and gardening its worst fear

An endless loop call life and its gloomy inspirations


Standing aside, quietly and carefully, let them pass

Deserving happiness, sweet memories of glorious past

The screaming heart, while it’s getting skinned alive

And getting roasted in the low flames of betrayal of trust


Nothing seems so perfect, nothing seems so complete

Like it feels today, counting days, counting minutes and seconds

Yet hoping, perhaps there is solace, pieces of peace somewhere

But then all hopes fade away, leaving me on my own to fend.



* Here is the snap of her, it should be done by tomorrow.

** No.

* What?

** I won’t do it.

* Why?

** I knew her.

* Ahh old flame? Ex-girlfriend eh? (Dirty giggling)

** Nah! She is a schoolmate, yeah I used to like her.

* And?

** I asked her out once.

* And she rejected you. Didn’t she? (Dirty giggling again)

** She did.

* One more reason to get rid of her.

** What if I refuse.

* Then somebody else will do the job and get the money. Her husband is paying quite a good amount.  Listen, you are a contract killer. Don’t grow a conscience and stay poor. Take the job and get paid.

** (Complete silence)

* See I personally prefer knives. Because guns make too much of noise. It should be easy. She returns home every day around 7:30 PM. The road in front of her house is pretty deserted. Just wait for her there and finish her off, stab her in the neck.

** Okay then.

* Make it look like a robbery or snatching gone wrong. Take away her purse.


He was standing in that lane, which leads to her home. Few street lamps were working. The whole street was playing with lights and shadows here and there. He was standing under a tree.

It’s almost 10 years, still it feels as if it’s yesterday. She was always this cheerful, popular and center of attraction kind, always surrounded by people, guys and girls. And he was a shy, quiet type, the ones which are always invisible to them. They were in the same class from 11th standard, but he could never gathered enough courage to speak to her.

Except the annual fest for the 12th class. He thought it’s now or never. So he did what he thought is impossible, unthinkable. She was busy having the dessert in the buffet when he creeped behind her.

“Hi, I really do like you…!” He spoke in one breath.

“Amm, and you’re name is?” was her reply.

That was the first and last conversation between them.



He could see her coming towards him. She was wearing a green designing saree, the bag full of groceries were in her left hand, she was holding her saree above her ankle with her right hand, dodging and avoiding the pot holes in the road filled with water.

She did not change much, since the day he saw her last time. He slowly stepped out, the street light was having this sleepy yellowish brightness, the whole lane was looking pale and sad.

He put his hand in his right pocket and felt the six inches folded steel, he slowly pulled it out. As he jerked his wrist, the sharp edge flung open, she was only 3 or 4 steps away from him. It should be fairly easy. Stab her right in the middle of her neck and pull the knife back, the respiration artillery should be cut and she should die in few seconds. A less painful death.

He turned towards her, and then froze as he heard the same familiar cheerful tone.

“Is that you? Roll no 37!!!”









​(The story is written in first person, it is influenced and inspired by someone or something, either real or fictitious. The characters and occurrence are may be fictitious or real and any resemblance with any character or real occurrence might be purely coincidental or not. Writer doesn’t claim it’s a true story, at the same he doesn’t claim it’s a fictitious one either. It is left to readers to judge.

If you like this post, I would be glad to know that you are entertained, if not and you feel it’s a complete wastage of your precious time reading it, my apologies in advance are already on the table.)


I checked my watch. It is 11:35 PM, quite late at night. All alone, I am walking around in this city, without an aim, without a destination. But it feels kind of good, late at night this city shows its hidden face you can’t see during other times of the day. The yellowish street lights, one or two vehicles passing by in high speed, strange sounds coming from far away, piercing though the natural silence of the magical night. I was standing on the over-bridge, drinking every drop of this night’s intoxicated beauty.

“Hey, whose there?” I heard a heavy voice and few footsteps, I looked over my shoulder and found few policemen are on their patrolling duty. “What are you doing here at this hour of the night?” another voice inquired. “Nothing, I am just walking around.” I replied with sweetest smile I could pull out at that time.

“Show us some identification.” Most probably the guy who asked the question this time, is leader of this team. I smiled at them again and replied “I am not carrying any. “What’s your name? And address?” someone among them barked. “Name is Ani, Address Planet Earth, It’s called the Planet Blue as well.” The whole gang was stunned now.

The leader of the police group stepped forward. “There was case of snatching took place last night, I am arresting you for your suspicious behavior.”

“Good, let’s go.” I yawned and replied, they all looked at me surprisingly, perhaps they never had such willing participant to visit police station.

Confucius said, ‘Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.’” I felt Confucius himself couldn’t say it better.


It’s been more than 3 hours I am sitting here on the bench, never been to any police station before, that too at this ungodly hour. The group who arrested me, gone out again for patrolling leaving behind 2 of their men. Suddenly I felt a sense of urgency and attention among the people here, a man in his khaki dress entered through the door, I assumed he must be the Inspector in charge of the station. I was immediately summoned to his cabin.

“What’s the name?” The Inspector started his interrogation in passive voice.

“What’s in the name?” I replied. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet

For a moment the Inspector looked perplexed, “What?” He asked in puzzled voice.

“Shakespeare sir, couldn’t help when I heard the question.” I answered with a puppy face.

For few moments he couldn’t speak anything, then he leaned on the table and hissed, “You think you are too smart, don’t show your smartness with police, when you’ll be lying on the ice slab and I will be beating your ass off you won’t be in a position to joke.”

“Sir, please make sure those ice slabs are bought from proper shops, I heard these people supplying the ice slabs from the hospital morgues to police, It’s so unhygienic.” I spoke with a concerned voice.

Inspector Subodh Dhar (Read his name on the name-tag of his uniform) redirected his attention to his men, he shouted at one of them, “Did you search him? Did you find anything suspicious?” I smiled, I am not carrying my purse or mobile, my pockets are empty, so they did not find anything.

“Nothing sir, we have searched him thoroughly”, one of them replied in a scared voice.

Inspector turned his attention back to me, “From your presence and attire you look like you are from a good family, I am not sure about your mental condition though, call any of your family member or friends to bring a proper identity of yours, then you are free to go.”

As none of my family member lives in this city now I was totally dependent on my friends and I don’t remember any of their numbers. One of the many disadvantages of using mobile phones, you don’t remember you’re near and dear ones numbers, names are enough. I was thinking hard as Inspector Dhar was staring at me. All of a sudden I remember Siraj, my school friend Siraj Karim, I remember his land line number, as back in those days I used to call him frequently.

We both were best friends in school, then after that we lost touch, best part is even today I can’t remember how and when we stopped talking. His dad is a renowned barrister who joined politics and currently serving as the state Minister of horticulture and food processing industries. I decided to call Siraj, after all ‘a friend in need is a friend indeed.’ I wasn’t sure if he has the same number, but nonetheless I dialed it.


Siraj is sitting in front of me in the police station. He is also completely baffled. Our conversation in the phone was short.

Siraj: “Hello.”

Me: Hey Siraj, this is Ani, come to this police station right now, I am giving you the address. Come fast.”

Siraj: “Aniiiiii….. Such a long time, what the hell you are doing in police station at this time?”

I gave the address and put the phone down. During school days he was the notorious do-gooder among us, always on his toes to help people. Once he rescued an 8 years old boy thinking he got stuck on a tree branch, once saved we came to know he was hiding there on the tree after stealing money from his dad.
Inspector Subodh is watching both of us may be because Siraj is still in his pajama and t-shirt, I am sure he came running from his bed as soon as he got my call. “Did you bring some identification proof of your friend?” Inspector asked. “I didn’t get much time, actually….” Before Siraj could finish I stopped him by winked at him.

“Inspector, I have a confession to make, remember that snatching incident on the over-bridge you have got me arrested for, I have done that, and this is my friend and accomplice, Siraj Karim.” I was smiling wickedly while speaking.

Siraj was speechless as he opened his mouth so big that a full size cat go walk in there easily. Inspector Subodh Dhar was at his wit’s last end where anything and everything might sound truth and lies at the same time.


We both were sitting inside the lockup. Me and Siraj, from his face it was clear he is still in shock. “What is going on?” he whispered,

“Isn’t it exciting?” I whispered back.

“Of course it is, but if you could tell me what is your plan and what is next?” he looked a bit relaxed now, maybe he is thinking it’s a practical joke.

“Now this is the fun part, do you see the cops are going through your belongings they seized, they soon find your identity and your dad might be here any minute to release us.” I tried to sound happy,

Siraj looked at me with frightened eyes, “My d..dad will s..s..slaughter me if he knows I am sitting in lockup.” He somehow completed the whole sentence, he was stammering.

“Well, too late for that.” I sighed. “As Jesus Christ said ‘So I say to you, Ask and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.’ Guess this lockup door will also open.”


Inspector Dhar almost started to weep when he heard, Siraj is the son of the state minister of horticulture and food processing, Abdul Karim. He started to sob when he heard the minister himself is coming to his police station to release his son. As he reached in his VIP cars with red lights glowing on their top, cops were overly anxious, running around here and there, Subodh Dhar was standing like a statue made of stone.

We all sat in Inspector’s cabin, Us, Siraj’s dad and the zonal DCP.

Inspector: “S..Sir, I had no idea he is your son, I mean I was totally misguided by Mr. Ani, I didn’t know what to do. Please don’t mind me being such a fool. They were absolutely comfortable here.”

Siraj’s Dad: “It’s alright, I knew there is a misunderstanding, now if you finish your formalities and let him go.” He finished and threw a hateful burning look at me.

I smiled sweetly again and asked, “How are you uncle? Remember, I used to come visit your place regularly once upon a time.” He didn’t reply and turned his face.

Things wrapped up pretty fast after that. The DCP warned the Inspector he will have words with him later. Abdul Karim denied to recognize me and asked for the law to take its own course. Siraj tried hard to convince his dad.

Siraj: “Dad we can’t leave Ani here.”

Abdul Karim: ‘He is the sole reason for all these trouble, for sure he is harmful to you and to me as well, let the police take care of him.” He almost dragged Siraj out of there.

I was left on the mercy of entire police station totally pissed with me.

“GO and sit on that bench, you make a sound and I will shoot you without warning.” Inspector roared. I wondered if he is really planning for a false encounter.

It’s already morning 8, all the other policemen are curiously watching at me who just came in and don’t know the whole story, Others I guess were waiting for the green signal from the inspector to start their third degree treatment on me. I was sitting there quietly.


“Sir.” A stranger just came in, walked up to Inspector Dhar.

“What?” Inspector barked

“Sir, this is Bhola butcher, you ordered 2kg of mutton today.” Bhola spoke in panicky tone.

“Oh, send it to my home.” He looked back.

“Sir, payment………” As Bhola spoke those words inspector looked at him with blood red eyes, “GET LOST.”

Bhola almost ran away out of his sight. I don’t know why but I felt like following him, a cop tried to stop me, I quietly showed him the universal pinky finger sign and showed him the empty space near the station, he shrugged and told me to do it quickly. I saw Bhola standing near the road, as a bus came near him and slowed down he jumped in, I followed and jumped in it too. Did not hear any voice shouting behind, I think no one noticed.

Aristotle said ‘The wise man does not expose himself needlessly to danger, since there are few things for which he cares sufficiently; but he is willing, in great crises, to give even his life – knowing that under certain conditions it is not worthwhile to live.’


As Bhola got down from the bus and started walking through a narrow lane with so many small shops on both sides, I followed him. He stopped in front of a butcher shop, I stood behind him and knocked on his shoulder.

“Inspector Subodh Dhar has sent me to get the mutton.” He looked at me from head to toe.

“But, I never saw you before.” As he spoke those words I made a straight face, “You want to call him and confirm?”

“No. its fine, give me 5 minutes.” I waited till he chopped the meat and packed it.

“Ok, come with me then.” I told him, he looked at me with surprise. “I thought you are taking the meat to his place.”

“Don’t you want to have the payment for that?” I indicated at the meat pack. He looked completely puzzled.

“Come on. Let’s go.” I pretend as if I know where we are going, we got into a cab, “Where to?” cab driver asked. As I didn’t reply, Bhola gave him the address.

We reached at Subodh Dhar’s flat, it’s on 5t floor in a multi-stored apartment. I pressed the calling bell and almost immediately the door opened as if someone was waiting there to open the door. The lady who opened the door wearing a yellow saari looked at us with a curiosity, I could describe her as a presence of sad yet elegant beauty.

“Hello Ma’m, here’s the mutton. And I am Ani, this is Bhola, it’s 1400 plus 200 for cab fare, total 1600.” I was holding the meat pack in my hand with a grin.

“Oh, thanks, I thought he already paid Bhola.” She took the packet and asked. “Oh, no, he asked me to get it from you.” I smiled and replied to her, I forgot to mention, I made Bhola to pay the cab fare as I told him I am not carrying my purse, he paid it with an uninterested face, as if it’s a regular occurrence.

She came back from inside while counting the cash, “Here’s your 1600.” She gave it Bhola, he took it, looked at my face and then hers, probably first time he is getting paid for the meat Subodh Dhar ever bought from him, then he almost ran down by the stairs. Inspector’s wife was surprised to see that and she turned to me and asked “Sorry, I did not recognize you, you are?” “Oh. I am Ani, I work with Subodh sir, newly joined.” Smiling lies have their own effects.


I was invited in for a cup of tea and I accepted without any formalities. In the drawing room and old man was watching TV and old lady weaving wools. “My father-in-law and mother-in-law, the came from Pune yesterday, and this Ani, Subodh’s colleague.” She introduced. “It’s our 5th marriage anniversary today.” She announced. “Ahh, where are the kids?” I spoke in an enthusiastic voice, her face went dark and she hurried to the kitchen. In another 5 minutes the mother-in-law vented all her deep sorrows and frustration out as how she is waiting to make woolen socks and sweaters for her grandchild but so far the couples are childless, she also deliberately hinting that it’s her daughter-in-law’s fault. I shook my head like a wise guy.

“I called Subodh, but he was too busy, it seems some criminal ran away from his custody, he is already so tensed regarding another issue, he arrested a minister’s son by mistake, before I could say anything he cut the call. Every anniversary he gets into some or the other thing and spoils the entire day.” She spoke as she was coming out of the kitchen. “Would you like to stay till lunch?” She asked. “Oh yes, Subodh sir actually invited me for lunch, I think he forgot to tell you because of all these trouble.” Subodh’s parents and his wife looked at each other and at me. I again produced my trademark heavenly smile.

Once we finished our lunch, I was already a fan of ‘Antima Dhar’s’ cooking, Subodh Dhar truly is a lucky husband and I couldn’t but feel jealous. The lunch was simple, Fried rice, mung daal, fine potato fry, hilsa fish curry, mutton kosha, pineapple chutney, yogurt and gulabjamun. Antima tried to call husband thrice but he cut the calls every time, I guess he was truly busy. I bid Subodh’s family goodbye and promised I will go back to police station and send him home as soon as possible.

As I hit the road, I could only think of one sentence of George Bernard Shaw, “There is no love sincerer than the love of food.”


I got up hearing my calling bell ringing madly, it’s 9:15 am, I slept almost for 10 hours, rubbed my eyes and opened the door. Inspector Subodh Dhar was standing at my door.

I admit I was kind of impressed by the efficiency of our police force, it only took them less than 24 hours to locate my house and find me.

“Hello Inspector.” I cleared my throat, “Would you like to come in?”

“You have to come with me now….. Please….” I was astonished to hear his pleading voice rather than his authoritative one. I thought by this time he will rough me up and throw at the back seat of his police car.

“Ammm, I am yet to have my morning tea and breakfast. Would you mind waiting for an hour, I haven’t been to loo either.” My concerns were genuine.

“Please, please, my job is at stake, Minister Abdul Karim himself told me to produce you in front him. From today morning I am getting calls after calls from home ministry to commissioner’s desk. You have visited my house, had lunch with my family, they know everything and suspecting me that I am involved. Please come with me to Minister’s house and explain everything, he wanted to meet you urgently.” It looks really ugly when a full uniformed police officer crying and pleading.


We are now sitting in Siraj’s home, nothing changed much since I stop coming here, huge 3 story building with around 24 rooms, Surrounded by a big garden, a small swimming pool on the north side. Inspector left as soon as we reached here, he was unwanted. Its Siraj’s father Abdul, his mother Rashida and his Sister Ayesha sitting in front of me and I could see 3 different expressions on those 3 faces, Abdul Karim is keeping a straight unconcerned face, Rashida Begum clearly was crying as her eyes are red and swelled, Ayesha is looking straight at me with her forehead wrinkled, I haven’t seen so much hatred and loathsomeness in anyone’s eyes for me.

“Hello Abdul uncle.” I started, He looked at me and throw a piece of paper at me. It was a letter from Siraj, it reads,


‘Dear Ani,

How are you doing now? I know you won’t so good, I am sure police has roughed you up and I know I am indirectly responsible for that. You called me to help you and being the son of a powerful man I couldn’t help. You know, my father has changed a lot as he joined politics, it made him cruel, violent and power hungry. He was always ruthless in his career but I haven’t seen his this characteristics.

Let me tell you an incident, do you remember our school teacher Harish Roy, the fair and square history teacher. He was his opponent during the election. My father conspired with few powerful people and got him under the false charge of murder. He is in jail now and his family is in hand to mouth situation, but he has no remorse. All my respect for him is gone. Even my mother supports him silently. One day few people came up to him with a suitcase full of money, later I came to know they are involved in illegal mining and my father is helping them accepting a huge sum. After they are gone my father handed over the money to my mother and she didn’t ask a question and kept it in the locker.

Only Esha, my sister is still away from all these, but how long? I am already a part his sins. After we got back home we had a heated argument, my father mocked me for my pseudo honesty and uprightness, he said all my expenditure, my school, college, MBA from Australia, everything is funded by this sinful wealth, and now when I am well settled in a multinational farm, I despise the same money that got me all the comfort in the world. I couldn’t answer him, my head hung in shame.

But my friend, I can’t accept leaving you behind in misery. I still consider you my best friend, all my friends drifted or driven away after my father attained this political status. But no more I can stay in this hell so I am running away from here, for good.

I don’t know your current address so sending it to same police station address you still might be.

Your Friend,



I finished reading and yawned, “He will come back home as soon as he gets calm. He is angry now.”

“So are my thoughts, actually I don’t even mind if he doesn’t come back, who needs a son who think so highly of his own parents. I wouldn’t have called you here, but his mother wanted to speak to you. I have work, so I have to leave.” Abdul Karim finished his words and walked out.

“Ani, son, do you know where Siraj is? He is always this emotional and short tempered, if you know where he is please tell us.” Siraj’s mother spoke in a trembling and crying voice.

“I have no idea Rashida aunty, I should leave now. I’ll let you know if I hear from him.” I replied in an indifferent tune.

“No, don’t go, stay for the day, I need to talk to you. Have lunch with us.” She stopped me.

“I can’t eat without having bath, I didn’t even brushed my teeth today morning. “I yawned again.

“Esha, go and ask the servants to open the guest house and give him a spare tooth brush and a towel.” Rashida Begum instructed to her daughter.

“Hey Esha, how are you?” I smiled at her, she grew up a fine lady. And she is still holding the fierce hatred and disgust in her eyes

“Don’t call me that, my name is Ayesha, only the closest people of me call me that.” She left the room with angry footsteps.

I sighed. ‘Anger begets more anger, and forgiveness and love lead to more forgiveness and love. – Mahavira’


It’s such fun to have bath in a bathroom almost as big as my bedroom. I don’t even know the name of half of the things on the bathroom rack, It took me 2 hours to come out of that Jacuzzi.

I was having lunch, on the dining table I was the only one eating. Esha was sitting on the chair left to me and Rashida aunty was standing and serving, Abdul Karim has gone to office.

“Son, are you eating properly? Don’t be shy, Do you need anything else?” Rashida aunty was looking sad yet trying to look busy.

“Don’t call me son so frequently, I feel uncomfortable.” I replied.

I could see from her face she was hurt. “Anything else is making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, you don’t have to stand and serve the food, I can manage, please go and have some rest”, I spoke bluntly

She didn’t say anything and slowly walked out of the dining room.

“So what’s your ploy? Why are you playing this game?” Esha who kept quite all these while blurted out now

“There is no game Esha.” I replied with a smile.

“I have told you not to call me so, and my brother told me everything that happened in police station, what the hell you are trying to do?” Her face was turning red in anger.

“But I always called you Esha, don’t you remember our school days?” I was smiling to her

“I want my brother back as soon as possible, all these have happened because of you. I am warning you, you will pay for all these. Don’t you see everyone is worried here?” She was totally mad at me now.

“I smiled and replied, Buddha said ’Happiness or sorrow – whatever befalls you, walk on, untouched, unattached.’

“Stop playing these games Ani, enough of quoting all these gibberish sayings. You are a thug, a scumbag, not a sage or Buddha” Her voice was trembling with anger and resentment. Why she looks so beautiful when she is angry?

She stood up and threw a piercing look at me, “Remember that day Ani when you ran away like a thief, that’s who you really are, not what you are pretending to be.” And she stormed out of there.


I came out of Siraj’s house without informing anybody, don’t know how they will feel when they will see the empty guest room. I reached to the police station by 4 PM. Saw Inspector Subodh is sitting in his cabin holding his head with both hands.

“May I come in sir?” I asked.

“Do you have any info about your friends? I am getting calls after calls from all highest possible places.” Inspector looked completely helpless.

“Don’t worry, he will come back, how about you? How are you doing? And how’s your family and wife?”

Inspector sighed, “I have another problem on my head. There was a murder of a key witness, few goons have done it, now I am being pressurized to release them.

“What’s the big deal? Happens all the time.” I sounded apathetic.

“Yes, but they want me make a false case and arrest few innocent men instead of them” Inspector impatiently answered.

“Inspector, why don’t you do something different this time, arrest the actual culprits and file a case against them as well who are pressurizing you.” I spoke in a cheerful tone.

He dumb fondly looked at me, and then sighed, “I wish I too had friends whose dads are ministers. I guess you should go Ani, I have so much to do.”

I came out of there, ‘Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them – that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.– Lao Tzu’



I read it in newspaper after few days. Minister Abdul Karim is charged with corruption and receiving kickbacks. He is forced to resign from his post and an investigation is currently carried out against him. The report also reads Minister’s personal life is also going through a turmoil as his eldest son is missing for months now and his wife is sick and bed ridden, Abdul Karim denied any kind of such involvements and kept accusing the opposition for false charges.

I folded the newspaper and kept it on my table. Suddenly I felt this strong urge to visit Inspector Subodh Dhar’s place. So in the evening I reached there and press the calling bell. Antima opened the door. She saw me but didn’t act dazed or surprised, she greeted me a very polite voice “Please come in, we were waiting when you will visit us again.”

Inside Subodh was sitting on his sofa, wearing white pajama and vest, sipping his tea, he looked at me and smiled, a sad smile of a worrier who lost the battle.

“Please have a sit, Antima, get Ani some tea and snacks will you? How are you sir?” I sat down.

“I have done something foolish, I have done as you said, I arrested the real culprits and put them behind the bars and complained against my superiors and local politicians who were pressurizing me. Few days back I have got my transfer order, I have been transferred into a core Naxalites zone, will have to report and join there this month end.

Antima came back with tea pot and sandwiches. She kept it on the table and stood beside her husband, Subodh held her head against his wife’s waist.

“She is 2 months conceived, we are going to have a child after all, I hope be alive to see the face of my first born.” He spoke in unmoved tone.

I murmured, “As Omar Khayyam said ‘Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.’


I am sitting here in front of Abdul Karim now, he is in jail. His own people whom he trusted played him, he is now an outcast, an embarrassment to his own party and soon he will be expelled. He isn’t looking worried anymore, rather he is looking calm and quite. May be during absolute adverse situation human acceptability tests and touches its limit, people admit to their situation without any resistance.

“How are you?” He asked.

“I am good, how about you.”

“I am fine too, as you can see.” I had a hearty laugh, then he spoke again, “Any news of Siraj? Its good in a way that he is not here, better he stays away from all these else media would have had a field day with him. Rashida is at her brother’s place, she got low blood pressure and over anxiety. Even Esha is not well. She’s having frequent emotional outburst. Would you do me a favour? Would you keep an eye on her, she’s all alone now, she has to take care of mother as well.”

I nodded, “Yes.”



I got the news as soon as I reach to Siraj’s house. Esha was taken to hospital. She tried to commit suicide by slitting her wrists. I am sitting in the hospital now, she is under intensive care, she lost a lot of blood, doctors are not able confirm anything as 24 hours need to be passed. I am sitting near her head, she unconscious. The funny part is, I can clearly remember how and when I and Siraj parted our ways.

It’s just after our 12th standard exam, Esha was in her 10th class. I was always so fond of her, but never knew my true feelings for her.

That day when I was at Siraj’s house waiting for him, Esha came into the drawing room with a piece of paper in her hand. “Did you write this left it inside my book?” She asked me with a naughty smile. I was dumbstruck for some time and nodded my head slowly.

“Wait here, I will bring your answer in my writing.” She ran in, I saw Siraj coming through the main gate from the window, suddenly I felt a sense of shame, a guilt of betrayal. How Siraj might feel if he knows I have written a love letter to his sister?

I sneaked out of his house, just like a thief, next day I traveled to my ancestral house to cut all my ties with Siraj and his family.

And I remember the story, ‘And Kisa Gotami had an only son, and he died. In her grief she carried the dead child to all her neighbors, asking them for medicine, and the people said: “She has lost her senses. The boy is dead. At length Kisa Gotami met a man who replied to her request: “I cannot give thee medicine for thy child, but I know a physician who can.” The girl said: “Pray tell me, sir; who is it?” And the man replied: “Go to Sakyamuni, the Buddha.”

Kisa Gotami repaired to the Buddha and cried: “Lord and Master, give me the medicine that will cure my boy.” The Buddha answered: “I want a handful of mustard-seed.” And when the girl in her joy promised to procure it, the Buddha added: “The mustard-seed must be taken from a house where no one has lost a child, husband, parent, or friend.” Poor Kisa Gotami now went from house to house, and the people pitied her and said: “Here is mustard-seed; take it!” But when she asked Did a son or daughter, a father or mother, die in your family?” They answered her: “Alas the living are few, but the dead are many. Do not remind us of our deepest grief.” And there was no house but some beloved one had died in it.’


I touched her forehead and whispered, ‘Yo ca vassasatam jeeve, apassam amatam padam, Ekaaham jeevitam seyyo, passato amatam padam. Though one should live a hundred years, without seeing the Deathless State, yet better indeed, is a single day’s life, of one who sees the Deathless State.’

I closed my eyes and saw Abdul Karim is released from jail and now at his house with Rashida Begum. Siraj came back, he was smiling at us, and I am standing there, holding Esha’s hand.

But life ain’t a fairy tale and Ani doesn’t possess any power to change the course of the fate.

I walked out slowly from the hospital to the road. The moon was smiling at me, the south sky is getting cloudy, it might rain tonight. But I will walk, and I will go and stand on the same over-bridge, who knows, may be another patrolling police force will arrest me, may be this time I will be able to change the story.





False Nine


(False nine is a football/soccer deception tactic/strategy, where the main striker drops deep into midfield create confusions between opponent defenders whether to follow or mark him, thus creating opportunities for wingers or attacking midfielders to score. The name false nine derived as typically the No.9 awarded the position of main or centre forward but not actually playing this role in the field.

To keep it simple for football non-followers, it’s a ploy by the main striker to keep the opponent busy thinking he is the man to stop, but his team members grabbing that opportunity and score instead.)


Rehman was sitting in the dressing room, its half time now. His team is behind 1 goal. The scoreboard is showing 0-1 after the intense 45 minutes.

He has past his glory days. Now he is just a 33 years old ‘once upon a time’ famous striker for his club, he is nothing but a shadow of himself. This whole season he is yet to score. Being a member of his football club for last 8 years, he hasn’t face such draught of scoring goals. Age is catching up with him, making him sluggish and blunt. There was a time when he was called ‘The Eagle’, where ever he was on the field his target was always the opponent goal post.

The new coach is kind to him. While he is giving chances to all new and young talents, he never side-lined Rehman, yet. Even he did not change his position from the centre forward. May be that is also his tactics. Like most of the games even in this match also he is playing his lone striker role.


Coach: “Boys we need to buckle up now. We just need a draw to reach the semi finale. Good news is we are lagging behind only 1 goal, and the bad news is we are behind. No matter how, we have to score in this half and also defend our post by any means. We will go in as 4-3-2-1 formation but slowly we will change into 4-3-3.

Gautam and Rudy will attack from left and right. I want Rehman to slide down time to time and make sure the ball supply is not cut off by their defenders, and yes at any opportunity Rajiv will make a run at their goal post, let them mark Rehman, he will make dummy runs at times. Rajiv you have missed two easy opportunities, if you miss another one, I’ll have your head.”


Rajiv, the 23 years old attacking midfielder, is the blue eyed boy of the current coach. He is young, fast and strong like an ox. This season he had already 4 goals in his name. He made his mark as a top notch game maker and also a scorer. Gautam and Rudy are the left and right wingers and they too have few goals under their names. Coach decided to play the false nine tactics to make the opponent guessing and the false nine is Rehman, he has clear instruction to give Rajiv and gautam more spaces to go on attack where he has to come down and keep the ball supply on.

Rehman let out long sigh, it’s very well might be the last season here for this club.


About 5 minutes to go for the 2nd half, Rehman was drinking water from the tap when he heard the voices from the next room

1st voice: “I don’t want to see those legs scoring a single goal in this match. I have promised Mr. Shastri that his club will win and go to semis. If even by mistake you score. I will cut off those legs and auction them.”

2nd voice: “Please Mr. Dhandhania, I won’t do a thing against your wish. But give another 1 month to pay you back, please…..”


With a palpitating heart and without a minute sound Rehman peeped inside the room, it’s the land shark Dhandhania talking to someone inside. Dhandhania is quite well known in the local football circuits. As most of the football players come from poor backgrounds, these loan sharks and betting skulls takes all the advantages of these poor players. They provide them loans in high interest rates and then make them puppets of their hands.

Many footballers career has been spoilt by these money lenders. Rehman was wondering who the other person inside the room with Dhandhania as he can’t clearly see. Dhandhania walked out of the room, followed by the player inside, it was Rajiv!!

In a flash Rehman remembered how Rajiv missed two easy chances in the 1st half, he was this close to put the ball behind the net and then he kicked it off the goalpost.


The whistle for the 2nd half is called, two teams were again up against each other. Rehman was keeping a close eye on Rajiv. The game was 73 minutes old when it happened.

A superb pass was made by Rudy to Rajiv, Rehman saw Rajiv making his move against the opponent goal post, as he dribbled and ran towards the goalkeeper and two other defenders, then the audiences and viewers of the ground witnessed something they never saw or heard before.

Rehman pushed down Rajiv and snatched the ball from Rajiv, probably the first time in the history of the game people saw the player snatching ball from his own teammate. Rehman dodged the defender and the advancing goalkeeper, confused the other defender by a left side run and then shoot the ball to his right. GOAL!!!!!! The spectators roared and stood up, bowed to the old magician of the game.


As the match ended 1-1, Rehman’s club easily moved to Semi-finals being ahead of numbers of goals scored. In the dressing room it was only Rehman and the coach standing.

Coach: “What was that all about?”

Rehman: “I got greedy coach, 5 games and no goal yet, I couldn’t control myself.

Coach: “You probably have to explain it to the management, where I see, your football career is over. I didn’t expect it from you. It’s a case of sheer disobedience and foolishness, you don’t make fouls against your own player and steal the ball from him….


As the coach walked out, Rajiv walked in…..

Rajiv: “Why?”

Rehman: ”I heard you and Dhandhania, couldn’t let you make the same mistake I have done years back.”

Rajiv’s broke down.

Rajiv: “You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to throw your career for me. The disciplinary action should have taken against me, not you.”

Rehman replied with a smile, “I am the false nine, remember?”





* Is this heaven?

** No!

* But I am supposed to be in Heaven.

** Why?

* Because I am true servant of the almighty. I killed and get killed for him. I slew the infidels anyone who do not believe him, mock him and deny his existence

** And do you think you deserve heaven for that?

* Yes!

** I don’t know who your God is and where is your heaven. You are in the hospital and I am your doctor, I have removed the bullets from your body. Cops are waiting outside, once I am done they are free to interrogate you and arrest you.

* You saved my life. You must be sent from above by my God.

** No. I am just a human sent by no one, cause I still don’t know how to receive orders from somebody and take innocent lives and been promised heaven. Now if you excuse me, I have to carry my 9 years old son’s body to burial ground, whom you killed this morning along with another 31 people.

Pickpocketer – The End


It took a while for Arun to set his eyes in the darkness, small rays of light is falling onto the floor of the shop. Masand Lal’s jewelry shop, where Swapna works.

It’s been 6 months Arun is working in the coffee shop next to Swapna’s workplace. They were happy, Arun did not hesitate to ask out Swapna within a week time and she shyly agreed. Things were going fine when the fate decided to intervene. Swapna’s mother’s health started decorating, as the doctor’s reports came, Arun and Swapna came to know her mother needs a kidney transplant. In front of Arun’s very eyes his happy go lucky Swapna started becoming a shadow of her own self. Arun decided to take the matter in his own hand.

It’s 11:30 PM when Swapna’s mobile rang, it was Arun. The conversation lasted for 5 minutes and all Swapna heard is to pack all their bags as they are leaving the city today.

It’s almost 2 PM when Arun reached at Swapna’s place. “Is everything packed?” He asked. Swapna did not answer but her curious eyes were staring Arun. “I stole the jewels from Masand Lal’s shop, believe me, this is our best bet. Ask your mom and Ashna to get ready, we are leaving now.” Arun barked. “Are those jewels in that bag?” Swapna questioned.”Yes.” “Can I see them?” Arun gave the bag to her. She took it and moved back a few steps and tall figure appeared from her bedroom. Arun’s jaw dropped. It’s the same snatcher!

As Arun looked at Swapna she was smiling impishly standing right next to the guy who apparently snatched her bag that day.

“Bravo Swapna, I never thought your plan would be this successful. How do you know you could have trapped him this easy?” The snatcher was laughing.

“Oh I did not Rashid. That day when I asked you to take my bag and run I was just playing a prank on him, I spotted him long back as he was following me. But as they say, the prey itself walked into the trap. Even I never imagined he would be this useful.” Swapna was laughing too as she answered Rashid.

“Here mister, let me return the favor of that day when you tripped me off in the street.” Rashid face suddenly turned hard and cruel. Arun felt a strong thud on his left cheekbone, Rashid’s next punch landed on his stomach, he fell on the floor catching his belly while cursing Rashid and Swapna.

“Come on Rashid, let’s go, it’s already late.” Swapna pushed Rashid in urgency as they hurried through the main door closing it behind them.

It took few minutes to recover for Arun. His head was blank, got a bleeding mouth and aching stomach, still he was smiling. He is a street kid of his whole life and though the last 6 months changed him lot, he did not lose his instinct. He never doubted Swapna, but tonight after he stole all those jewels, habitually he hid his loots in a safe place. The bag they got has only the imitations, fake jewelries. If the street taught him anything that is never trust anyone.

As Arun wiped the blood with his hand, he heard the vehicles and police sirens. “So that bitch called cops on me as well. Dirty whore.” he cursed under his breath. He quickly checked the main door, it’s bolted from outside. He moved the next room where Swapna’s mother and sister are supposed to be, there were none. Arun now was sure they were skilled actors playing their parts. He rushed to the kitchen; he knew the kitchen window is half broken and that’s the only way of his escape, he flexed his muscles.

As Masand Lal opened the shutter of his shop, he wasn’t surprise to see all his jewelry holders are empty, he expected that. When that waiter from the next coffee shop came twice in his shop with lame excuses he knew something is up. As he found the key of his shop is missing from his drawer, Masand Lal instantly replaced the jewels with the imitations. As usual the key magically reappeared in its place in half an hour but it couldn’t deceive Masand Lal. He was happy, now he can claim the insurance for his lost golds which are not even gold. Masand Lal removed the Lord Krishna’s image from his wall and his hidden vault emerged, as he opened the combination lock he felt a sharp pain in his chest, the vault is empty, the thief took the real jewels as well.

Arun was running in the empty streets. His heart was twitching as his eyes were wet. He really liked Swapna, but a street rat like him shouldn’t have dreamt for such bliss. He wiped his tears and clenched his teeth, he shall have his revenge.

The mall security guard was shocked to see the terrace door was ajar not locked. He took a quick look though and locked the door after him. No one would have noticed an old torn bag was lying with other garbage there, with 5 million worth of gold jewelries in it.

A Story


He wrote. “You look so beautiful in that pink and blue dress. When you smile, the heaven smiles, you speak like a nightingale; I hear the sound of thousand waterfalls when you giggle, those deep dark deep eyes is deeper than any lake of the world and those cheeks are rosier than any red rose. And here I am, looking at you like a fool”.

He looked at her while she was busy writing something and playing with a pint of hair with her left hand. He sighed and glanced back at his piece of paper before he throws it into the dustbin.

She wrote. “You look so handsome in that white shirt and blue jeans. You appearance has a sublime meaning, those strong arms can hold somebody secure and those stronger shoulder can carry anyone till the end of the world. Your soft speaking, naïve yet wise personality, there’s not one thing I dislike about you”.

She finished writing and looked back at him, saw him threw a piece of paper to the dustbin while taking the last few sips from his coffee cup. She sighed and tore the paper into pieces.

“She is so beautiful, so cute and I am such a fool, she must have someone better in her life”, He knew he could never gather enough courage to ask her out.

“He is so handsome and I am so ugly, he must have gorgeous girl with him” , She thought, she could never tell him how much she likes him.

Before he could reach out and shout, she started her scooty. The mini truck she didn’t see coming hit her down. She only saw him running at her and then its darkness.

“She wants to see you for one last time.” Doctor told him.

Miserably, hopelessly he entered the hospital ward room, sat next to her, looked at her pain clad face and closed eyes. He whispered, “All my love declared, for you, to you”. To his surprise, she opened her eyes and replied, “Mine too”.

Puzzled he looked at the doctor now laughing at them. “You kids are awful these days; you people needed an accident to declare your love? Sorry for my theatrics, but just couldn’t help. She just has few minor injuries and a fractured leg. If you take good care of her she would be alright in a month.”


She: isn’t it suppose have a tragic, sad ending?

Me: Yes, it supposes to, but then I thought a happy ending won’t hurt anybody.

She: Strange, so this time you won’t kill your character by the stroke of your pen; I wonder how all of a sudden you become so kind hearted?

He: Because I begged him not to kill you, because I pleaded him for our togetherness, happiness, because I told him, just

because you are a lonely and sad man, you have no rights to play with the lives of your characters.

And then they went back into the story and lived there happily ever after.


The English willow



Almost all the crickets’ fans know about the English willow bats. They are considered the finest wood to make a cricket bat. Back in days and even today some of the legends of cricket prefer it over any other kind.

But this story is not about that but it’s about the owner of that cricket bat.

I was fourteen than, just promoted to 8th standard. During the adolescence period, we all encounter that serious urge to have an idol, whom we can follow, a hero, an icon. Mostly they are legends of sports or in real life the elderly young and popular guy in your neighborhood.

Back then, our hero was Robin or as we used to call him Robin da. (Da is the short form of dada which means elder brother e.g. bhaiya or anna, most of the adults are being addressed so by their juniors in the eastern part of India)

Robin da was a prodigy, equally good at sports and other activities, plays & theatres, poet recitation, a star cricketer for his college team and an awesome singer. During our childhood we were watching him with awe, wanted be like him. He was our ‘go to man’ for any trouble.

He had cricket bat, a UK made English willow once gifted by a distant uncle of his. That was his life literally. He hardly let any one touch it, even his closest friend. As being a kid then I was obsessed with that bat, always wanted to play with it. Robin da was fond of me, in fact because of his backing I used to be included in colony cricket team. But he never either let me touch that bat.

Our next door family was really close to us. Their eldest daughter Neelima, she was very talented, Very good at studies, good in music and arts and probably the most beautiful girl in our neighborhood. Neelu di (Di again is the short form of didi, which means elder sister and again in most of the eastern part it’s use to address) as I called her and Robin da was in same college. She was in 2nd year arts group, Robin da was in 3rd year B.Sc. We all knew they like each other. But they never spoke to each other till date. Not even a word.

Neelu di was so very fond of me. I was her sweet and younger brother from other parents. I liked her too. My friends used to pass comments about Robin da and Neelu di but I was absolutely reluctant that time about so.

It was in the month of January, our winter vacation was just ended. Robin da called me to his house.

“Would you do something for me”, he asked.

“Sure, why not, tell me.”, I replied.

He pulled out an envelope and gave it to me. As soon as I had it, I was trying to open it.

“Don’t, that’s personal. You have to give it to Neelu.”

I knew what that means and I would do it happily but then the Lucifer whispered in my ear.

“I will, if you let me play with your bat. There’s a match coming today afternoon.”

I could see his uneasiness, not because that he didn’t trust me with it but he never shared his bat with me.

“Take it or leave it. Either let me play with you bat or find a pigeon to deliver you letter”, I made a face.

“Ok, but I want it back right after the match, and this will be the last time. And don’t you forget to give this to Neelu first.” He said while handing over the bat and the envelope.

I hardly listened to him finishing his sentence, I snatched both the letter and the bat ran to the ground.

The experience of playing with that bat was out of the world. Smooth grip, slight curvature of its surface. As expected I completely forgot about the letter.

Evening that day when I went to his place to return the bat, he asked me,

“So you gave her the letter?”

I was dumbfounded and started to stammer. “I.. I forgot, I’ll give it to her tomorrow.

‘Thud!’ there was a sound and for few seconds I could see only darkness. It was a heavy and powerful slap from Robin da, while he was yelling at me I was still gaining my senses.

“Idiot, tonight she and her family going out for 2 weeks vacation, I told you to give the letter to her first, you useless stupid ass, I knew I should never depend on you.”

I almost ran out of his house while trying to hide my tears, I never expected Robin da to hit me that too so hard. All my respect and love for him was vanished in thin air.

I came back home, but returning home, I finished my unfinished job. I went to Neelu di’s place; she was outside so I waited for her till she came back.

“Neelu di, here’s a letter for you, from Robin da”, I gave it to her.

“Oh! What is in it?” She smiled and took it.

“How would I know, maybe he wrote how much he loves you an all”, I spoke uninterestedly.

“And how you know all that?” she asked mischievously.

“Well he definitely likes you more than anyone else, that’s for sure. For you he can hit me also”. I voice was full of pain and anger.

“What are you talking about? Why your left cheek is so red”, she tried to touch my cheek.

“None of your business.” I spoke those words and ran out of her home as well.

Me and Robin da was started to grow apart from that day. I was now more interested in football, almost stopped talking to him. He sensed that, he tried to apologies but I was in no mood to hear him out. After almost a year passed, one day after a match when I came back home I was surprised see Robin da at my place waiting for me.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Fine”, I replied. Indifferently

“Can we go to your room; I need to talk to you.”

“What you want to talk about?” I asked angrily

He almost pushed to my room, I was wondering why he was doing that, and then I saw it in his hand.

“Here, it’s yours”, in his extended hand it was the English willow.

“You keep it, I don’t need it. I even stopped playing cricket”. I was unmoved.

“I know that, and I know I am responsible for that. So I am offering this to you. Take it and forgive me. Start playing again.”

“Why such change of heart suddenly”, I asked sarcastically.

He smiled, “Neelu came and spoke to me today”.

Though I was angry with him, this news made me happy, at last they together, at last they spoke to each other. I was happy for them.

“But what about you? What will you play with?”

“I am buying a new one idiot”, he laughed.

“Ah, so that’s why you are giving me the old one? Ok, forgiven, but not before you give us a grand treat”, Now the tension between us was slowly easing out.

“Sure thing.’ He smiled again, “Now you take good care of my willow”.

That day night Robin da hanged himself. Police found his note which said ‘no one is responsible for my death’. I guess Neelu di herself told him, how her parents found a perfect match for her, a doctor from another city. They did not want to lose such a golden alliance and wanted to marry her off as soon as possible. Few days after that incident Neelu di got married and move to another city.

That night I did not go to hospital to see our Robin da for the last time, though all my family members went. I did not even go to the cremation ground. I cried whole night hugging that bat. And never I did forgive Neelu di,never!

(Based on a true event)

Shortest Creepy stories



  • It was a fallen star on the north sky. I looked at it and an angel appeared in front of me. “Make a wish”, she said. I smiled and replied, “I already did”. The next moment she was in chain, screaming as her wings were burning.


  • I was so thirsty; I walked down to the drawing-room at midnight, finished drinking from the bottle, kept it on the table and looked at the wall mirror. My reflection was still drinking; guess it’s thirstier than me.


  • “What am I doing in a grave yard?” She asked.

“No clue”, I replied, “I just dug you up”.


  • The little girl in my neighborhood sometimes makes me nervous with her uncanny abilities. It gives me jitters when she says she speaks to her dead father often.

Hope he didn’t tell her about that fateful day we went fishing  together; it wasn’t exactly an accident after all!


  • When she plays around, laughing and giggling and whispering in the house, disturbing my peaceful goodnight sleep. Sometimes I regret the decision of burying her in the backyard, while she was still alive.


  • She lovingly placed her hand on the surface of the table, which is his limbless torso. The four legs of the table, are his hands and legs. And the pen holder, ah! Her favorite, his head.


  • As I reach out to my chest pocket to for some changes I could only find fingers.” Last night souvenir”, I chuckled! I should really stop forgetting them in my pocket, pulling out dismembered fingers in public bus isn’t a pretty sight.


  • I love watching horror movies. Only thing bothers me is after watching them when I go to bed at night, I always feel there’s someone under my bed. It gets weirder when I feel the touch when I’m asleep.


  • As I answered the phone, a familiar voice asked, “Do you know who I am?”, “I do”, I replied. As the voice in the phone start laughing hysterically, I was quietly looking at my cold body lying there on my bed, since last night.


  • ‘I don’t know exactly, how to express the last few words of my life. All I could say is I was never good spouse. I guess I am ashamed of what I have done and I know I cannot make it right. May be this is the best way it can end. Sleeping pills and coffee. At least I would go doing whatever I love most, looking at her while drinking coffee.’

*Husband: “Honey, what are you writing?”

**Wife: “Nothing, just trying to copy your handwriting. It’s fun. Now finish your coffee, it’s getting cold. “



Two kinds of people

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There are always two kinds of people in this world. Let’s know them.


  • There are two kinds of people. People who are seriously funny and people who seriously think they are funny

  • There are two kinds of people. People who love the rain and people who get wet in the rain

  • There are two kinds of people. People who love classics, movies and books and then who read them and see them again and again

  • There are two kinds of people. Who read books in Amazon kindle and who love the smell of new books

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are hopelessly romantic and who have boyfriend/girlfriend.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are scared of ghosts and people who have seen them.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who love poetry and people who love money and fame.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are special and people who are special, cause they make you feel special.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love writing poems and people who feel them.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who are samurais and who are ninjas.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who speak truth and then them who think everybody deserves happiness.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love the sun and people who love air-condition.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who think love happens only once and people who actually fall in love.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love to watch Cricket and who watch IPL.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who get gifts in their birthdays and people who get notifications in their Facebook page.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who believe in perfection and who love cloudy sky in a summer afternoon.

  • There are two kinds of people. Those who go to Paris in their vacation and those who read 7 novels in 10 days.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who make love and people who just have sex.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who have seen Taj Mahal in a full moon night and people who did not.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love eating chocolates and who have diabetes.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who rule countries and kingdoms and people who fought and died for its freedom.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love their privacy and those who are lonely.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love reading stories and who love stories.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who believe in God, religion and spirituality and people who know Galileo Galilei and Nicolaus Copernicus.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who can swim and the sailors

  • There are two kinds of people. People who keep their promises and who are politicians.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who love tea and people who like other hot or cold beverages.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who are non-vegetarians and people who vaguely remember the work of Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who are scientists and who have Ph.D degrees with a job.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are poets, writers and artists and people who did not want to be them.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are afraid of dark and people who are heartbroken.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who love challenges and people who smile at them and slowly walk away.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who speak English and people who know other languages.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who love football (Soccer) and people who know about other sports

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are serial killers and then there was Jack the Ripper.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who read Sherlock Holmes and people who read other works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who believe we are the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve, and people who know, in the ancient world, somewhere a spaceship crash landed with a bunch of aliens.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who read Ravindranath Tagore’s work in Bengali and people who don’t know Bengali.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who know Shakespeare and people who can recite him anytime, anywhere.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who love to debate and people who are sore losers in arguments.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who are alcoholic, womanizers and don’t give a damn kinds and then them who secretly hate their guts.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are terrorists and people who follow Islam.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who believe in true love and people who know truth and love.

  • There are two kinds of people. Friends and school friends.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who never could ask out their childhood crush and the luckiest people on the earth.

  • There are two kinds of people. Who use instagram and who use snapchat.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who remember their school days with joy and sorrow and people who are in school.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who read comics hidden inside their text books and people who have to go to work, everyday.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who are achievers and people who want to build a time machine which can travel to future.

  • There are two kinds of people. People who will read this blog and people who won’t.


(Disclaimer: All the above are not copied from internet, rather they are thoughts of this idle brain. So have fun and comments if you please)







The Fall

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I had a fall. I had to fall.

Couldn’t fall back, as I’ve to stand tall

A tell a tale, before the nightfall

As it ends, how we know all


I was trying to stall my great fall

Dear o dear, haven’t I heard the call?

Of all the reality, dreams above all

With all insanity, I am drawn to a brawl


And I fell on my face, fall flat after all

Pulled myself up, bloody nose I growl

Wounded and hounded, like a fighter Gaul

And then, slowly and painfully, I took a stroll


Just Friends…

Now it’s all over, we fell apart. So you have to ask me, “Can we still be friends?”
You want to play nice, you want to act wise, but you know broken heart never mends.
So you want to offer me a consolation prize, for the game we both played, but I lost.
The winner should leave with a winning note, so you took me, where once our path crossed.
Where once we met and promised to be together, forever. But promises are meant to be broken.
So now, as everything between us, turned into nothing; a few words though left unspoken.
But you don’t want to hear them, you are too blind to notice me, devastated and forsaken.
Standing in the rain and watching helplessly, as my beloved possession is snatched and taken.
So you touch my hand and ask me if I am ok, if I understand why I have to set you free.
“We will be friends, we will always be”, I know they are your last words to me.
Because you know, friends won’t be angry if you won’t call them before you sleep.
Because they won’t hold you anymore and won’t stop you go down and drown so deep.
I am telling you now, I am no friend of yours and you can forget it, as I will only refuse.
I never wanted a friend like you and I will never be in need of any, so don’t say it anymore.
All I ever asked for is your love and only so, don’t make the word friendship a dirty excuse.
And stop saying, “Can we still be friends? Only friends?”standing very next to my door.