The Youth World

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2011-05-02T23:48:00.000+05:30

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In Illusion (Story)

2011-02-28T20:53:00.001+05:30

In Illusion

This story was shared by Hiral Arora

Kelly was lying down. An appropriate thing to do at past one after midnight. Not asleep yet but thinking and pondering upon the days events. She asked the same question to the walls everyday, every single stinking day. Of course she received no answer.

She had loved one, and only one man this dearly. He complimented her so well. It was obvious that they were meant to be. Her friends teased her with his names. On such occasions she blushed and denied that claims. She joked with him as to how stupid her friends could be. He laughed with her too. And then he held her hands in his own and they would stargaze for as long as time and their moms would allow.

Everything was not so straight. Gosh! Guys are so dumb- Kelly often repeated. He still thought of her as only a friend. Somehow she knew he loved her. Maybe he was not saying it as he feared she might not reciprocate? How dumb.

Kelly had tried many times to remove that hesitation form his mind, although inconspicuously. She too had that “What if?” dilemma. She did not want to lose what she had with Kevin in want of a bit more. Being a girl who liked to pay her own bills, that is to say not quite a fan of chivalry, she still wanted him to make the first move.

Gosh! Why are guys so dumb! She thought, fluffed her pillow and tried to sleep. But it was impossible. Their conversation was playing in her mind. It was her birthday today. Kevin had called her at 12 and they had talked for an hour. They would have talked for more, thanks to their night calling plans, had he not had his exams. “Fucking exams!” she cursed. It had been her who forced him to hang up.

Probably I can live with this forever, Kelly wondered. Maybe not more but we can still be friends. We can still call each other up at ungodly hours. We can still continue our stargazing ritual. We could still casually flirt with each other, anytime. There was no problem.

But whatever. If he decided to move on and hook up with some other girl. The thought was unbearable to Kelly. No, he wont- she liked to think. He would at least give me one chance. Wont he? Why would he? She did not have any romantic control over him.

Maybe she should find someone else too…..or wait? She had been in this indecision for months now. But each time she thought about it, it brought the same amount of pain as it had done the first time. No one could take his place.

Boys! She was angry now. Let him go to hell. Oh chuck it I know he loves me! The dumbass doesn’t realize how much I would stake for those 3 words. She had long since decided that she wont be the first one to speak up. If he doesn’t do it soon enough now….I don’t know…

I’ll live in illusion….

And then she fell asleep.

- Hiral Arora

For other stories, articles and poems by the same author visit - Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

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Custom Adidas - The Oz(Design on Adidas Shoes)

2011-02-26T21:39:00.004+05:30

Custom Adidas - The Oz

This work was shared by Mazhar Bagasrawala

- Mazhar Bagasrawala

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Things to do before the World Ends (Article)

2011-02-08T20:03:00.002+05:30

Things to do before the World Ends

This article was shared by Neha Bharadwaj

So, its 2011 at last and before you know it 2012 would be here too. Pause before you move onto 2013 my friend! After the millions of books, movies, articles, astrology, and gossip of the world coming to an end in December 2012, don’t u think its time we pulled up our socks??

Bar all the adults who may be reading this, but my fellow youth!! Don’t you feel unfair that we have not even led half our life yet?? Well I do! All I’ve lived is seventeen years in which majority time I gave up in studying and giving exams.

Some of you would not believe in “D-day” or “judgement day” while others may be living in fear everyday! So I graphed out a list that I think all of us should do before the year ends and we face our sad demise. Even if we do survive I can bet the experience would be memorable! So now at least when some zombies come to eat our brains…we won’t regret it!

1. Learn a foreign language. Go to that country and use it.

2. Sleep for 24 hours straight.

3. Try bungee jumping from the freakiest heights ever!

4. End something you really fear. Even if it’s a person animal insect etc. the feeling after that would be

wonderful!

5. Write a ballad for someone you love. Even if you fear being rejected go ahead and spill the beans...all you know they would feel the same for you.

6. Try being vegan for a month. You will realize how much there is to eat other than animals

7. Learn to cook something. NOT from a can or box. And try not to burn down your house. Please!

8. Help someone out who never even imagined talking to.

9. If you are good be bad. And if you are bad be good :P

10. Ride the world’s scariest roller coaster until you can feel all your organs in your mouth!

P.S-feel free to add your bucket list in the comments...spread the joy people and get moving. Times running out TICK TOCK TICK TOCK!

- Neha Bharadwaj

The author of the above article is a passionate artist and her paintings can be viewed on - A Splash Of Colours

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Hand in Hand (Poetry)

2011-02-06T21:02:00.005+05:30

Hand in Hand

This poem was shared by Niyati Agrawal

Standing on my doorstep

Waiting for you to come

You pass me by

You didn’t even see me there

I thought that you would be busy

So I turned to go inside

That’s when I saw you with her

I hadn’t seen you like that before

Walking hand in hand

With her and kicking the sand

Flashing your best smile

You both walked a mile

I was happy because you were

Didn’t know it would pain so much

To smile when you’re around

When I knew it would never be us

You would never know that

The songs I write were for you

You are in my heart and mind

But I would do just fine

When I see you (bridge)

Walking hand in hand

With her and kicking the sand

Flashing your best smile

You both walked a mile

I cry in the night

The dreams clouded by the sight

Of you with her

But I know I won’t be fine

It’s just that I can’t cope anymore

Because something wasn’t right

I changed my thoughts

And it changed the sight

Now it’s us (bridge)

Walking hand in hand

You and me kicking the sand

Flashing your best smile

We both walked a mile.

                                    - Niyati Agrawal

Poet's other poems can be read on Window to My World

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Juliet (Story)

2011-02-05T21:32:00.002+05:30

Juliet

This story was shared by Achyuth Sankar

The cold air conditioned operating room greeted Tom as he walked in, fully scrubbed. The dim room with depressing green curtains and robes made almost every person in the room look alike, but it was clear who was in charge. The patient was laying face down, unconscious, oblivious. A doctor whose name Tom did not know approached Tom. He began telling Tom all the details regarding the case. Tom didn’t want to listen, he just wanted to get it over with. Two surgeries in one day, a third one at 2 in the night, the world seemed to be going mad. Tom had had a pretty tiring day, after all, spinal surgeries aren’t a piece of cake. But Tom knew what he was doing all the time; he had steady hands, and one really sharp brain to create a life-saving, money minting pair. As soon as the unnamed doctor finished briefing Tom-Tom had only one thing to say:

“Shall we begin?”

It was a gruelling task, a good two hours minimum, if all went well. But of course, there were so many factors which the “well” depended on. But Tom didn’t care. To him, this was just another human life to be saved, after all, he had signed up for this just to save lives, and saving lives doesn’t come with fixed working hours. He knew the deal, he took it. But what most forget to fathom-the mind does not always have power over the body. True, will is there, but there’s only so much will can do. Tom learnt the lesson the hard way. He willed himself to operate tirelessly, but his body needed the rest. It was about an hour and a half into the surgery that his body made him realise his mistake. One twitch that was all it took to stop Tom’s heart for a whole second. One twitch, that was enough to almost guarantee that the sleeping patient would not move another muscle forever. Nobody noticed, but Tom’s trained mind did. A first bead of sweat escaped Tom’s clean white forehead, despite the air conditioning. He did finish the surgery. There was no way of knowing the after effects till they came. That’s a sad fact of life. It was a gruelling 45 minutes more before he could disrobe himself, and he made sure that he would be most slow, careful and vigilant. But milk, once spilt, cannot be poured back into the glass. He didn’t wait to talk to the spitting doctors. He immediately went to the surprisingly empty doctor’s lounge; there was always someone there either taking a break from an operation, or finding an excuse to stay away from home. But on that day, the lounge was empty. Tom slumped onto the leather couch, ready to ponder, ready to let his thoughts plot its own course within his conscience.

Tom just sat in the dark lounge, without turning on a single light or fan. He just sat in the eerie solitude. He hadn’t even known the patient. He had just seen the patient lying upside down. He had just seen the open back of his patient. He still didn’t know if his patient was under-age or an adult, he didn’t know his patient’s name, he didn’t know what he had cost his patient due to his tiresome body. He berated himself for not allowing himself some rest. He berated himself for thinking he could save everybody. But the fact that hit him the most was he had almost certainly ruined the life of someone who didn’t even know he existed. A saviour causing pain. He suddenly lost all emotional feeling, he felt numb inside. He didn’t know what to feel. He picked up his phone, opened his contacts list. Jack Walcott, there it was. It was strange that despite the fact that Tom had called Jack, his best friend, at least a thousand times, he still didn’t know the number by heart. He pressed the green button, and put the receiver to his ear. Each ring took longer than the previous. It seemed after an eternity that the ringing stopped, and was answered by a groggy voice.

“Yeah, what happened?”

Tom hesitated; he didn’t know what to say.
“Tom, you there?” came another question from the other end.
“I’ll call you later, sorry”, said Tom. He hung up. He didn’t know what to say.
He turned his phone off, he didn’t want to answer a call he was certain he would receive from Jack. He got up to leave the lounge; he just wanted to leave the empty room. On his way out, he stopped in front of a mirror. There was barely any light. He flicked the switch on, and was surprised at this reflection. The mirror showed a tall man, decently built, but with sunken green eyes, shadow of a beard, unkempt blonde hair, and an expression that said “I need a break from life”. Tom didn’t think anything. He turned the switch off. Darkness flooded the room once again, but Tom opened the door and left the empty darkness behind. The corridor ahead was quiet. Tom walked, not knowing where. He just wanted to do something, maybe then he would start feeling something. He reached the stairs. He chose to go down. The staircase was dark. He felt as if the whole world was sleeping, and only he was awake. He reached the ground floor, and looked around. He saw a couple of sleeping people, probably relatives of patients in the ICU or Post Op ward. Tom kept walking forward, absent minded, drowning in his own mind, hoping to catch a glimmer of feeling.

“Hello Dr.Thomas, I didn’t know you were still here. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Tom turned around. It was Maria, the good natured receptionist, who almost always had the night duty. All she had to do was watch soap operas on the insanely small TV of hers, unless of course, on the rare occasion of a case walking in late at night.

“No thanks Maria”, said Tom, with a difficult smile. Maria gave a shrug and she promptly got back to her TV. It must’ve been on mute, no sound was coming from it. Tom looked at Maria once again.

“Actually, can you help me out? I operated on a patient just now; can you give me her whole file?”

Maria nodded, her chubby good natured face showing no irritation. Tom walked up to the reception.
“You look terrible doctor. No sleep?”
“You too noticed eh?Yeah,no sleep.”
Maria nodded again, as she searched her database. She opened a drawer below the table, and immediately pulled out a thin yellow file. It seemed too thin, not too much info. Tom smiled, took the file.
“I won’t be long”
He went back to the lounge, this time on the elevator. He immediately turned the fans and lights on. He took a seat on the couch once again, and opened the file. The first thing he noticed was the patient’s photo. It was a girl. She had long brown hair, thin yet beautiful eyebrows, blue and expressive eyes, and pink lips. She looked incredibly pretty, but there was something extremely pained in her eyes. She looked as if she were silently begging the viewer to save her.
“I was supposed to save her, but I gave her another reason to be saved from”, thought Tom sorrowfully. He looked to the right of the picture.

Name-Juliet Brooks
Age-25
Ethnicity-Caucasian
that was all that was in the file. He turned the page.
“Previous medical history unknown”
He turned the page.
“Case History: Patient involved in a drunk and drive accident. Major concussion, fractured right leg, shard penetration in the spine, no consciousness.”

He had operated on her spine, he had removed 3 glass shards, and it was during the 4th one that his hand twitched. He suddenly went back, in his mind, to the Operating Room. He didn’t remember a patient with long brown hair. All he saw was a thin patient with boy-cut hair. He hadn’t even seen her face. He turned the file for more info, but that was all. No medical history, no home address, nothing.He got up from the lounge, and went back down to the reception, this time by the stairs. He went straight to the reception. He placed the file on the table, and cleared his throat; Maria was too engrossed on her mysteriously soundless TV show.

“Oh Dr Thomas, I hope the file was of help.”
Tom looked at the file again, and without looking up, he said,
“How was she brought in? I mean, the patient, how was she brought in?”
Maria looked puzzled.
“What do you mean doctor?”
Tom was getting irritated suddenly.
“Was she driven her? Was she in an ambulance?”
Maria gave a relieved expression.
“Hose was brought in by the Emergency Services Ambulance. We were the nearest hospital, so they brought her here.”
Tom was even more curious.
“Did they find anything on her? Wallet? Address? Anything?”
“They did find a wallet, but it had just a few dollars and a hospital bill from Gonzales Memorial. No address, no cards, no photos, nothing. We got her old picture and age from Gonsalves, they faxed it in. No history is known. She apparently went to consult a gynaecologist. Routine pregnancy check is what they said. They didn’t add it to her file ‘cuss apparently she didn’t have the cash to pay for the treatment”
Tom asked,” Has anyone tried to contact her yet?”
“No doctor.Say,why are you so interested?”
“I have my reasons. Is there any way someone can be intimated regarding her condition?”
Maria gave an expression of deep thought.
“She was brought in wearing a waitress’ uniform; maybe it has an id card. Want me to check?”

Tom nodded. Maria got out of the reception area and went into a small back door. Tom was temporarily left alone in thought. Was she poor? Could she pay for this? Did she have anyone? Those were one of the many questions running within Tom’s head. Tom just wanted some reason to calm himself, he didn’t know what. Maybe the fact that Juliet had some family or maybe the fact that she could be okay the next day….but Tom wasn’t kidding him. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Maria returned with a badge.

“RodoShack Diner”
Maria gave the badge to Tom.
“It’s a diner, about a couple of blocks from here, doctor.There was nothing else.”
Tom nodded his thanks, and walked back up to the lounge. He sat slowly on the couch. Juliet was a 25 year old waitress, working hard to make ends meet, and he had just ruined everything for her. He wanted to cry, or shout, or even laugh, but the blank feeling was killing him. He put the badge in his pocket, and sat without any thought, until his body took over and lulled him into a sleep.

“Tom? Tom? Tom? You okay? Wake up!”
Tom heard these words as echoes in an eternally long corridor. He suddenly woke up, and for a moment, he felt hopeful. Maybe the operation was a dream. But he felt a small weight in his chest pocket. It was the badge. Everything was real. He looked up at the source of the voice. It was Jack.
“Jesus Christ, I was worried Tom. What happened?”

Tom looked at his watch.8:30 am it showed. He immediately got up and rushed out the lounge, leaving Jack behind with a puzzled gaze. The anaesthesia would have worn off. Tom would know if Juliet was okay or not. He ran down to the first floor, the Post Op Ward. The nurse knew him, she flashed a smile, but he couldn’t recall her name. He just smiled back and rushed in. He looked at the patient bed list. Juliet Brooks, bed 26.Tom walked briskly to the end of the dark passageway. Bed 26.He saw her for the first time, face looking sunken and tired, eyes closed. Maybe she was asleep. He saw a nurse two bed’s away. He signalled her. She came to him.
“What’s this patient’s condition?”

The nurse consulted her charts.

“Patient’s anaesthesia wore off at 6:55 today morning, but she has not responded to external stimuli. All her metabolic functions seem to be working properly. Suspected paralysis.”
Tom did not take his eyes off Juliet’s tired face, serenely asleep. He nodded his thanks. The nurse left. He just stood there, looking at her, looking at the fruits of his mistake. He lost track of time. He only noticed her chest go up and down, taking in slow breaths. He felt somebody’s hand on his shoulder. He turned around, and saw Jack.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
Tom said,
“Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

Over breakfast, Tom told Jack everything-his twitch, his mistake, his emotional numbness, his guilt, his helplessness. Tom said,
“Jack, have I killed this young girl?”
Jack slowly chewed his piece of sausage. He then replied, after swallowing.
“I suppose it’s useless to tell you that things like this happen in our line of work. I mean, it could’ve happened to me too, and for all I know, it will. It just was unfortunate that a young woman fell victim to this.”
Tom looked at Jack.
‘Fell victim’? You talk as if it was an act of God or fate. It was my bloody error, and now she’s a bloody vegetable. You know, the hospital’s keeping her only ‘cus emergency services brought her in? She has no known way of paying the goddamn bills”
Jack immediately replied.

“Tom you fool, you can’t play angel, not in this world. Don’t you get it? We can only be as good as the world allows us to be. Right now, the hospital’s keeping her alive; the hospital’s given her a bed. Mistakes happen, but it doesn’t mean you should take her in and live with her or anything does it?True,the hospital needs a damn profit but-”
Tom cut in.
“Profit? PROFIT? A young girl who’s whole future’s ruined is lying without any sensation in the goddamn ward, and the you’re telling me about profit?”

“Tom, I’m just telling you what the hospital wants. I know you’re bleeding. I know you want to set right to the wrong, but I can’t help you, neither can you. You can only deal with it,’ us what’s done are done. You can’t bring her back”

“Easy for you to say “what’s done is done”, Jack.It wasn’t your scalpel that condemned a young girl to the bed”

Tom got up and started to leave.

“Tom,don’t do anything stupid.Tom!Tom,stay goddammit!”

Tom just went to the doors,got out,went straight to his car,and drove home.He got 7 calls from Jack,he answered none.Tom entered his home,dumped all his clothes in the washing machine,and stepped into the cold shower.He just stood there,allowing the cold water to calm him.But he wasn’t calm.The gravity of his actions began dawning on him like an avalanche on a single skier.He wanted to cry so much.It’s one thing to choke back tears,and it’s another to fight for them.He had to do something. He got out of shower,and called the hospital reception.The receptionist picked up.

“This is Dr.Tom Thomas.I need you to let me know if any visitor or enquiry is there for Post Op patient 26,Juliet Brooks.Can you do that?Page me if there is,okay?”

“Sure doctor.”

Tom lay down on his bed,his pager beside him.He placed a call to his boss,Kate Mason.
“Kate,I’m really worked up,I won’t be able to operate today,so please can you not page me for any case?”

“Sure Tom,I’ve been telling you to take a break for so long!Good for you”

“Thanks Kate”

Tom now looked at his pager.If it beeped,he’d know that Juliet had somebody.He’d feel a little reassured.So,he waited.He kept looking at the ceiling.The shadow of the window pane slowly moved from left to right,and finally vanished.Tom lay motionless,not even moving to turn the light on.It became midnight,and he lost his patience.No visitor,no call.He decided to go to RodoShack Diner and ask about Juliet,after all,she worked there.He changed immediately,not even pausing for a bite.He hadn’t eaten anything since that slight morning breakfast.For some reason,he felt this was more important.He hailed a cab,and asked him to drive to the diner.Tom paid the cabby extra,and he didn’t stop for a change,nor did he acknowledge the cabby’s grateful words.He just got out and gazed at an old but respectable diner.On the roof of the single floor building was a picture of a vinyl record,with “RodoShack Diner” written on it.Both the O’s were blinking,the rest were lit up in uniform white light.The diner was still open,to Tom’s surprise.Tom walked in to find a thin balding man idly wiping washed plates.His eyes lit up when he saw Tom walk in,nobody hated a customer after all.

“We got hot bacon sir,and fresh chicken sandwiches,grilled if you want it that way.Want me to knock ‘em up for you sir?”
Tom nodded.He waited for the thin man to return.The man did return.
“We don’t see many people here at this time,most come in the morning.I’m Jim by the way sir”
“I’m Tom”
“Well,nice to meet ya Tom, another night without business and I swear I would’ve got the sack, we all would have. Of course, there ain’t much of us to say “all”, plus, Juliet that damn girl’s gone missing. Lemme go get you some coffee sir”
“Wait Jim.Juliet isn’t missing, she’s in the DCC General. She met with an accident,I’m her doctor.I actually came to ask you about her only”
Jim’s eyes darkened,he was genuinely worried.
“Is she gonna be alright sir?”
“We’ll get to that in a bit.But it’s important that you tell me about her Jim,it may help us help her.”
Jim pulled up another chair and sat opposite Tom.
“What do you wanna know about Juliet sir?Just tell me she’ll be okay,I’ll do anything”
“First tell me,does she have family?”
“None that I know of sir.All i know is,about three years ago,she came knockin’ on this doorstep.I knew the very moment I set eyes on her that she had no cash on her,but she seemed like one really hungry girl,plus I have a daughter her age,so I pitied her and I let her stay.She never told me about any family.But she proved herself useful,she quickly learnt to wash the dishes,keep the place clean.She began helpin’ me out a lot.I even taught her to cook a lil’ somethin’.Then,Big Arthur,the owner of this joint,found out about her,and he took her with him to his house.She did come to work every day,but she slowly began to lose whatever little cheer she had.There were rumours tha Arthur was screwin’ her,but what can I do sir?I have three mouths to feed,and two young girls to fend for,I couldn’t raise a voice against Arthur.”
Tom remembered the Gonsalves Memorial report of Juliet’s visit to a gynaecologist.Maybe she was being taken advantage of every night.
“Tell me sir,is Juliet gonna be okay?”
“Jim,Juliet met with an accident.She’s paralysed now,and she’ll stay that way.No one’s visited her,and this diner’s badge was all I had from her,so I came.Jim,she needs someone to watch over her all the time,the hospital will keep her only for so long.Can you take her in Jim?”
“I would like to sir,believe me,I would,but then I’d have to starve my own daughters..but sir,please don’t let Arthur know about Juliet.Arthur thinks she ran away,best leave it at that.Let the poor girl be alone.”

Tom nodded.He took 50 dollars from his wallet,placed it on the table,and got up.

“Goodnight Jim”

“Juliet’s a nice girl sir,please don’t let her go to ruins.”

Tom thought to himself,”I already have”.

Tom was greeted by a surprising sight when he reached home.Jack was standing outside his door.
“You ignore my calls for a whole day,Christ,I was worried you’d done something stupid like resign or something.”
“C’mon in Jack.”
“Now, before you ask, Tom, she’s still in the same condition,and we did run scans and tests. There’s no way she’s gonna recover. She’ll remain in her current state till death. I suggested that we euthanise her to Kate, she was against it. She doesn’t wanna spend hospital fund on a plea for euthanasia."

Tom remained silent.Then he finally said,

“That girl’s been through so much Jack.Did I add another thorn to her wound?”
“Are you insane Tom?You’re acting like an emotional fool for Pete’s sakes.Can’t you realise that you made a damn mistake?Okay,the girl’s paralysed,you can’t do anything about it can ya?Look,if the girl were alright and about to make a recovery,even if she didn’t pay,we’d have her out of our asses,but since she’s paralysed,we’re stuck with her,or rather,the hospital is.The hospital will find some way to dispose of her,and you’ll be free of her,I’ll make sure of that.”

“ARE YOU SO DAMN INSENSITIVE?I CAN’T FORGIVE MYSELF FOR WHAT I’VE DONE,AND YOU THINK I WANT HER DISPOSED?...I thought you could understand me Jack,I thought you would,after all these years.”
“No Tom, I don’t understand you one bit. You think you can be a saint and save everybody, you’re gonna get more people, including yourself killed!! And the hospital is behind my ass to get you under control, so that we can dispose of the girl and have the bed free for a patient who can pay the damn bills.”
Tom looked at Jack with disgust.
“So, the hospital’s behind you to convince me to help the hospital “dispose” of the girl? I didn’t know you were that selfish Jack. What happened to the Jack who talked hours and hours with me about God’s mercy and goodness?”

“That Jack who talked to you was the Jack who liked to dream.This is the real me,Tom.And I don’t wanna tell you what you wanna hear,I will tell you what’s real, because you need to do what’s best for the hospital,for me and for you.”
Tom gave a cold stare to Jack.
“Get the hell out of my house”
“Tom,listen to me.I know you blame yourself.I know what you feel. I -”
“How dare you say you know what I feel after all you’ve said?”
“Just listen for a minute Tom. I know you feel miserable, and judging from what you’ve told me, the girl has nobody to fend for her, she has nobody to take care of her. I think it’s best for her,as well as the hospital, if she is silently put to sleep. There’s a nurse shift change at 7pm every evening, I’ll arrange for the medicine cabinet to remain unlocked just tomorrow. Do the right thing Tom. Look,I’m asking you to do this because I’m up for promotion. Tom, I’ll soon be one of the Board members, don’t you get it? Since you’re my friend, they expect me to control you for Pete’s sakes, and believe me, I don’t like this either, but Board of Directors is someplace where I can make things happen, I’ll have power, and I can’t let go of this just because some penniless girl is lying paralysed,draining the hospital’s resources.”
“Then why don’t you yourself euthanise her, Jack?”
“I can’t do this because even in the remotest chance that I get caught, all that I’ve worked for is doomed.”
“So, you’d rather I take the drop? Is that all you were? Have you changed? Is power the only thing that matters? What about our friendship? What about all these years? What about your talks about heart and goodness? Were those all a facade?”
“No Tom, and let me make this clear. I say what I say and I mean it, but when it comes to lookin’ out for myself, I’ll prioritise that above all else, even if its ethics. And as for you takin’ the drop, there’s almost no possibility, and even if there is, you can resign now, then I’ll get promoted, and I’ll get you right back in, simple. Look, I haven’t changed, I’ve always looked after myself, just that in all these years, it never involved you. Now it does involve you and that girl, and believe me, buddy, I will not risk my sacrifice, I’ve given a lot for this hospital, this job, and I ask you, as an old friend, do this for me. I can’t ask anything more, it’s up to you. Like I said, the medicine cabinet. The nurse duty shift change is the best time. I’ll distract anybody who wanders close. Do it for me,and also for the girl, you know you’d be helping her.”
“DON’T YOU DARE PRETEND YOU CARE FOR HER JACK!”
“I’m not pretending anything, you’re the one making judgements,Tom. You know, all this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t screw up”
“Yeah? Wow, you were the one saying that I was just human, and that errors happen. Now what happened? Chameleon change colours?”
“I told you that you were not at fault so that you could feel better, Tom. But now I don’t wanna tell you what you wanna hear, I wanna tell you the facts. You screwed up, it’s got me in a tough position, and I’m doing all I can to convince you to just kill the bloody girl, she has no one, no one will come looking for her, we’re all in the clear goddammit. I’VE SACRIFICED MY PERSONAL LIFE FOR THIS HOSPITAL,TOM,AND I’M NOT GONNA THROW IT AWAY ‘CUS MY ONCE BEST FRIEND STILL LIVES IN WONDERLAND AND HOPES FOR HAPPY ENDINGS. There are no happy endings.”
“Yeah, there are no happy endings Jack. And you did say one thing right. I am you “once” best friend. Get out now”
“For old times’ sake Tom,do this”
Jack waited for a reaction but got none. He eventually got up and left, leaving Tom alone, with a freight train of thoughts.

7 p.m. came faster than Tom anticipated. He walked to the post op ward. Bed 26. He looked at her sunken face, a shroud of peace over her oblivious mind. He noticed slight bed sore formation, he felt immense sorrow, sorrow beyond measure for his mistake. He sat beside her, and for the first time,he held her hands. They were rough,but warm.
“Maybe one day,we’ll meet in heaven, and you’ll ask me why I didn’t take you away. Maybe you’ll ask me why I myself didn’t take care of you, dspite having the means, I’ll have no answer for that. You have gone through more than I could imagine at such a young age, and I just added to your loneliness and misery. I sometimes wonder if my hand-twitch happened for a reason. I sometimes think that maybe this is good for you,’ because you’ll leave this suffering. But I dunno. You persevered for so long, maybe you wanted to live and see life’s store, and I would’ve asked you whether you wanted to live or die, but I know you’ll give me only silence, and I’ll have to decide for myself… Juliet, I’m sorry that your life has been so lonely. I’m sorry that I was so impersonal when I began operating on you, I’m sorry that someone so beautiful as you had to go through so much. I know that no amount of prayer will prevent my judgement, but I’ll pray every day that your soul finds peace, and I’ll pray every day that someday, somewhere, sometime, we meet, and you tell me all about yourself, because right about now, all my thoughts revolve around you. Juliet, before I take the ultimate leap of faith, I just want you to know that you’ve humbled me, I dunno how, but you’ve changed me. If they mean anything, then I’m sorry Juliet, for everything.”

He slowly went to the medicine cabinet, and took out a morphine drip bag. He replaced her glucose drip with the morphine, and increased the dosage. It was only a matter of time. He sat in painful silence. He lost track of time, but nobody came his way. Suddenly, he heard the high pitched scream of the departing soul-the flatline of the heart rate monitor. He turned it off, and replaced the glucose drip back ,but before he left, he took one last look at Juliet, and whispered to himself, "I hope you leave this mad world for a paradise.”

As Tom walked out from the Post Op ward, he saw Jack. Jack knew from Tom’s expression,that Juliet was no more. Jack gave a solemn nod to Tom. Tom didn’t even acknowledge Jack. Tom went to his car,and drove to the Holy Family Church close to his house. The priest, Father James, looked at him and said,
“You looked troubled son,can I help?”
“No Padre, I just want to pray tonight.”
“May the Lord be with you son”, said the priest, as he gave a pleasant smile and went back to the arrangement of the candles that he was engrossed in.

Tom sat on one of the empty benches, closed his eyes, and spoke to God.
“God, I still doubt my actions. A part of me thinks that I helped Juliet out of her misery, another part of me condemns me for not taking her in myself and having patience. I don’t know why I did what I did God, I just did them. I’m not here to ask forgiveness, God. I’m here to ask you one favour. Please take Juliet in, please don’t let her suffer, please let the poor girl be happy. And if you can God, tell me why all this is happening… God, you gave your life so that we would love each other like you loved us, you forgave us despite the gravest injustice and cruelty we committed against you, you did all this so that there would be good in this world,so that there’d be love. Now, don’t you see what’s happening? Or did you die knowing that all this would happen? Or was there another reason all together for your death? I keep wondering if my whole perception of you,and of right and wrong is upside down. I dunno. But I pray that it is not upside down, and I pray that you be with me, so that I can face tomorrow.”

Tom kept his eyes closed for a few more minutes, just saying prayers for Juliet. He never said a prayer for his own soul, asking forgiveness, not because he was arrogant enough to believe what he did was right, but because he left his judgement for the future, because he still could not tell if what he did was right or wrong. He still didn’t know why he listened to Jack, he still didn’t know why he didn’t take Juliet in, even though a part of him told him to care for her. He didn’t know…

Tom drove to the hospital once again,and immediately walked to Kate’s office.She was surprised to see him.
“Hello Tom, I thought you were having a couple of days off! What brings you back?”
“Kate, I’ll no longer return to work here, draft the resignation papers and send them to me, I’ll sign them as soon as I get it. You can cite the reason as health concern. And don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise Kate, my stand is final.”
“As much as it pains me to see such a wonderful surgeon leave, we can’t keep you without your
will. I’ll send the papers tomorrow morning itself.”
Kate gave a sympathetic smile, a smile which made Tom reek. He knew that she was in on all this with Jack, yet she was being diplomatic. Nothing in this world was what it seemed, everybody had another face. Tom wondered, could goodness ever exist in this world? He went to the lounge to collect his few belongings from the locker. On the way down, he stopped by the reception, and bade goodbye to Maria.

Two Years Later:

Tom sat down on his sofa after a hard day’s work. Private practice wasn’t easy, but it didn’t have such grave consequences. He stayed alone in his big apartment, earning enough to last a lifetime. But he trusted nobody, Jack was his last mistake. After cooking and eating dinner alone at his table, he finished all the chores, and decided to turn in for the night. But before that, he turned his table lamp on, opened his drawer, and pulled out a diary. It was the diary in which he wrote all his feelings down in. After all, he too needed a place to vent. He loved his diary a lot, because it always listened to what he had to say, never opposing, never saying hurtful things, always knowing what was in his mind. He sometimes wished that he would receive some word of encouragement or love from the very diary he held dear, so he gave his diary an identity in his mind. He imagined his diary to be a beautiful girl, about 25 years of age, with long brown hair, thin brows, blue eyes and pink lips. He always imagined her to wear a long yellow skirt, with a blue chain around her neck, and long ear-rings. He gave her a voice, and he imagined himself talking to her, and he imagined her talking to him. To him, she was everything, and he imagined he was everything to her. He would start and end his day with this figment of his imagination, his diary. But to him, everything seemed real. He treated the girl in his mind with respect, love, and he imagined being the person who did everything to make her happy. He gave her a name too. It was the name he used to address his diary. After writing his thoughts down, he’d sit and re-read the writing, and he’d imagine speaking those words to his imaginary princess, and he’d imagine her listening and replying. It was a small indulgence, not craziness. His favourite part, however, was always the last moment he spent with her every day. His words of goodnight, and imaginary kiss, as he whispered to her ears,” Goodnight Juliet”…

-Achyuth Sankar

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Mumbai Through My Eyes(Article)

2011-01-27T22:39:00.002+05:30

This article was shared by Achyuth Sankar

The first thing you notice about this city is the dust. It hits you in the face and fills your nose with a tingling and sneeze-inducing sensation. You notice the garbage and spit littered streets, with an assortment of transportations on the roads. You notice people walking window to window at every red signal, some begging and some selling. You notice an occasional gesture of charity mixed with the predominant indifference. You see a horde of people thronging the sidewalk. You see buildings crammed into tight spots. You see haphazardly made ‘chawls’ and also posh flats and the occasional bungalow. You see big shopping malls, gaming cafes, tall and menacing buildings that reflect modern evolution. But amidst all this, you see the most unique city in the whole of India.

The train stations are the most unique parts of Mumbai, and perhaps one of the most important. The number of people travelling by trains every day, or just crossing from east to west or west to east, is too high. There are makeshift shops on the sides of the platform, where you get clothes, duplicate cosmetics, mobile phone accessories, mosquito bats, and some odd items here and there. Every station has a Jumbo King vada pav joint close by. Oh yes, vada pav is a staple in Mumbai, and so are Pani Puris and Golas. One thing you’ll surely notice is that rickshaw drivers are really honest.

Mumbai has many people, and you brush past them without stopping to see who they are, and you never know whether they’ll enter your life again or not. Maybe they’ll be very important to you later on, but you’ll never remember brushing past them during some busy day. This gives an air of eagerness to Mumbai, an air of mystery.

There is a barrier between the people here. As mentioned before, you see the occasional charity shown by people, but if by chance the eyes of the beggar and the eyes of the giver meet, I doubt there’d be any acknowledgement in either of their eyes. To the casual observer,the rolled up windowpane may be all that separates the beggar and giver, but truly, there’s a world of a difference. Everybody’s busy with their own lives. After all,everybody’s in a race against time, as if each day is reduced to half its time. Everybody’s in their own shell, and maybe they’ve lost the driving force.

There’s a dialogue from some film I remember now. If it rains, it pours. Here in Mumbai, it certainly pours. There are two sides to this story as well. You ask a guy like me, and I’d say “Deliver us from this heat,O lord”, as I whole-heartedly welcome the rains. There are many like me, who wouldn’t mind the traffic blocks. After all, heavy rains mean no school, or atleast, an excuse to get inside the class late. But there’s the other side of the story, the side told by those living in challs, with not even a proper roof. They put sheets for roofs,and often,the sheets are littered with holes, causing water to drip into their homes. They use mugs to collect the dripping water, and periodically dump the water outside. Many-a-times, it so happens that due to the low elevation, many such homes get flooded, and the inhabitants become temporarily homeless. Would they rejoice that the heat is gone, or would they weep for being kicked onto the street by nature itself?

This city is one of dreams. So many migrate here in search of a better life,a better dream. Often though, reality is much harsher, but there’s a special enduring feel here. People give themselves false inspirations and move on, living in harsh conditions but still never giving up. There’s a lot of poverty, but in a more selfish note, it has benefited me. I’ve become more humble, I’ve begun to appreciate the many things that I have that others haven’t. There’s always the rich and the poor. This is a mixed town, everybody’s a hair’s length away but there is still that small length separating all. You eventually ask yourself,who’s better off.

The true beauty of this city lies in the sea, and also in the south area to a certain extent. There’s Juhu Beach and Marine Drive. Truly, the air of the sea is different, always fresh, always welcome. In this city, where everybody’s life changes in an instant, the sea is the one place that always remains just the same. Ironically, it never lets anything in its reach remain constant. Lines in the sand, footprints, scribblings,they’ll eventually get washed away, erased. Yet, everyday, hundreds throng the beaches, lovers and loners aside, and there are many who sell food or click photos for those looking to preserve memories.. Yup, if there’s an opportunity to make cash, nobody lets go of it, not in India’s NYC.

This city never sleeps. The days are crowded, and at night, there’s always someone outside, there’s always the lone street vendor, the barking dogs. You’re never alone. This isn’t a Utopia either, but I have no view regarding the darker side, and hopefully I never will. All coins have another side. However to walk the streets in the evening, with music filling your ears, and to observe the different people throng the streets, each with a different goal….there’s always a new observation. You always see the mothers waiting for their kids’ school buses. There are always hawkers and bargainers. There’s always a group of old men huddled together around a tea stall,exchanging stories of the past, and their views of the ineffective youth.

One of the biggest feelings you experience is that of the city itself. It feels as if Mumbai’s the silent observer, always watching the lives of every citizen, watching every struggle,satisfaction,joy,strife and rage. New buildings rise every day, more people set foot into this city, but Mumbai always watches, but never utters a word. It’s got eyes everywhere. It sees the little parts that make life what it is. Mumbai sees those chance meetings I talked about earlier, but never comments. Usually if we notice a coincidence, we show some emotion like surprise or angst. But never Mumbai. It shows no emotion, it helps not the weary. It’s just there.

You may wonder after reading all this that why do i love Mumbai. Truth is I don’t have an answer. You ask any Mumbaikar, you’ll never get a proper answer. They may say that they love the fast paced life of Mumbai, or that they love the malls and comforts.. Fact is, none of these answers are satisfactory. None of them is true. Truth is nobody knows why. They just love Mumbai. I know I love Mumbai. I feel the city’s presence on the inside. I feel its gaze, its non-judgemental face. I feel it look at all of us despite knowing everything and still be expressionless. I see the people go through each day without much purpose, but I see in them the desire to find one. This city has a lot of the poor, but they too, in most cases, live in contentment. People may be indifferent to each other, but there’s always those little things that connect us all, and I’ve never seen it anywhere else but here. There’s a place for everybody,everybody’s welcome, and everybody has a chance to reach their dreams. You’re never truly alone here, you always feel the city’s gaze. You can just go to the south part,walk the Marine Drive, hang out. If you have a bad day, just put on some music, enjoy the stomach numbing street food as you gaze at the multitude of people away from their homes, engulfed in their present tasks and lives., as you feel the never-ending gaze of the city. Mumbai’s bigger than the TAJ or The Gateway of India, and Mumbai has proven its integrity before. Aamchi Mumbai indeed.

- Achyuth Sankar

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City Lights of Mumbai, Delhi and Madras (Article)

2011-01-26T18:11:00.004+05:30

City Lights

This article was shared by Srikant Rajan

Each city has its pulse, a feel, which is distinct from others. Staying in a place for small times like a tourist and moving around, that feel, that essence hits you hard each time. It is akin to the human sense of smell; sharp, pronounced and short lived. Many times you would have walked into a room only to be greeted by the smell of warm Sulphide (Ye Ignoramus ....somebody obviously shat!!), whilst others are blissfully unaware.

You walk into Delhi airport or even NDLS you see Mr. Ego.

Like the golden halo on the heads of saints, Delhi has its ego, as an alternative identity, an aura around its people. “Mine is bigger than yours” sentiment is Delhi’s patent right (I am not talking about cell phones here; I am talking about just everything else other than that!). It is the place where people get cars to a gym barely two minutes walk away , because you know it isn’t about the gym or working out, it is about the fact that I have a car and I can afford an AC gym. I have it then I flaunt it, well, good and understandable but Delhi says I will flaunt it even if I don’t have it.

There is a permanent scowl on the face, and fuses are always near the burning point. At Delhi people gossip around, with intent to dissect the hurt, the sorrow. They are more interested in knowing the sadness that engulfs the others, with some kind of a weary hope that it may be more than what one has, that is it may be minuscule as compared to the giant demons he is accustomed to.

This contrast is very pronounced if you enter Delhi from Chennai or the land of the madrasis.

Politeness here is what sets people apart and I guess this word isn’t in any Delhites dictionary. Deference and simplicity, again opposites of ego are much visible in the Manhattan of India.

A hardcore Funjabi, who has been holed in Chennai for nearly two years calls me up and all he wanted was to abuse to his heart’s content.” Rajan, I can’t use these words here man(abuses), it is just not possible. Somebody nicked my car yesterday and even before I could use any nice terms, the uncle steeped out and said a guileless sorry. I just couldn’t do anything after that, I tried a gruff expression but my heart was not in it, I also smiled and waved him away”.

Coming now to Mumbai.The pulse of Mumbai isn’t its resilience, or its ‘spirit’ as is often depicted. Nor is it the multitudes that throng the local trains governed by the subtle laws of human compression that allow for effective transportation.

It is the indifference that sets this place apart. At Delhi people are interested in your sorrow, Chennai people are guileless, but Mumbai people …….don’t give a damm.

The best example that I can see, is the one that is applicable in many settings, sexism.

Mumbai has good females, which when walk by automatically exercise your eyeballs even if it’s for a fraction of a second. Alas, this sentiment is not visible in people here. Maybe it’s the problem of plenty, or maybe it’s my inherent nymphomaniacism, but I suspect it is more to do with the running around which mumbaikers are accustomed to that has dulled their senses.

I was meeting a friend in for dinner, at some stop near Andheri. The first thing that you notice is the nature of the market place. All shops are adorned, bedecked and doing roaring business, the only hitch being that it was close to 11 in the night.

" Boy, the festive season sure is catching up " , I remarked.

" What festive season, this place is always like this, till about 12 in the night " , came the weary reply of my friend.

You are open till 12 in the night and you start by morning again there is no time at all, no time to gossip, no time to loiter and certainly none to stare. Senses are not heightened, nor are they extinct they are just dulled. You nicked my car I don’t have time to sit and fight with you (Delhi), nor apologize to you (Chennai), I just run, and I run fast, mentally booking a slot the weekend to do the repairs.

It’s funny how you think about this gyaan.It stuck me during the return trip from Dadar, when I was squashed in a corner, and staring at the stained, sign on the carriage which said “To seat ; -84”.Thankfully our Indian engineers while designing the carriage had incorporated a decent Factor of Safety !

To wrap up...these are all just nuances, nothing is good or bad. It is the differences that make travel enjoyable and it is the differences that characterize us...unite us.

PS – As I was typing this away my sister glanced by and said” If you use the filters of regionalism to divide, then Mr Genius, what are you ........a Delhi brat............ a Madrasi champu or.......... a Mumbai dude…??? “.It got me thinking and before I could respond then she remarked rather thoughtfully” You are nothing, not even a hybrid………..you are just weird but ……..nicely weird” However, sometimes this is suffocating; you need some invectives in daily life, to make it more interesting more let’s say alive.

- Srikant Rajan

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The Statue (Story)

2011-01-24T15:29:00.003+05:30

The Statue

This story was shared by Achyuth Sankar

"What comes easily is never respected".......

The sculptor walked onto the sand with just a bag containing a chisel and a hammer. There was a magnificent rock,the size of a young lad. The sculptor could smell the beach,but he had no time to experience the soothing smell. He was going to give life to that piece of stone, and nothing was going to disturb him. He couldn't hear the faint knock-knock sound coming from a little far away. To him, the stone was everything.

The sculptor began his task. He began slowly, starting with the eyes. He made them big and expressive, almost life-like. The eyebrows were shaped like the thatched roofs of mansions, an almost perfectly inverted V. The nose was sharp and long, with big nostrils. It took the sculptor four hours to get this much done, but he was as patient as a loving mother would be to her baby. Nothing disturbed him, not the birds, not the crashing of the waves, not the knocking noise from afar. The sun began it's descent, and a small shadow began forming at the base of the stone. Like all else, the sculptor took no heed of this. He went back home right after he finished the nose.

He came back early next morning. He was determined to finish the statue. He worked on the hair,long and thick hair. He then went on to finish the legs with great detail. He worked on the toes, then the ankle, and then the knees. By the time he had reached the waist, it was afternoon, the sun was right at the top. Strangely though, the shadow which was once at the statue's base had now reached up to its thighs. The sculptor hadn't seen it though. He sat down for a small lunch of fruits. As he sat on the sand to peel off the skin of the orange, a child came by selling balloons. The sculptor took pity on the frail waif. He called the child over. The child, seeing a potential customer, eagerly rushed forward. The sculptor peeled his first orange and gave it to the child. To her hungry stomach, food was as good as a sold balloon. The child and the sculptor sat and ate the fruits together in savoured silence, as the sun began its descent once again, and the shadow, its ascent. They finished the food, and the sculptor began picking up the peels and putting them in his bag, as the child got up with her balloon bag. Before leaving, the child gave a grateful smile and began walking away. Before disappearing into the horizon the child yelled, "That's a beautiful boy". The sculptor could hear the faint sound of the child. He smiled, but he still couldn't hear the knock-knock sound in the distance. The shadow, by then, had touched the statue's chest.

The sculptor finished the hands. He gave immense detail to the palm and the fingers. He worked on the shoulders, reasonably broad, then the chest. He etched a shirt and a pair of shorts, and the statue was given the finishing touch of thick lips that curved into a slight smile. The statue was finished, but fate had plans of its own.

The sculptor took a look at his statue. It was marvellous, resonating innocence and nobility. But something was off. There was no knock-knock sound, only the waves disturbed the eerie tranquillity. The statue looked really dark. The sculptor's gaze reached its base, and he caught sight of the shadow trailing away into the distance. The shadow had completely darkened the statue. The sculptor sat down, waiting for the sun to move so that the shadow's cloak would be lifted, and the true beauty of his work could be marvelled at. The shadow didn't move, and neither did the sun. They both stayed their ground. The sculptor got up and decided the trace the origin of the shadow. He walked a long way, determined to find the Colossus that overshadowed an innocent child's image. He finally reached his destination, and the sight that beheld him took his breath away. There was a statue, slightly bigger than his own. It depicted a boy and a girl facing the horizon, holding hands. There was genuine love on their faces, and the skill of its creator was so great that even the tenderness with which they held each other's hands was visible. The sculptor stood in front of this work of art. He saw the joy radiate from their faces, as the innocence of youthful love danced in their eyes. The girl was stunning, the boy was average looking, but both were perfect for each other. The sculptor noticed a hammer and a chisel kept at the base of this statue. The sculptor picked them up to examine them. They looked brand new, no wear and tear. It seemed impossible, miraculous. He waited there for a whole hour, hoping to see the great man who performed this impossible feat. No one came. The sculptor took this special hammer and chisel, with the hope that he could also imbibe life into his statue, and give it the same royalty that this statue had. He could see no way of making his statue any better. He then realized, it was what the statue lacked- a companion. The sculptor set out to find a stone of considerable size and quality. But every stone he came across was either too small or large, or too weak to handle the strain of the chisel. He gave up. He made one final change to the boy's face. He gave it an expression of sorrowful expectation, the one of a man lost in this world, without a companion\, and he made the boy look like he has fallen on his knees, begging escape. The sculptor left the miraculous hammer and chisel at the base of his own statue. He packed his things, and set off at a slow pace. If only he could somehow make the world see his love for that statue, it would outshine the love between any boy and girl. Before leaving the beach behind, he turned around and gave one last look. The sun still stayed where it was, the shadow ever imposing, his statue all alone. The sculptor walked away with resignation.

Every day, the sculptor would look at his statue from the distance. Nobody stopped by to see it. Who would want to see an over-shadowed statue that doesn't have everything? After all, joy was just round the corner. The sculptor secretly hoped that someone would find the appropriate stone and use the miraculous hammer and chisel to give light to his darkened statue, a companion. Every time he gazed from the distance, he could hear the waves crashing, and he felt they were weeping in agony, seeing such neglect. The one person who had once appreciated the beauty of his statue, the balloon selling child, would walk past it every day, but even she forgot about it. Despite himself, he looked at it from far away every single morning. Despite himself, he gave himself the idea that nature would show mercy and erase the down-casting shadow. Despite himself, he hoped.

- Achyuth Sankar

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My Girl... (Poetry)

2011-01-23T19:08:00.002+05:30

MY GIRL...

This poem was shared by Aman Tibrewal...

I've lost what all I knew,

You've lost what all you knew,

The only thing we both know,

Is that I Love you...

I don't know what happens to me,

When I look into your eyes,

I don't know what happens,

When I look at your Smile...

In your eyes resides a world unknown,

Which I would love to explore,

A world where there's no fright,

But only happiness and delight...

You are one among the few,

For whom I'm ready to cry,

You are one among the few,

For whom I'm ready to die...

You are very important for me,

Because your existence is my life,

You are very important for me,

Because I Love you with my life...

- Aman Tibrewal

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Soul Curry 2 (Diary of an Indian Girl in France)

2011-01-21T20:31:00.005+05:30

This article was shared by Hetvi Vora...

This article belongs to a series called "Soul Curry"...
This being the second one... The first part can be read here - Soul Curry 1

Into my fourth month now, I can safely say that preconceived notions and “the history” of a country play a huge role in its present! Getting straight to the point, I am going to write all about how I, a 16 year old (confused, complicated and crazy) girl sees one of the world’s most stylish and snobbish people (there are other adjectives which we shall get into later!) “The French”! There are three things the French love: clothes, food and the third is something you should understand!

For a Bombay girl (like me) to end up in a small European town is a bit too much of a change… I love people even in a Bombay local train or on the street! I am kind of a people person … (at least that’s what I think). Moving on, below are my conclusion on young French girls and boys (not that I am too old but that’s how you write I guess!)

         Clothes (dressing): School here is super long. About 9-10 hours a day! The French are always à la mode (in style). The girls always are well dressed from their hair to their toe nail…it’s all well done! Guessing how lazy I am I basically don’t bother doing all of it! At least not at 6.30 in the morning… I just skip it... although I have had my days but let’s not get in to that… I am in no doubt that France is home to most of the world’s best couturiers, the women here have money and are not afraid to experiment! (As far as I am concerned, these things are just for you to flip through magazines and dream about). Although when in Paris (yes, yes I saw the Eiffel tower) there were only Japanese in the big stores. (Still wondering why?). But the French do love to look their best and I think there is nothing wrong in it! Can’t say if they are too materialistic or it’s just their culture! (I am obsessed with Chanel, just thought I should mention I LOVE CHANEL!!!)

·         Food: Everything you cannot imagine eating is a delicacy here! Right from rabbits to snails is devoured with a lot of élan here! I am a vegan and life becomes difficult just right about here! French food is simple and It is full of natural flavors and ingredients! France is a land of more than 300 different types of cheese, imagine the number of cows! I have lost count of the different types I ate but must admit I relished all of them. French are very well mannered and I struggle every day with my knife and fork. Although I must admit that I am a filthy and messy person but I am slowly getting the whole knife and fork procedures. Many knifes and many forks for different courses (sometimes I can’t help but feel pity for the poor dishwasher)

·         People: French people are nice to you only once they know you, not like us Indians who welcome and love everybody! French people are complicated and have opinions on each and everything (which I think is a good thing SOMETIMES). They judge you externally like how you dress, talk and walk and also being polite is super important. You just cannot forget your merci’s and s’il vous plait’s! They do not hesitate to express themselves! Example, my classmates missed 2 days at school because they were on the streets protesting for pension reforms which basically has nothing to do with them(last time I checked pensions and retirement was for older people) nonetheless, they were out on the streets! The teenagers are similar but expressive and a bit ahead about basically everything (note: bit here means way way ahead.) The French love their wines and are proud of it! I am proud of them too! Super invention. The French are nice people just a bit too perfect!

I have to mention Marie Churin, who is insisting that I should tell the world that the French men are hot and super classy! (Note: She has a mind blowing English accent!)

- Hetvi Vora

Part 1 of the article can be read here - Soul Curry 1

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The Crazy World Of Relationships... (Article)

2011-01-17T20:41:00.002+05:30

Often we fall or rather it seems like we have fallen in love and we enter into a relationship. They are so interesting and when we think about some of its aspects, certain questions pop in our mind to which we have strange answers but never the true one… Let’s have a look at some of them…

(I have written it in first person form but it holds true for everyone, be it a guy or a girl)

Before it all begun, I used to sit and wonder…

1. Do I know her?

Answer: NO!

2. Is She attractive?

Answer: NO!

3. Is She worth loving?

Answer: NO!

4. Is She different or special in some way?

Answer: CERTAINLY NO!

5. Well so many No’s yet, YET I FELL FOR HER? HOW?
Answer: Maybe I had become mentally unstable for a while and that’s why I fell for her.

Seems like a stupid answer but that’s the only answer I have for it.

6. Let’s leave that for a while… How did it all begun?

I don’t really remember… nor does she so doesn’t matter. Let’s say it all started off with an infatuation.

7. When did I really start loving her?

Answer: Neither do I know nor does she but both of us will always point at some incident and claim that it all begun then whenever this topic came up. Doesn’t matter because at end of the day what’s special is that we love each other and not when we actually started…

8. So how has it been so far?

Answer: Depends on the mood!

Didn’t really get me? Well I shall explain.

a) Scenario is - She is next to me and we are alone!

So the answer to the question goes like - So far everything seems so special and great. It’s just so special having her next to me. I wish it can go on forever. I just love her so much and she loves me back too though I love her more than she loves me. But yes we both love each other “so so so much”.

b) Scenario is – Nice conversation on phone or through text messages is on.

So the answer to the question goes like – So far everything looks good. I wish we can be together for long. We both love each other.

The above two scenarios are the happy ones yet notice the difference. The same relationship was great and special in scenario (a) but just good in scenario (b).

Being together “forever” becomes being together for “long”. We both love each other “so so so much” becomes just We both love each other. Mind you, the relationship is still the same!

c) Scenario is - There haven’t been much conversations and a fight just took place.

So the answer to the question goes - why am I stuck with her? God! Because of her I missed that girl and even that girl. Now they all are gone and its all because of her. I love her but she does not love me back. Now I will do tit for tat. I too will stop loving her!

Same relationship but three different scenarios and answers change so much! How funny these relationships are!

So what is the final answer overall?

Well I guess it goes this way – So far it has been just heavenly. It’s filled with love, fights, laughter, crying and every essence of human emotion. We have had our ups and downs but on the whole despite everything, the relationship still survives.

9. So how do these relationships survive despite some huge fights and issues?

Answer: simple, the one who commits the mistake is forgiven by the partner. But why does the partner forgives the other despite he/she felt hurt and betrayed by his/her actions?

I will tell the main reason later but let’s have a look at what the guy or the girl thinks after forgiving the other.

a) the boy thinks – she’s lucky that she has me. Had it been any other guy, he would have made her pay back for her deeds and completely ruined her. But I am so caring and loving that I prefer to show some pity. She should consider herself absolutely lucky that she has me.

b) the girl thinks – only I could have forgiven him. Had it been any other girl, she would have slapped him and left him forever. Its only me whose still sticking with this relationship. He should consider himself lucky that he has ME!

Well, all this is said to satisfy our egos. The main reason is – Both needed each other’s companionship. Perhaps it is the faith in each other. Faith in every “I love you” we say to each other. And above all the hope that no matter what happens, we both shall always be together…

And so the time passes by and I am just so lost in her and I again sit and wonder…

1. Do I know her?

Answer: YES!

2. Is She attractive?

Answer: YES!

3. Is She worth loving?

Answer: YES!

4. Is She different or special in some way?

Answer: CERTAINLY YES!

- theyouthworld.com

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Area 7 by Matthew Reilley (Book Review)

2011-01-15T19:59:00.001+05:30

This article was shared by Aman Deshmukh

“Super fast and thrilling enough to chill your spine and shock your wits to the very core.”

Believe me, nothing can make you put down this book once you’ve started it and crossed the 100 page-mark. And for a book thats a heavy 572 pages long, coupled with small black font – to make the reader go on and on is a great achievement.

The idea behind the book is simple. A section of the American Military (the Air Force primarily), spearheaded by Caesar Russel, has secretly revolted against the US Presidency. And with help of a few traitor doctors of the White House, Russel manages to get a transmitter implanted onto the wall of the heart of the President in a general health operation. Fourteen mega destruction bombs have been placed in metropolitan areas – bombs of such capacity that they may entirely scar 1/3rd of the U.S.A. These bombs transmit a signal to a satellite in the sky, which sends it to the transmitter in the President’s heart. As long as the heart of the President beats, the transmitter responds to the signal from the satellite. Bottom Line – the bombs can only be stopped from detonating as long as the President’s heart works – as long as he is alive. So where does Area 7 come into the picture? Area 7 is a secret military base of the U.S.A, in the Utah Desert controlled by the American Air Force. The drama begins when the President arrives at Area7 on a routine visit. Soon after his entry into the base, Russel shuts down the base – seals it off completely, and makes a declaration – a warning to the President about what is in store for him – that the President can no longer go out and escape, that he is trapped in an air base with military forces wanting to kill him, and that he must save his heart, keep himself alive, if he wants U.S.A to exist and not perish under the detonation of 14 mega power bombs. Of course, there’s the President’s secret service detail that goes around with him and a group of faithful marines – the only hope for the President to keep himself alive. Amongst these marines, is our hero – Schofield (codenamed SCARECROW). Following that, is an epic story all about a race against time, a race for survival, and a race to save America from perishing.

But this is just the basic idea. There’s more to the story than you think (don’t worry I won’t leak out the whole plot now!). There’s a highly advanced vaccine, an international conspiracy, a racist setup, a 10 year old boy, high speed boat chases, a space ship invasion in the middle of the fight and a lot of high octane drama – packed with shooting, shocking, spiraling twists and turns that make you sit on the edge of your seat and shock you to your bloody wits. The writing is simple, crisp and ‘unbelievably pacy’, as the Daily Mirror calls it, and there’s a new thrilling shocker to chill your bone at the turn of every single page.
Must read, I say. Pick up a copy today (I don’t know how much it costs, since I picked up one randomly from a second hand book shop!)

-Aman Deshmukh

The author of the above article is a talented photographer as well. His photography work can be viewed on Aman Deshmukh Photography

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Nature – The Greatest Source of Calm…(Article)

2011-01-14T18:38:00.001+05:30

This article was shared by Aman Deshmukh

I am lying on my building’s terrace, my eyes closed, my lungs breathing in the cool breeze and my body, in a state of total relaxation. Sometimes, however much pressure you have- of problems that you are facing and might face, relaxation and peace still presides in your body. And this only happens when you, and most importantly, your soul, is close to the divine power – Nature.

The Sky, I see, seems limitless. A black blanket speckled with white glittering lights…the most accessible and amazing view of Nature at its best…

However this vast Sky does remind me of how much happier life is when you are close to Nature.

Humans are a vital part of Nature, Nature is special to them and so are they, to Nature.

Standing on the edge of a cliff and breathing the fresh wind blowing on your face, standing in rain, with your eyes closed and mind blank…all these are ways which bring man and Nature close. And it is because of Nature that man introspects, thinks where he has gone wrong, where he could have and where he might, where he must stop and where he must initiate. Nature is probably the only power in the world that cannot be seen, touched or tasted, yet has the most everlasting effect of all.

Nature itself speaks of its selfless nature.

The fresh air, the pouring rain, the swaying trees, the bright Sun, the soothing Moon, the firm rock and the soft mud…these are sensations that bring about a unimaginable sense of calm and rejuvenate our bodies, and recharge our minds.

Life is a celebration and Nature is the way to enjoy it…

So lets celebrate Nature, and breathe in joy…!

-Aman Deshmukh

The author of the above article is a talented photographer as well. His photography work can be viewed on -

Aman Deshmukh Photography

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Custom Chucks... (Designs on Canvas Shoes)

2011-01-12T18:03:00.003+05:30

Custom Chucks

The following designs on Canvas Shoes were shared by

Mazhar Bagasrawala

-Mazhar Bagasrawala

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DBZ...(Paintings)

2011-01-12T17:58:00.003+05:30

Dragon Ball Z

The paintings were shared by Mazhar Bagasrawala...

CHI-CHI

VEGETA

TRUNK

GOKU

-Mazhar Bagasrawala

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Dawn Of Craziness (Article)

2011-01-11T17:54:00.005+05:30

Dawn Of Craziness

This article was shared by Namit Nadkarni.

The belltower rang twice in the smeary night. I was home alone. Contemplating on what the cause of my unrest was, I sat awake on my bed, not being able to come up with a suitable answer for over the past couple of hours. The arms of sleep pulled me back into the sea of blankets, but my mind resisted the surge of slumber. Looking out the window I could see a tree, about seven yards away from my sill, rustling in the pleasant cold wind of the night. The moon was partly hidden by clouds and the world beyond my window was like a blurry memory of my past, getting darker every second. I know not why i was awake nor why I wasn't asleep, but just the fact that i was conscious was binding on me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a gray cat creep ever so gracefully across the street, twitching as it moved in the cold. As my weary eyes followed the cat, it gently crept over a wall and was hidden out of view. Beside the wall however, I could see a silhouette of a man who was standing there. He was a tall ragged person standing there with a walking stick in his hand. I hadn't noticed him before. My vision, though blurred by sleepiness, could clearly see that the man was watching me intently. He stood there as though motionless looking in my direction. I was petrified and could not help but stare back. After a while, I could faintly see him toothing a ghastly smile. I moved away from the window and hid behind the curtains, peeking every now and then to see if he was still there. He hadn't budged an inch. He kept looking at me as though he longed for something. Scared by the haunting presence of the creepy man, I slithered into my blankets and lay there....

- Namit Nadkarni

His other articles and his blog can be viewed at I choose not to name this blog...

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Soul Curry(The Diary of an Indian Girl in France)

2011-01-07T20:54:00.007+05:30

This article was shared by Hetvi Vora

I am an exchange student from India. Je suis un échange étudiant de l’inde! a line i do not know how many times have i repeated! Kind of lost count ...

One fine Wednesday and a realisation dawns upon me! I realise the fact that i haven’t written back home since a long time ...so here i begin.....
"I am an ex CHANGE student”! Emphasis being on the fact that everything had changed.....right from the food i eat to the bed i sleep on to the language i speak ...clothes i wear ...the view outside my window ...things which were obviously going to change but sometimes the change is so natural that you don’t feel it at all and sometimes it’s so different that it takes days to get used to....
i guess that’s what the best part is " i am a new me “!

The older me didn’t have coffee after meals, the older me banged in to people every now and then , the older me was impulsive and hyperactive , the older me slept late , read newspapers for hours... was glued to the TV !
I guess like all 16 years old in a new country (not English speaking) i have had my crazy, embarrassing, silly, happy, nervous moments!
I guess i have experienced all the human emotions in these 2 months and 15 days!

My first day at school seemed like my first day at school back in 1st grade ...though i think we can cut out on the crying part!
It’s so much fun when i am finding similarities between the two countries and suddenly how amazed i am when i realised that they are so different! The first month passes in a jiffy! It’s all going fast ...you meet new people every day ...you have to be yourself and be a perfect ambassador breaking myths and clearing misconceptions!
You meet exchange students from all over the world! Some countries that i only studied way back in my geography lessons! Surprising how similar all of us are! We have the same moments of joy and similar difficulties!
I now can proudly boast of the fact that i can greet people in 7 international languages!

My city is called mayenne .it is located in the west of France! It is small, ancient and you can kind of walk around it...really tiny! Everybody knows everybody and i am officially "the little Indian mayennais”!

I realise that being an exchange student is a big responsibility ....the person i will be in this city is the person the people here are always going to relate Indians with! The beauty of this is that i am much more Indian here then i was back in home! You value things better when away from home i think...

i have been lucky to have extremely wonderful host parents ,both active Rotarians and both striving to make the world a better place!
My host mother runs the "banque alimentaire “and" épicerie sociale”, an organisation which provides food at minimal rates to poor people... the transparency and efficiency is remarkable in non-profit organisations here. Both these organisations are government aided!

My host father on the other hand, recently visited Madagascar for two weeks with grammar books and mobile phones since Madagascar speaks French! every year" the rotary club of mayenne" and "the rotary club of Nosy be" work towards helping the villagers in Madagascar and developing a school in a village close to nosy be
the rotary club of mayenne has about 25 odd members and is a small family of people who believe in the idea of service above self !

I think i have been fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to be a" Rotary Youth EXCHANGE Student” and fortunate enough to be living a change!

This article is a part of a series called "Soul Curry"

Its second part can be read on Soul Curry 2

-Hetvi Vora

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They Fought Against All (Story)

2011-01-05T20:38:00.002+05:30

They Fought Against All

She stood by the window, for hours and hours now, looking back at the war, her family and her childhood…

She was always rebellious, the one of a kind who always challenged the norms of nature and one who ended up being rewarded unfortunately and sometimes not willingly. Anya Christina Blanc was 11 months old when the NAZI’s invaded Bordeaux. Her parents moved out of Bordeaux as quickly as they could and went back to their ancestral village of St. Emillion. The war was here and there was no way out of it. Anya’s mother was all of 18 when she fell in love and married Jean Paul Blanc, the son of the local butcher. Jean Paul was pampered and loved by all as a result he never grew up. The Blanc’s were a famous family in Bordeaux and their meat was known to be famous throughout the city. Catherine fell in love with Jean Paul when they met in high school and the rest was history!

The onset of the war led to famine, destruction and poverty. Jean Paul Blanc was never used to toiling hard and living in a tiny village. He was so habituated to his luxurious lifestyle that he ended up selling all his and Catherine’s belonging in order to buy some wine and caviar. The inflation during the war and her husband’s frivolous pleasures were way too much for the still young Catherine and her daughter .Catherine ended up working at the local dairy where as her husband was en route to establishing himself as a jobless and useless alcoholic. Jean Paul’s mother soon realized her son’s situation and asked him to come and see her. Back in his old mansion and again loved and pampered, Jean Paul had an affair with Marie Anne Martin who later became his mistress .While Jean Paul enjoyed his comforts and luxuries, Catherine worked 2 shifts to provide for her daughter and herself. She knew jean Paul too well and knew he wouldn’t come back to them. After a few years she received official documents demanding her to divorce her husband Jean Paul Blanc. In those days, divorces weren’t common. This destroyed Catherine completely, she had no one to help her and her family had migrated to the north. Anya was 15 when her mother decided to send her to a school in the west of France. All of 15 and all alone, Anya loved it in there. She was free..!! The first few months Anya did all the things she wasn’t supposed to. She got her self-drunk more often and was active in college politics. She only got herself under control after her first semester results were out and she was asked to go back home. After a lot of coaxing and cajoling by Catherine, the principal let her stay. Catherine was furious and asked her to concentrate. Catherine was suffering from lymphoma and didn’t have the courage to tell anyone. As days passed by, her condition grew worst and she grew weaker. Anya came home from Christmas and realized that it was better if she did not go back. She understood that there was something wrong and that her mother would never tell her. On Catherine’s requests she attended the midnight mass and prayed to Christ for her mother’s health. Catherine pushed the daisies on the morning of the New Year and Anya didn’t cry at all. She left St. Emillion at once and went back to university. There was nothing in Anya’s life that was right at this point of time and being the kind she was, it made things even worse. She protested against everything from food in college to the teaching methods of her professors. She got herself in to trouble and somehow managed to get out of it. Years passed by and she considered herself to be god's most unloved child... The only thing which was in Anya’s favor was the fact that she never did anything which she didn’t believe in. Not loved by the Catholic Church, neither by her family, she was a girl who was not well received nor thought of in the society but that didn’t stop her from doing what she wanted to.

She stood by the window, for hours and hours now, looking back at the war, her family and her childhood…

When she heard “mommy, i think it’s time”, she looked back and replied "hold on Catherine, mommy will be there in 5". (She names her daughter after her mother)
Though not loved by all in the community, ANYA CHRISTINA BLANC turned out to be a successful entrepreneur and an amazing mother who lived life by her own rules and proved to be a successful single mother...

p.s: this is for all who follow and believe in the notions and norms of the society. Judging people is a mistake which we make very easily not even thinking about their history or even without knowing what kind of person they are!

-Hetvi Vora

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South Mumbai Explored (Photography)

2011-01-03T16:49:00.003+05:30

South Mumbai Explored

These photographs were shared by Aman Deshmukh

Photographer's other photos can be viewed at Aman Deshmukh Photography

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The Vegan Life (Article)

2011-01-02T16:38:00.002+05:30

This article was shared by Neha Bharadwaj

So, it’s the “new year week” and resolutions are on the roll. It’s the hot topic between my friends. “So what’s your resolution this year??”

This year my resolution is to turn vegan. So what is “vegan”? well, it is basically following a way of life abstaining from animal products like meat, skin , dairy products etc.

What made me choose this?

Well it all began when I was walking down my lane on a pleasant Saturday morning. Just then I saw men carrying dozen of chickens by their leg into the poultry shop. They cackled in helplessness, with fear and no hope in their eyes. That sight made me feel a sharp kick in my stomach. I walked on the to see some more men carrying mutton flesh splattered with blood. That sight made me feel woozy all over. But, also made me think…”What did that animal do to end on my plate??”

After months of thought, research and trying, I chose 2011 as an year to begin my vegan chapter. My friends found it foolish , my family doubted my will power. But I knew it was not impossible. If maximum PETA members can be vegan, why cant I??

In a report on “how to turn vegan” the first step was to look the animal in the eye, and trust me this may sound absurd but one look at that animal and you may never want to eat it.

“Animals are friends and I do not eat friends.” What about you??

- Neha Bharadwaj

The author of the article is a passionate artist and her paintings can be viewed at A Splash Of Colours

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Why should one blog...(Article)

2011-01-01T19:40:00.007+05:30

Reasons why one should blog…

This article was shared by Akshat Singhal

Blogging is not new but for many of us, it’s something that we have always heard about but never cared to try it out.

Well, one fine day I tried my hand at it and trust me guys, I am in love with blogging…

I wonder why it is so and I was successful enough to list the following things out…

1. It gives you the feeling of owning your own website without knowing any of that technical stuff which is absolutely Greek to 99% of the people on this earth. You definitely don’t have all the features of a website but you have the basic at least and that’s good enough for all the beginners like us…

2.Life never really gives all of us a chance to decide everything in any field. Well your blog is your baby. Do what you feel like with it and you decide every aspect of it. In short, you have at least one place where you call all the shots!

3.“Sharing is caring”… a proverb taught to us when we were small kids but is very significant when it comes to blogging. Wonder why?

You can share your knowledge

You can share your talent

You can share your life experiences

You can share your jokes

You can share your happiness as well as your sadness

In short you share everything

So how does it really help besides mere sharing? Well your knowledge or experience can bring about a change in someone’s life and what can be better than this? If not that then at least there is someone listening to you out there. Of course only if you have readers.

4.Prevents rusting of your valuable brain. Often we don’t effectively use our brains and that causes “rusting” of our brains! So how does blogging helps in this?

You need to think a lot before writing down anything out there on the blog because at the end of the day, it’s open to the entire world to read!

You don’t really make a blog for only yourself or at the most your friends to read. You need to get in more readers and that requires serious, very serious working. You need to market your blog practically! So you roll up your sleeves and let your brain do the rest to make your blog popular. Again effective utilisation of your brain.

Getting readers is one thing but making them come back again and again is a more serious job than getting the readers. And how do you do that? Well here you make your brain running and so again effective utilisation of your brains.

Finally if you try to earn an income out of your blog, comes the task of how you go about it and if you choose an advertising agency then which one is the best because there are so many? It’s again a tough call…

5.Well after working really hard with your blog, our tired brain needs some rest and in today’s materialistic world, luxury is the best way out for this and how do we get all those luxuries?? Simple enough! Money gets them all! Yes make money outta your blog because you deserve it. Advertising, sponsorship, donations, product selling etc. there are many ways to rake in the money and enjoy life!!!

As of now I just thought of these five primary reasons. At the end of the day, everyone has their personal reasons for blogging…

- Akshat Singhal

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Tees Maar Khan (Movie Review)

2010-12-28T17:08:00.003+05:30

TEES MAAR KHAN

This Review was shared by Neha Bharadwaj

Tees Mar Khan..or Tees Maar Kha??

So I guess you have seen all those hoardings around the city with Akshay Kumar and sexy Katrina. The ad promos look funky but trust me that’s where the fun quotient ends. You don’t believe me… do you?

Well I wouldn’t have if I had not spent those 120 bucks to find out the truth.

With Shiela Ki Jawani blaring on every speaker radio and party this movie has created a hype between us but fails to keep up that reputation in the theatre. If you are looking for a story, I suggest you not to waste your energy because there is no story. Just a series of events compiled and titled.

Yes, the music that is Shiela ki Jawani and the title track are catchy and good but that’s where the goodness ends.

Katrina’s role is the best only in the song after which she is quite intolerable. She plays the role of a wanna be actress very well. The excessive melodrama is humorous in the start, but then drives one crazy towards the end.

Akshay Kumar’s acting? Well, I wouldn’t waste my time writing about because it was pathetic. I wonder what the actor is up to these days when it comes to movie selection!!

Akshay Khanna was the only actor who lived up to some level with good acting while the rest of the actors majorly let us down.

Direction was again pathetic… The movie lacked flow and it seemed several scenes were just senselessly compiled and thrown at the viewers.

So the verdict?

It’s not worth a watch, trust me and save your money. Even if you are bored to death, stay at home and sleep rather than giving this movie a watch.

You will thank me.

-Neha Bharadwaj

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A Wake Up Call... (Article)

2010-12-20T15:18:00.005+05:30

A Wake Up Call

This article was shared by Hetvi Vora

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does"

The recent past has changed the way I look at things, the way I think and the way I feel. Let me get to the point, people around the world have pre conceived notions about each and every country and its people thanks to the travel and living shows you have these days.

As far as I am concerned, I have always looked at the brighter side of things. But lately, I have realized that I have been ignoring reality. The reality being that INDIA is a developing country and we are a bit behind the rest of the world. As much as we love to boast about the Tata’s, Ambani’s and Birla’s, we have to accept the fact that there are many people who do not have the luxury of three proper meals a day. It is easy to talk about poverty and poor people but experiencing it is completely different. You just don’t have to starve yourself for a day but at night you will feel helpless and that’s what half the nation goes through day in and day out.

The problem I have is there is a part of us who enjoy the luxuries and have their “Antillas*” made but only look at the others just before its time to pay the taxes .With the amount of wealth flowing in and exposure, we have got to realise that if there isn’t a balance in the society we will all end up facing a lot of problems in the future.

My intention of writing this piece is to get all of us “young people” out of their materialistic world and break this whole idea of “being useless”. It is quite simple; you do things for people who don’t have as much money or privileges we have been blessed with. The country does not need money, it needs you! It needs money in the form of people who are educated and are trustworthy. We all have been so busy lately about making it big that we forget that there are others who aren’t as lucky as we have been.

I am not some want-to-be philosopher or politician. I just think that it is important to help and respect people. Indians are God fearing people but we do forget that God himself symbolises equality and justice.

Being young, we have age in our hands and a dream to live ,a dream where in we all have a right to the same things that a person living in an “antilla” or a slum has...

It is time we give back to society, make a difference in the smallest possible way we can. Let us show that we belong to the BIGGEST and the GREATEST democracy of the world!

Antilla*: is Mukesh Ambani’s home supposed to be the most expensive house ever in the world!

P.s: I am not residing at the moment in India, so I think that is one of the reasons I am writing the piece!

-Hetvi Vora

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Faith. Hope and Trust (Story)

2010-12-18T18:47:00.004+05:30

Faith Hope And Trust

This article was shared by Hetvi Vora

The phone rings at the local reliance energy help line number. The man in his mid 40s answers the call in a typical north Indian accent. The man on the line was a small time provision store owner from a suburb in Bombay.

He said “sir ji since the past 2-3 days there has been no street lights in our locality my kerosene bulb is the only source of light on the street sir. Please do the needful sir ji”. The man ensured him that his complain has been filed and he will do the needful

India is always considered to be a country of bureaucrats not much has changed since then but definitely there has been improvement. The following day again two cars were on the verge of colliding into one another on the same road. Scared, the shop keeper again quickly dialled the helpline number. On receiving the second call the officer assured him that one of the electricians from their office will do the needful.

Sunil’s life was almost finished the day his parents left him one by one. His father died in his arms to malaria and his mother pushed the daisies a little later the same year though. The young and street smart Sunil now had changed and his purpose of living was lost .Barely 18, Sunil joined his uncle’s small time electric shop to meet his daily needs and to repay the loans he had taken during his father’s illness . Sunil’s uncle although a kind hearted man was a miser! So Madan uncle, as he was fondly called, received a call from reliance energy to repair a chain of street lights which were falling under his area! Madan uncle was in a contract with reliance for a particular zone. Sunil was sent off to repair the street lights.

After having found out the cause for the lights not working and having repaired it, he decided to call Madan uncle. After sighting a small provision store in the vicinity and finding a calling booth in it, he walked towards the store and called Madan uncle.

After speaking to Madan uncle, Sunil searched his pocket for a rupee coin. The shopkeeper who happened to overhear the conversation told Sunil that he was the one who complained for the street lights. Sunil gave him a half smile which was maybe the first time he had smiled after his parents died and he placed a rupee next to the phone . The shopkeeper moved his hand near the phone and finally found the rupee and put it in his pocket.

Sunil realized the fact that the shopkeeper nayan, meaning eyes in Hindi, lacked vision but still followed it up with the authorities so that people would not live in the dark as he did.

Living in the dark in its true meaning was a life lived by Sunil himself.
Sunil thanked nayan and appreciated his vision in its true sense. After the encounter Sunil had with nayan, his life changed as he realized it is or it wasn’t always about living for a few selected people or for that matter for himself. Sunil was a new MAN AND NAYAN WAS A VISIONARY WHO SAW AND CONQUERED IT ALL INSPITE OF HIS LACK OF VISION!!!!!!!

P.S - THE LIGHTS ON THE STREET NEVER WENT OFF BECAUSE NAYAN ALWAYS ILLUMINATED IT WITH HIS VISION…

-Hetvi Vora

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