Fictitious Fables

Excellence & Entertainment

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 31 May 2014 20:22:00 +0000

I was travelling from my college back to my home for my summer vacation. I travelled in a bus- a rickety old bus that was so slow that I could literally watch cycles whiz past us. Bored as I was I looked around to see my neighbor take out his Asus T100.

It was so sleek and wonderful in design that it caught my eye. At first I thought it was a tab but then noticed the guy take out a keyboard from his backpack and attach it in. Pretty cool, huh? A 10 inch tab or a frikking laptop.

He did some official work – or so I thought, because I saw him working on Microsoft Office 2013 on Windows 8.1. On asking him, he replied that the software was in-built and that he got them when he bought the tab-cum-laptop.

He then proceeded to gaming. Amazed at his audacity, I asked him about the battery backup and the processor speed. “11 hours and Intel quad core” he replied with a smug smile.

Intrigued, I proceeded to ask him about the device. After learning that it supported USB 3.0 and had IPS screen with 1366 x 768 resolution, and also supported reading mode which helps in creating lesser stress for the eyes, I decided what I want for my birthday… the Asus Transformer Book T100.

This is fiction written for the Indiblogger contest - Time to Transform.

The Game That Changed Her Life

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 22 Sep 2012 05:55:00 +0000

Image source : here

NightQueen wandered through the plains of Sholazar. She and her allies were looking for some Hyldnir to kill.

Night Queen was a level 79 Blood-elf Mage (spell-caster) along with her allies consisting of hunters (ranged weaponry and beast taming), druids (metamorphosis) and rogues (Stealth and melee). She was on the verge of her last quest to level up and become a fully-fledged level 80 Mage which unlocks a plethora of spells and attacks.

The entire faction followed NightQueen because of her decision making and because of the fact that she could easily kick each of their butts in combat with ease.

NightQueen led her faction into the Brunnhildar Village where the Hyldnirs were found in abundance. As they progressed into the village, as surreptitiously as they can, they spotted a Hyldnir oblivious to their arrival. Quick as she was, NightQueen spotted two others, not far away. But sadly, the same could not be said about other members of her clique.

Before she could communicate with the others, one of them, a druid called BlackHand, whose powers include transformation, quickly altered into a bear and launched an all-out attack on the unwary Hyldnir.

Now, the faction always remained a group and they always had each other’s back. NightQueen didn’t even have to order the others to attack; they were already onto the comparatively huge Hyldnir.

Hyldnirs are basically troll Death Knights that attack through melee. They have the strength to easily decapitate anyone foolish enough to go near them with a mere swish of their maces. Druids have the advantage of transfiguration, due to which they can easily turn into flight forms and continue the attack.

While this attack was mounting, the other two Hyldnirs came to the rescue of this one. NightQueen was afraid of this. She knew she could handle one Hyldnir, but she had her doubts about two.

They fought valiantly, but the emotions each one of them carried were mixed. Some cursed BlackHand, while some thought of retreat. But NightQueen wasn’t one to give up. But after a while of gruesome battle, she knew. She knew that it was a losing battle. They had managed to silence only one of the trolls, whereas she had already lost two of her allies.

Meanwhile Strider was ambling through the Dark Forests of Numengrad. He was trying to get as many factions as possible for his guild to attack the vast army of the Ungrads. He had already won over nine such guilds and was hoping to find some more, as he was in dire need of paladins and healers.

Strider was a level 82 Blood Elf Warlock. His powers included Dark Arts and spell casting to enslave other beasts. He could also summon minions out of thin air and make them do his bidding.

He had already captured two demons and had enough mana to summon an entire army of minions. He usually rode on his mount which was a Dreadsteed (A horse-like animal with horns and fire erupting from its hooves and tail), which gave him more speed.

As he wandered around the forests, looking for factions to join him in his quest, his map showed a red blinking dot, which usually meant an undergoing fight. But this was in the neighbouring village of Brunnhildar. And he did not have his trusted guild members with him either.

He decided to go help whoever it was regardless of his situation. He figured, that even if he lost the battle, he may gain trust in the faction and thus maybe he could make his grand total to a ten.

NightQueen had lost two more from her faction. Now the battle was between three of them and one fully strengthened troll. She too, had thought about retreating and coming back with everyone’s mana and strength replenished, but that would mean accepting defeat, and she was not one to do that. They had managed to slay two of the trolls at the cost of four of her guild mates, and almost exhausting her mana completely. If her mana was empty, she would be useless, for she would be brought down to doing melee attacks only, which was a weakness for her.

The troll swished his mace one more time, to kill one more of her comrades. As if on cue, Strider came into the scene riding magnificently on his Dreadsteed, with an army of his minions, to help the proverbial damsel-in-distress.

The minions and Strider kept the troll busy while she replenished her mana and then joined the fray. Two of her comrades were back after they’d been re-spawned in the Valley of the Dead. And they finally managed to exterminate the troll and thus level up. Strider didn’t take any of the mana or the goods as he didn’t need any. NightQueen thanked him and accepted his offer to join his guild against the unruly Ungrads.

She had observed him tackle the troll and the way he had ordered the minions to go in simultaneous batches, and how he retreated the first batch when they were exhausted, sent in the second batch and so on. She was highly impressed by his tactics and his leadership qualities. The chivalry he portrayed in not accepting any of the goods or the mana helped her in making her decision to join forces with him.

***************************************************************

Meghana walked into the huge DLF building with her briefcase in one hand and her daily morning coffee in the other. This was the daily routine of the MBA graduate from one of the premier B-schools of the country. The receptionist greeted her with a “Good Morning ma’am” to which she nodded and walked to the elevator with an air of superiority that bordered on arrogance. She walked into her office without so much as a “Hello” to her subordinate co-workers.

Meghana was the vice president of her company. A position she prided upon. The only respect she had for anyone in the office was for her superior and the CEO of the company, to who she reported to. Her behaviour to her subordinates notwithstanding, she had immense focus on her career and complete faith in her analytic and strategic manoeuvres as a vice-president.

Priyanka, her assistant, had reached office half an hour prior to her arrival. She went into her boss’ office to get her assignments for the day. Meghana efficiently assigned the tasks looking at her computer not even bothering to give Priyanka as much as a look.

Priyanka nodded as she noted down her assignments and left. She was working on some analytical numbers when she hit a snag. Instead of reporting this, which would result in an embarrassing scene, she decided to call Arup, who apparently had a solution to every problem.

Arup was a thirty-two year old (which incidentally was Meghana’s age) who had to drop out of college due to familial pressures and had to obtain a degree through correspondence, and thus earned a job as an assistant technician in the company. He had to struggle his way up to the senior IT technician position he was currently in.

Arup came into the office and went straight over to Priyanka’s desk, to look over the setback. He realised the problem immediately and set up a proxy IP address, in order to solve it. He smiled at Priyanka and nodded to her appreciation.

As he walked over to go back to his station, he noticed Harish, a software tester playing online scrabble.

“You know, you could add a ‘pre’ to ‘requisite’ and get a triple word” Arup said.

“Huh?!” Harish looked startled.

Arup smiled and winked at Harish and went back to his station to get back to his job.

Soon enough he got another call. This time it was from the boss. Meghana had trouble connecting to the main server and had called Arup. As he went over to her cabin, he smiled at Harish who mouthed “Best of Luck!”

“Umm… Did you type the password correctly, ma’am?” he asked Meghana after listening to her complaint that she couldn’t access the server.

“Of course, I typed the password correctly! How stupid do you think I am?” she retorted angrily at what she thought to be mocking.

“Sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean that. We changed the passwords of the server last night and had sent everyone an email regarding the same. I was just wondering whether you had forgotten…” he looked at her slightly embarrassed but with confidence.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, maybe…” she replied sounding sheepish.

“Is that it, ma’am?”

“Yes that’d be all. You may go now.” She replied curtly.

“It wouldn’t kill you to say ‘thanks’” he muttered to himself on his way out.

***************************************************************

NightQueen and Strider completed many quests before they reached their final destination. In each of the quests, both of them had each other’s backs. Strider was far more advanced, technically and strategically planning each and every move. The respect and adoration NightQueen had had for Strider only increased with each quest. By the end of their journey, she practically revered Strider.

She was taken aback at the size of the clan Strider commanded. There were at least 11 factions, standing ready, awaiting orders. Each faction either as big as or vaster than her own.

Strider rode up to the front and sent out their battle plan. The plan, as expected by NightQueen, was fool proof. Every contingency was meticulously planned out by their remarkable leader. And the way he communicated was such that every single person in every single faction understood their duties. If this couldn’t win them the quest, then nothing could.

Strider commenced the battle by leading from the front, followed by his own faction. The battle went on for hours, where people died, re-spawned and came back and fought again. There were times when Strider had to break his plan and rescue some other people, who would’ve otherwise cost a lot of damage and man-power. Healers needed to be healed, mana was to be supplied, minions were sent to help those whose energies were down, and many more such obstacles to be crossed in order to win this battle against the Ungrads. NightQueen had helped whenever she could, but Strider was written all over the battlefield. He had performed advanced magic and conjured demons to do his bidding, while his minions kept the Ungrads busy.

After hours of fighting, the last Ungrad fell and victory was theirs! Everyone had levelled up and this victory was to go down in the Hall of Fame of the best battles in the virtual world.

**************************************************************

Arup was a bit late showing up to office today. He wondered whether anyone would notice.

Just as he reached his seat, and had logged in, he got a call from the boss. He fumbled on his way up to her office. He noticed Harish pointing to him and slicing his throat with his hands, to indicate that she was going to kill him.

Arup knocked on the door and asked permission to come in, and got it instantaneously.

“You called, ma’am?” he asked, innocently.

“I’ve been calling you since I got here. Where were you?” she asked, with a strong

tone.

“Umm… I’m sorry ma’am I got up late and I…”

“Whatever. Don’t repeat it again.” She said without waiting for an answer. “Why is it that I don’t get my mail when I want it?” she continued.

“What is the problem ma’am?” he asked, confused.

“The problem is, my mail client has decided not to show me my mails anymore” she answered with a gesture that screamed annoyance.

“Oh… may I?” Arup asked pointing to her laptop, asking permission to work on it.

She gave him an inviting gesture, giving him permission.

“Umm… Your hard drive seems to be full ma’am” he said after opening her explorer.

“No, it isn’t. I have around 20 GB of free space. Here look” she said, showing him the free space.

“No ma’am, I meant in your primary hard-drive. The one in which your mail is stored. May I?” he explained and asked permission to open the directory.

“Yeah, go ahead” she replied.

“Oh! It’s mainly because of this game! It is a huge game, but a good one at that!” he said, concealing a smile.

“Hmm… You play? What are you, a level 10 dwarf?” she chuckled at her own joke.

“No ma’am, I’m a level 82 warlock” he replied, this time not bothering to camouflage his smile.

She looked at him as though lightning had struck her.

But it can’t be! Strider is so much cleverer and wilier. Arup can’t be Strider. Can he? Strider has to be someone far better than this guy! He’s an IT technician for crying out loud!

“And what quest did you complete recently?” she asked, half expecting an answer that would confirm her notion.

“Well, I and my clan just defeated the Ungrads to go into the Hall of fame!” he replied as his face lit up with jubilation.

But how could he? I always thought…

“Ma’am?”

“Yeah” she replied with a jolt, as she was disturbed from her line of thought.

“I asked, what character do you play?” he repeated his question, a bit apprehensively.

“I’m Nigh… umm… It’s none of your business” she replied sounding a bit shaken but aggressive.

Awkward silence followed, as both of them contemplated over the recent turn of events.

“Right… umm… I’ve downloaded and installed this software” Arup said returning to reality first, “All you have to do is run it and it will clean up some free space.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll… umm… I’ll do that” Meghana replied, seeming flustered.

“Is that all, ma’am?” he asked.

“Yes that’s all, Arup” she replied.

As he turned to leave, she called him back.

“Umm… Arup… thank you!” she said and Arup felt like she really meant it which left him flabbergasted.

He tried to smile through his bewilderment which resulted in a weird facial expression that made him look as if he was constipated.

He closed the door behind him and stood on the doorway, thinking about what just happened. Unable to make any sense out it, “Women and their god-damned mood swings!” he chuckled to himself as he set out to his desk.

This post is written as part of IndiFiction Writing Workshop based on the plot given by The Fool.

The Sniper

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 05 May 2012 15:57:00 +0000

Image Courtesy : here

As the sniper sniped,

Through his scope, he watched

As his victim, the sergeant, gave his orders

In order to conquer borders.

He watched him drink,

He watched him pace.

A smirk on the sniper’s face,

As he watched him, without stealing a blink.

As he prepared to take aim,

On his enemy, his game,

He put his finger on the trigger

His eye only on the sergeant’s figure.

In the act, he took pride

Onto the trigger his finger did slide,

A blinding flash of bright light,

And before he knew it, the sniper had been sniped.

The Better Half

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sun, 04 Mar 2012 20:38:00 +0000

Tonight was the big night. Richard had waited so long for this. Emily had finally said “yes”. He prepared the bed, fluffed the pillows and readied the mattress. He went over to the cupboard and brought the red velvet sheets. He thought about the woman he was going to make love to, as he spread the sheets. He went into the living room, opened the second drawer of his dresser and picked up the bouquet. He plucked every single petal off of every rose and flung them onto the velvet covered mattress.

Then he went over to the mirror on the wall and slid it upwards. It came right out of its frame. He took the small video camera out of the frame on the wall, checked it and placed it back in. This was going to make him rich. These kinds of tapes, if authentic, could cost millions and he knew it. Tonight was special.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Richard baby, I’m so sorry dear. I will be a bit late, honey.” It was Emily.

“Oh, ok. Why? What happened? ” He was disappointed, still didn’t give up hope.

“It’s just this little thing I’ve to take care of at work dear. I’ve got an extra shoot at

the set, but don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you when I get home, sweetie.”

He loved it, when she called him sweetie.

“Oh alright, you naughty girl! How late are you going to be?”

“Umm, just about an hour. Is that okay?”

“Yeah sure dear!”

He heaved a sigh of relief. This was still on. He was still going to be rich, only an hour later. But he could wait. He had waited patiently for so long, what was an hour, compared to that.

He rested on the sofa in the living room.

****************************************************************

The door clicked. Samuel woke up with a start. It was Emily.

“Did my honey-bunny doze off waiting for me?” She said in a playful childish voice.

He looked at her with contempt. He was livid. How dare she go out with that loser of a guy?! He had to make her realise, what she had done to him, by going out with Richard.

She went to the bathroom, without giving him a second glance, to freshen up.

He got up and went over to his dresser. He knew what had to be done. This was not his first time. He had struck before, too. This was going to be a piece of cake.

“Oh-My-God! You did this for me?” She had just walked into the bedroom to change.

He did not answer. He walked in behind her. She looked breath-taking in her black negligee. Too bad she had to look so beautiful before it was to be done. He took the .45 colt from behind him, underneath the jacket in the jeans and took aim.

She saw him pointing the revolver at her and tried to scream, but it was too late. The deed had been done. The crime had been committed. Samuel walked away from her apartment into the darkness.

****************************************************************

Two days later, the local police came in knocking at the door.

Richard opened the door.

“Richard? Richard Grayson?” the police constable asked.

“Yes? May I help you?” he asked, a bit puzzled. He had gone through the ordeal of answering their questions just yesterday.

“Sir, you are under arrest for the murder of Emily Reyes. You have the right to remain silent and anything you say…”

“What?! That is preposterous! I did not do anything! I already answered all your questions. Now, what is all this about?” He was confused.

“Sir,” said the constable silently, “In the light of newly found strong evidence, we have proof that you killed Ms.Emily”

“What?! What evidence?” He said, even more confused and bewildered at the sudden turn of events.

The video was taken from the memory chip in the camera, and shown to him. Just as he saw the gruesome killing, he was taken aback and he passed out. It was the last time anyone saw Richard.

It was Samuel who woke up the next day, in the holding cell of the police station, thinking ‘She got what she deserved.’

Indolent Insomniac

*Words : 709

**Image courtesy : http://mississippi-spi.blogspot.in/2011/03/schizophrenia-and-mental-disorders-what.html

55 Fiction - Over You

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 10:30:00 +0000

This 55 fiction is written from an inspiration from the song Over You by Daughtry. For those who are new to the 55 fiction concept… it’s a fiction written in no more or less than 55 words.

Over You

She started crying again. For the tenth time today.

She could not believe that it was finally over.

She felt weird and good simultaneously.

She felt independent for a change.

Her whole life seemed colourful again.

She reasoned that it was best for her.

She looked at the book that got her through… Alcohol Anonymous.

Hope you liked it. Drop in a word describing how it is…

P.S The picture used by me in this post is a still from the music video of the same song OverYou-Daughtry.

The True Soldier

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 28 May 2011 06:47:00 +0000

He lifted his already packed backpack onto his broad shoulders and started off. He was a military man. He had served his country nobly for the past 25 years. And in this past 25 years he had seen his wife only on three occasions. Twice when the battalion returned from war and every soldier was given a day off to see their families and once when she came over and stayed there. Never after that, did he see her again. That was 15 years ago. Not a call or a message from his beloved, for the past 15 years, for he was on the border protecting his country. He didn’t even know if she was alive. But he had hope and faith, that she was alive and happy.

His bus came to a halt in the dusty village centre. His house was a couple of kilometres from there and he had no other option but walk. But this wasn’t difficult as he already had walked kilometres with the body of his best friend on his back. He started his homeward journey with full zeal and memories of his beautiful wife.

He thought about the love they shared and the caring they had for each other. He thought about the strength and will power she had, when he told her that he will be joining the army. He admired her determination to go on with life after all that had happened to her. It was cruel, really spiteful what they did to her. But still she had the courage to go on. He wondered whether she was still the same after the mishap.

He went past houses and cottages, thinking about her, missing her even more. So much had changed; yet, nothing on the way home seemed to cheer him up. The children playing on the street, the vendors selling their wares, the village ladies fighting over the hand pump, nothing seemed to lift up his spirits. At last he reached a familiar gate.

He opened the gate and walked in. He ignored the beautiful orchard, the squirrels and the birds on the trees, for he had eyes only for the woman standing on the doorstep. A pale but happy, wrinkled, yet clear, filled with marks and bruises, but still beautiful face looked at him as he walked towards her.

She had marks of healing wounds and burnt skin all over her body, nevertheless, all he could see was the beautiful girl that he loved, the gorgeous lady he married, and the strong yet stunningly beautiful woman that she had become. He saw the woman who stuck with him during trying times as enthusiastically as she was with him during happy times. He saw the person who had the inner strength and will to live even after being tortured and harassed by terrorists, 15 years back.

In the weak, burnt and unpleasant, putrid exterior of his wife, he saw real beauty. Just as she hugged him, he turned around and saw the most beautiful orchard there ever was. He appreciated the beauty of the trees, the bushes, the flowers and the squirrels and birds only after seeing the love of his life after a long time.

**********************************************************************************

This is my belief and my belief alone that, Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and that real beauty can be appreciated only by those who know what real beauty is.

P.S The picture is a still from the movie Lakshya, which is edited and posted by "yours truly."

The Scientist (I)

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Wed, 25 May 2011 14:11:00 +0000

Ria Sharma had a hard day at work. She worked in a software company that manufactured or developed new anti-viruses. She had a deadline for today which she didn’t meet. She had to pick her daughter up from school before she returned to her office to try and meet that deadline.

She walked towards her white corolla. She got in and started it. Just as she was about to pull out, a hand banged against her window. She was startled. A young man with two carry bags was standing beside her car. She pulled down her window.

“Hi, I’m Ryan. I work in this building. 12^th floor, Rudolph Pharmaceuticals.” He said.

“Hi, Ryan. What can I do for you?” She asked, still startled by the sudden intrusion.

“I’d like to ask you for a favour. Can you please drop me at Thakur Village.” He said.

“Sure, actually I’m headed the same direction. Hop in.” She said, good-naturedly.

He climbed into the sedan’s back seat. He sat directly behind her and kept the carry bags aside him.

“Thank you.” He said.

“It’s alright…” she said.

They were about to reach Thakur Village, and her phone rang. She took the call and told her sister that she was driving and would call her back.

He took out an inhaler and used it. Ria looked through the rear-view mirror.

“It’s for my asthma. I had it as a child.” He answered her silent question.

A few minutes later.

“It’s right here. I’ll get down here.” He pointed to a nearby CCD.

“Ok, I’ll pull right over.” She said.

“Once again, Thanks a lot.” He said.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I live around the corner. You should come-by some day.” She said cordially.

“Maybe I will!” he said, smiling.

She was found dead in her apartment, the very next day.

***************************************************************************

“Anna! You’ve got Morgan Sir on line 1.” The field assistant cried out from her cubicle.

Anna Reid, Scottish descent, was working as a Field detective for the CBI – SC Unit (Strange Cases Unit) in India. She was a fair, 28 year old, strong woman who was trained in combat training, hostage negotiations, and many other arenas, which most of the men she knew, wouldn’t be able to endure. She was moderately attractive and had the gait of a supermodel.

She specialised in the weird and unresolved occurrences and accidents that occur in and around India. She had received special training in the FBI-Fringe Division, and many other such divisions all around the globe.

Alex Morgan, the Head of the SCU, was a balding, 35 year old, lean man, happily married with one daughter and was, at the moment, scratching his head over the on-going case investigation report.

“Thank you, Mary… Yes sir.” She said, signalling to the field assistant and picking up the call.

“Anna, could you please come up here. There’s something you’ve got to see.”

“Be right there, sir.” she said.

She took her coat, removed her reading glasses and went upstairs into the glass office.

He beckoned her in.

“Ria, 35 years old, divorced, lived with her daughter.” He said, showing photos of the cadaver and throwing the file on the table in a manner of authority.

“When did this happen?” She asked, rather shocked.

“The body was found by her neighbour, today, when she came over to pick her daughter up for dance classes.”

“Ok. And since when did SCU start handling murder cases?”

“Let me finish. The paramedics who checked the body confirmed the time of death to be yesterday evening and cause of death… unknown.” He completed.

“Unknown? How can cause of death be unknown? There has to be some evidences that show how she died.”

“That’s exactly the point.” He said calmly. “There has been no marks or signs of a struggle. And no bruises whatsoever on her body. I want you and JD on this case right away.”

“Yes, Sir.” She replied. “One more thing, sir, you said she lived with her daughter. Where’s she now?”

“She’s missing. And it’s your job to find and, if necessary, rescue her. She lives in Thakur Village.”

“I’ll inform JD and ask him to meet me there, Sir.”

JD aka Joseph D’Souza was another field detective but was one step under Anna. He was a handsome, intelligent, athletic guy who adored Anna, but never let his feelings get the better of him in his line of duty.

**********************************************************************************

Thakur Village, Mumbai.

Anna was studying the body, while JD was looking around the house for clues.

“Did she have any relatives living here?” JD asked.

“Yeah, her sister lives in Borivali. She was devastated when notified. Just as we all were. I mean I’ve known Ria for almost a decade now, and I can’t think of one person who would want to harm her.” Neetu replied.

Neetu was the neighbour who called in the murder.

“What about her former husband? Would he do this to her?” Anna asked.

“No, of course not. He’s really a nice guy. In fact, even though the divorce, I think he still loved her.”

“Anna, look at this.” JD said, pointing to the floor beneath the body.

She took a closer look and found two purple dots on the, otherwise green, carpet.

“Was this body moved by any of the cops or paramedics?” Anna asked, turning to Neetu.

“No, I don’t think so. They did all kinds tests on the body, but I don’t recall them moving it.”

“JD, can you call…”

“Dr. Harish and ask him to run diagnostics? I’m on it.” He completed with a faint smile.

Anna took out her Motorola and called Alex.

“Sir, our work here is done. We are taking the body to the lab and running diagnostics.” She nodded to the affirmative response and folded the phone shut.

**********************************************************************************

The next day.

“Any Luck?” Anna asked Dr. Harish, as she stepped into the ‘lab’, closing the door behind her.

Dr. Harish was a 48 year old, eccentric man with three doctorates in medical, physical and chemical fields. He was an important asset to the CBI and helped the agents out whenever need arises. Since all good things come with a price, his price was that he wouldn’t leave his old lab that he created in the basement of his house. All experiments and diagnosis were to be done in his basement, much to the resentment of the CBI.

“Interestingly, yes. I think I’ve made a breakthrough. Come around.” He beckoned with a smile.

“Doctor! What have you done?” Anna screamed as she saw the mangled carcass.

The intestines were visible as he had cut open the stomach. There was blue liquid all over the place. She wished she hadn’t had that extensive thali for lunch, before she came in.

The doctor smiled and said

“I’ve cut open her body and studied each section of the body in order to find the poison.”

“You mean she was poisoned?” Anna asked, surprised.

“Yes, but that’s not the point.” He said impatiently.

“So what was the poison?” Anna asked.

“The point is that, do you see this?” He continued as if there had been no interruptions.

“Something that this lady breathed converted her blood’s colour from red to blue.” He concluded.

“Breathed? How can you be so sure that she breathed in the poison and not eat or drink it?”

“You see, dear, that is exactly why I cut her open. Here look at this.” He shoved his hand into the body and retrieved one of her lungs. It was blue in colour.

“Hmmm… well we’ve at least found the cause of death. Now we have to find the motive of murder.” She murmured to herself.

“Not really. I still have to find out what killed her. And then I have to synthesize an antidote for it. You know… just in case.” He replied apprehensively.

Suddenly her phone rang, slightly startling Dr. Harish.

“Agent Reid, Sir.” She answered the phone. It was Alex.

“There has been a development in the case. I spoke to Ria’s sister. Seems like they were really close. In fact, the last call received by Ria was from Priya.”

“Ok, Sir. Did she say anything that could help us?” Anna asked, keenly.

“Not specifically. But she did mention that when she called Ria, she was driving and that she spoke in hushed voices. Probably because someone was with her. I’ve sent out a team to strip her car for clues.”

Anna filled Alex in about the findings of Dr. Harish and hung up. It had been a long day and she was pretty tired. She decided to call it a day and went home.

**********************************************************************************

Rudolph Pharmaceuticals’ Parking Lot.

He was waiting for his next target. As soon as he saw him enter the parking lot, he got into character.

He limped on towards the target, stumbled and fell a few feet away from him.

Rajesh Menon saw this and rushed to help the man.

“Are you all right, sir?” Rajesh asked.

“Not quite. I think I’ve a concussion. Could you please take me home? I live in Borivali.”

“Sure, actually I’m going there myself.” Rajesh said as he helped him climb into his car.

“Is that your son?” he asked, pointing to a photo of Rajesh and his son playing cricket.

“Yes, he’s 8 years old. His mother and I live separately, so I get to look after him on weekends while she takes care of him on weekdays.” Rajesh replied with a tone of remorse.

A few minutes later

He took out his inhaler and breathed into it. He gave the same reply as he gave Ria. Rajesh nodded and drove along.

“Where in Borivali is your house?” Rajesh asked.

“We have to go a little more. It’s in the centre of the town.” He replied.

“Actually, I live here. You can rest here and then go home, if you like.” Rajesh offered.

“That would be really comfortable.” He replied with a smile.

**********************************************************************************

CBI Quarters.

The clock on her bedside table showed 2:30am. She was awoken by the vibration of her cell phone.

“Anna Reid, who’s this?” She said answering her phone.

“It’s JD. The killer has struck again…”

To be continued…

The Road Trip

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 11:01:00 +0000

A normal Saturday afternoon. Vinodbhai was here. Even though he was a “senior” in college he was one of our best friends. I and Vyshakh were browsing music videos.

“Dude, I wonder why Sid doesn’t come over often. He’s here only when there’s some occasion or so. He seldom hangs around with us, why so?” Vinod asked.

“Yeah, come to think of it, you’re right.” I said.

“Let’s call him and ask him to come over.” Vyshakh piped in.

We were super bored because our usual entertainer Thunder Ponnan aka Rahul had gone home. We stayed in a rented room in Coimbatore.

“Nope, he won’t come if we called without reason. We’ll say that I’m keeping a party at KFC. He’ll surely show up then.” Vinod said.

“Ha! You got that right. But why would you keep a party?” asked Vyshakh.

“Because I bought a flat in Trissur.” Vinod said casually and flashed a smug smile.

We carried out our sinister plan and made poor Sid to drive 10 kilometres just so we could say Hi.

Half an hour later…

“Hey dudes, Wassup?” Sid came barging through the front door.

“Nothing much.” Quipped Vyshakh.

“Nothing much?!? Nothing much?!? That’s just awesome. I drive 10kms for ‘nothing much.’ ”

“Well, we were bored and had nothing better to do and so, here you are!!”

That was me, trying to cool him down.

“What the f***??”

I get points for trying, right?

About 45 minutes of gossiping later…

“You know what, we should all go for a road trip!” Vinodbhai said.

“Yeah, how about Ooty?” Sid added.

“Nah, Ooty’s too boring. Been there dozens of times. How about Mysore?” Vyshakh said.

“But… But that’s about 200 miles away.” Said the always worried Sid.

“So what?? Just get your jacket and we’ll be on our way.” I was talking as if we were going to hang out at the neighbourhood CCD. This was a 300km ride and all we had were two bikes and almost no cash.

“Come on Sid, Be a sport!!” Vinodbhai retorted.

“Alright! Alright, I’ll just go home and get some stuff.”

“Wait up, I’ll come along. I’m almost done packing.” I jumped at the moment I heard ‘road-trip’.

“Ok, you guys pack up and meet me at the Nokia showroom near my place.” Sid requisitioned to Vyshakh and Vinodbhai.

None of us could even believe that this was happening. All of the planning took place within a time span of 10 minutes.

Another quarter of an hour later, we were below Sid’s apartment waiting for him. We saw him exiting the lift fully clad in a biker’s jacket which he had allegedly imported from the States.

And we were on our way to one of the most memorable and incidentally our first road trip as college students. Armed with nothing but a couple of bandanas, our jackets and helmets we set out on a night drive to the mystifying city of Mysore.

(This is just a preview of the fun we had at Mysore. More on the trip later.)
(P.S The photograph at the beginning of the post was taken by us en route to Brindavan Gardens.)

The Sad Clown

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Thu, 03 Feb 2011 13:07:00 +0000

“Extra!! Extra!! Read all about it!! Royal Circus is in town today!” cried the newspaper-boy from across the street.

He closed the drapes of his curtain from his hotel room. He went across the room and opened the fridge for a sip of his favourite whiskey. He took the bottle and sat on the edge of his bed. He slowly re-winded his life backwards.

Backwards, to the time when he had the most beautiful girl as his wife and a job that he loved. Life was so perfect back then. He loved what he did and did what he loved. He was his own master. He went back into the time when he could live life the way he wanted to, laugh to his heart’s content and do whatever came to his mind.

Then one day, he learnt about his wife’s sickness. He loved her more than anything in the world and would give anything and everything just to have her back. That’s just what he did. He gave up his entire life savings in pursuit of his beloved’s well-being. But nothing he did could revive her from fate’s clutches. Everything went downhill from that point. Subsequently he lost his job. He had to mortgage his house and property in need of money. Finally being unable to repay his debtors, he took up a job he hated. He had to do it to stay alive.

He was so depressed that he taken up drinking and smoking as an escape route. The only time he was sober was when he was working, that too just because he’d lose his job and end up in jail if he showed up drunk. He loathed himself so much that at times, he felt like killing himself.

But now everything’s going to be alright. He had heard that the best psychiatrist in town lived nearby, and he had already taken an appointment. He had decided that he would meet the doctor, tell him about his problems and then maybe the doctor will provide some magic pills that could revive him from the mess that he was in.

He got dressed in his Sunday best and set out to meet the doctor. All he could think about was how he would present himself in front of another person. How could someone else like him when he himself detested himself. He tipped the beggar on the street rather generously.

He reached the psychiatrist’s office and knocked on the door. He was led in by a husky “Come Right In” beckoning of the doctor. He went inside and took a seat. The doctor was sitting across the table, smiling. He managed a small farce of a smile and went back to his moody, depressed state.

“Alright Mr. G. That’s what you wanted yourself to be called as, if I’m not wrong?”

“Yes Doctor.”

“Okay! Before we get to the part where you explain your anonymity, let me know what’s been bothering you?”

He explained everything in full detail and the doctor listened patiently. After Mr. G completed, the doctor took a huge sigh and said

“You are very disturbed and have a lot on your mind. You must learn to appreciate the smaller things in life. What is done is done. Let bygones be bygones.”

“That’s exactly what everyone’s been telling me. I thought you would be different.”

“Okay then let me give you a gift. Something to cheer you up. Here are two tickets to tonight’s circus. And let me recommend Joker Joe. He cracks me up.”

Mr. G frowned.

“What happened? Why the frown? Don’t you like the circus? You got to love the clown Joe Grimaldi. He’s the most cheerful guy you’ll ever meet.”

“I highly doubt that. I am Joe Grimaldi!”

(Firstly I apologize for being late in posting. The last month was very hectic. Any ways I’m back for good. Hope you guys have been great.

This short story is retold by me. This is an old anecdote which I thought of sharing with you guys. I have no copyright of this piece of art. Hope you guys liked it. Please do comment - irrespective of whether you liked it.

P.S Joseph Grimaldi was a real person. From what I heard, a darn good comedian. )

Dear 2010

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 18:59:00 +0000

Dear 2010,

I’m writing this to you to let you know how much I’m going to miss you. You’ve been a great friend and always stood by my side whenever I needed you the most.

Remember during the first month of our relationship, when we used to attend all the symposiums and seminars one could possibly attend just to get On-Duty leave from college. The days were spent cursing our own college and praising even the slightest of the curiosities of the other colleges we visited. Oh and how can I forget my birthday? Yeah I know… three parties in a row on the same day is pretty awesome. The amount of fun we had was limitless. Awesome times, huh?

When we were two months into our relationship we had our first hiccup. But with you right along by my side every mountain seemed to be a mole-hill. I’m really glad I looked at the glass half full – a decision which I could never have taken without you. Hard times passed and we were once again rolling along as smooth as melted chocolate on velvet. The silver lining was the discovery of new friends and great friends at that. Well you know who they are and how close we got over such a small span of time.

As long as I’m on the topic of friends, let me remind you of the time when I was hooked on to Facebook like a drunkard is hooked on to drinks. That was some awesome time. Long lost friends reunited, friendships rekindled, memories reminisced and a hell lot of leg pulling that followed. The addiction to Facebook was completely justified by recalling the good ol’ days of fun and frolicking about in a heaven called school. Who knew Facebook could and would alter someone’s life to this extent? I made new friends apart from the ones I “found”. They actually are really nice people and sometimes serve as “the stranger whom you tell everything to”, just to get stuff off your chest and not be ridiculed or having to hear a sermon about it. Don’t act like you don’t have or need such people, we all do.

What a time we had, right? All the fighting with friends, cooking up catchy nicknames, making your friends do mundane jobs just because you are too lazy to do it, fight over trivial matters, making up afterwards by giving each other a treat, watching episodes of TV series you’ve already watched a hundred times just because it’s way more fun watching it with your friends, ganging up on someone just to show your unity.

Why on earth do you have to go so fast?

I’m really going to miss all the fun we had. The middle fingering to the passer-by while on bike, the loong drives, city cruising, PAINT-BALL (!!), mass bunking of classes, crank calls, messing up of relationships and the break-ups. The money shortage problem at the eve of month end, cooking up of stories to tell parents, the scolding that we happily received and oh how can I forget the wonderful parties for all festivals and occasions and “you-passed!!”s and “we-just-got-flushed”s and every other reason one could possibly think of.

I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing almost everything on this list next year too, but still I thank you for the fond memories and realisations that you’ve provided me.

Finally, I’m sorry it had to end this way. But it isn’t your fault and neither is it mine. Guess the universe wants us to move on. Any ways, I and all my friends are planning a huge going away party. Hoping to see you there.

P.S I’ll be hooking up with your cousin 2011 pretty soon. Please don’t feel bad. I can only keep my fingers crossed and hope that she’ll be half as awesome as you were.

Yours truly and sincerely,

Anoop

Tension

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Tue, 21 Dec 2010 11:41:00 +0000

Who isn’t bothered by tension these days? For every little work you do, you are surrounded by hundreds of questions, which lead to a hell lot of tension. Here’s a 55-Fiction, and an effort to relieve you of your tension. After each sentence there is a possibility of different kinds of tension. Read on...

A girl asking for a lift falls sick and you rush her to the hospital. Turns out she’s pregnant and she blames you. You deny and agree to have tests done. Turns out you can never have children. Just as you're relieved of your tension you wonder whose are the 2 children your wife had.

(55 Fiction is a form of fiction that consists of only 55 words. This is my first feeble attempt at a 55-Fiction. Please do comment and let me know it is.)

The Mystery

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 04 Dec 2010 10:28:00 +0000

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 17; the seventeenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Dude you need to get over her!”

He was talking about my year-long affair with Anita. Yes, affair! It was not a ‘relationship’ because neither of us knew we were in one! We didn’t even break up. It was Farhan a.k.a fatty a.k.a. my-best-friend-who-is-a-mutual-friend who told me that she was seeing other people.

“You really should get out more. The whole world is out there just for you. I’ve been in my share of relationships and I can tell you that a break-up is hard.”

Yeah right! The longest relationship you’ve ever had was for three days and it was with your toilet seat when you had diarrhoea. Big talk from nappy boy!

“Whew! Finally I got you to smile! You see, my man, this is exactly what friends are for.”

Yeah I’m so lucky to have you as my friend. Life would never have been the same if I didn’t have you coming to my place daily at three in the morning eating my food.

“Now go to sleep. You’ve got a big day ahead. I’ll lock the door on my way out, right after I finish this episode.” He said, digging into the Pringles can.

You’ve watched this episode a hundred times, you fat b*****d. If you want the chips, say that you want the chips. Stop beating around the bush.

“Okay, Okay, Fine! I’m going. By the way, why do I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow? I haven’t planned anything.”

“Oh my friend! That is the mystery of Farhan-The great! You’ll see.”

Oh great another day with you – just what I need. On any other normal day, I could’ve put up with all the crap he comes up with but I wasn’t in the perfect state of mind. But still for some unknown, unfathomable reason, I agreed.

“Okay Fine, but nothing stupid. Please. ”

****************************************************

Next Morning

I woke up to the resonating sound of my alarm-clock. I searched around my pillow and my bed-side table where it usually is. Waking up pissed off was pretty common in the past few days. But for very different reasons.

“I’m gonna kill that… Oh! Wait here it is.”

I found the alarm clock by my bed on the floor. Deciding to have a snack before going back to bed, I stepped out into the hallway. I saw that there were shards of broken mirror lying strewn about on the floor along with… (Oh My God!) blood.

“What the hell happened here last night? I’m seriously gonna kill that Fat ba****d!!”

I brushed aside the broken pieces and cleaned the blood using a waste cloth lying around. Cursing him all the way, carried on with my breakfast and entered my living room. I noticed the front door was wide open.

“If I’m robbed, I swear to God I’m gonna kick his…”

My eyes diverted to the piece of paper on the table spread out. One look at it and I dropped my glass of coffee. It said:

“A very pleasant morning, Anoop. Wondering where you fat friend is? He’s with us. If you want to free him all you got to do is

Solve this riddle:

HAFDAPOAPROYPIL2YLSU

Don’t even try acting smart. Don’t call the police or else you may say your goodbyes to your dear friend. Don’t even try to find me as I live off the grid.

Have a nice day!”

It was signed in a haphazard manner by Farhan in blood. It looked as if he was forcefully made to sign his name.

Petrified, I stared at the message again. It just didn’t make sense. I tried calling fatty’s cell but couldn’t reach him. I called everyone who’s a mutual friend of ours and enquired. There was no sign of him or his whereabouts.

“Dammit! Fatty, where the hell are you and what the hell is this?”

I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t even sure if I should do anything. I was hoping and praying that this was just another of his pranks and he would pop out from behind my cupboard or from beneath my bed. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. Time flew and so did my thoughts.

It felt like one of those Sherlock Holmes movies. I had to decipher the message. I Googled it, searched it on Wikipedia, asked a couple of my online friends but to no avail.

Should I call CID like they do on TV?

“Dude! Stop joking around and FOCUS!! Your friend’s life is at stake here.”

Sherlock Holmes! What would he have done? Man! I wish I had a brain like his… hmm… or like Chacha Choudhary’s.

“Would you stop it already?”

I looked into the blood-spattered message again.

“…. Don’t even try to find me as I live off the grid.”

“…I live off the grid”

There it was!! Clear as daylight. I had been stupid enough to not notice it. Farhan knew how much I loved mysteries and that I practically worshipped Sherlock Holmes. If only I had the common sense to realise what that fatty had up his sleeve.

Here’s the message that son-of-a-gun gave me:

(The grid cipher is a method of coding your message in such a way that it can only be deciphered by arranging the letters in a grid. The above mentioned message is a 20 letter message i.e (5x4). This method was actually inspired from one of Sherlock Holmes' books.)

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

I Am Whatever You Say I Am

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Thu, 02 Dec 2010 13:28:00 +0000

Cause we all just wanna be big rock-stars, and live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars…

It was a Sunday. He didn’t have to go to work today. Not because it was a holiday for the whole working community, but because he was not called by his boss. And it was a welcoming change from the daily schedule. He had just gotten up and was still groggy.

His little daughter dashed into his room and jumped on the bed.

“Good Morning, Daddy!”

“Good Morning to you too, sweetheart. So what plans today?”

“Can I ask you something, Daddy?”

“Sure honey, what is it?”

“Can you take me shopping today?”

“You know I can’t do that, dear”

He really wanted to but given yesterday’s circumstances it was too risky.

“But, if you want, Ramu kaka will be more than pleased to do it for you.” He said.

“But I want you to.”

His insides hurt. What kind of life was he leading? He had the time and the will but still couldn’t fulfil his daughter’s wish. He had to take a decision. Looking at the papers, and going through the headlines helped him make the tough decision.

“Oh sweetheart, I promise you, we’ll go and have some fun after this project of mine. We’ll have a world tour together. We’ll go to Disneyland. What say?”

“Okay! That sounds like fun too! And can we go to Paris?”

“Yes dear, wherever you want.”

He loved his daughter very much and would give anything just to see that smile and the twinkle in her eyes.

“So what are your plans today, Mr. Big-shot?” his wife came in with his cup of coffee. She was the next thing he loved the most, only second to his daughter.

“Nothing much. I’ve got an interview at 4:00 and a party at 8:00 for which you are still invited.”

“You know I hate parties. Why should this one be any different?”

She was right, as always. This party was going to be just as boring as all the rest. But still he had to go. He hated this dual personality where he had to put up a face for others and then come back home to be himself again. Why couldn’t he just be himself all the time?

He knew the answer to that. Every single day, he asked this question to himself even though he knew the answer. He hated the way people pointed and stared at him, whenever he got out of his house. But the worst thing was he couldn’t do anything about it. His livelihood depended upon it.

“It’s time, dear.” She said.

“Yeah, I know.” he said as he got into his robes.

“Oh My God! Princess Diana’s dead!” she shrieked as she straightened the paper to read the rest of the news.

He combed his hair and moved towards the balcony. He opened the drapes. Sliding open the window, he stepped out into the balcony.

“Princess Diana murdered by the paparazzi” he heard her read the headlines as he waved his hands to the huge gathering of fans crowded in front of his gate just to get a glimpse of him.

(This post is inspired mainly by Eminem’s ‘The way I am’. It shows how the fans and the very people who got him to the top form a hindrance to his family life. The first line is the lyrics to ‘Rock-star’ by Nickelback. It begins with ‘I’d trade this life for fortune and fame, I’d even cut my hair and change my name…’ but is it worth it?

Please comment and help me improve. I’d also like to quote Terminator: ‘I’ll be back’)

The Mess In The Kitchen

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 12:16:00 +0000

You know the times when everything seems to be going wrong and in the end with just a turn of events or twist in the line, everything just falls into place. Life just doesn’t seem worth the effort until that point in time when life vicissitudes and everything feels like bliss.

She looked at the broken sink. It was broken since this morning. She was looking forward to a day with herself when she was greeted in the morning with this predicament. She was all alone in her house. Her parents had been out since a week and won’t be back before another.

It was not only about the sink. Everything in her life was topsy-turvy. She had just broken up from a year-old relationship and was in need of a shoulder to cry on. She had friends. Her BFFs. But none of them could ever understand what she was going through. She was on an all-time low and now this. She was on the verge of breaking. She needed to vent her feelings.

She thought of all the good times and the bad times as she picked up the mop and began to clean the mess in the kitchen. She then went over to the phone and called the plumber. She heard his reply and felt even more dejected. He couldn’t come until tomorrow. So she had to bear with this mess for the whole day and night.

After cleaning the whole place thrice she was completely spent. All she wanted to do was drop on the bed and fall asleep. But she went and made some instant coffee. She heard the spluttering of the sink before she saw a whole new pile of crap blubbering out of the outlet. She sighed. She’d leave it like that and wait till tomorrow.

She took her cup of hot coffee and headed towards the balcony. She looked into the mirror as she passed by it. On a normal day she would have looked stunning. But today, she looked hideous from all the cleaning. But she didn’t care anymore. She went and sat on the balcony edge.

She loved sitting there and enjoying the view. The cup of coffee was just an icing on the cake. She knew she deserved it. She sipped her coffee and forgot about the world around her. She wondered how lonely she was and how almost all her friends were in pretty serious relationships. She wondered whether there was just one man for every woman and if she had already lost her man. She dreamt of a prince in shining armour who comes to rescue her from these trying times.

She was brought back to reality by the flailing arms of a guy.

“The Balcony Friend” she called him. It was the guy who lived across the street. He was always there whenever she was down. She shared almost everything with him and he was patient enough to hear her out. They communicated by sign language or sometimes by screams, only after making sure that the street was empty. They both didn’t know anything personal about each other, other than the problems they shared. It was not what she wanted but it was what was agreed upon by a silent agreement.

“The kitchen sink is broken. Since this morning.” She signalled.

“Tried calling the plumber?” He asked.

“Not coming until tomorrow.” She signalled back.

“Did you try to fix it?”

“Yup. Not good at plumbing.” She replied.

“Tried calling friends?” He asked.

“Too busy” she replied.

“Wait.” He signalled.

He went inside. She was sure he would return. She didn’t know anything about this guy but she knew he would return. And he did.

“Should I try?” He asked.

“You’re welcome to.” She beckoned.

She saw him count up to her window and smiled. “Three-zero-four” she signalled.

He nodded and left the balcony. She waited with baited breath. This was the first time she was going to see him in person instead of through a window sill. She had no idea what she was going to do once he came over. She couldn’t even make tea properly let alone offer him snacks.

Even before she could end her train of thoughts the doorbell rang. Nervousness filled her and the stench from the kitchen did not help. She tiptoed through the mess and opened the door. She saw him smiling at her. She welcomed him and apologized for the trouble.

“Stop apologizing. It’s what friends are for.” He said.

“Well I’m lucky to have a friend like you. What’s your…”

“Uff! The place is reeking of slime. It’s broken since the morning, huh?” He intervened.

“Yeah! It’s been horrible.” she sighed.

“But you look great!” he quipped and smirked.

“Stop teasing me! I know I look horrible!” she said as he moved towards the sink.

“Have you got a piece of cloth or something I can tie this up with?” He asked.

She sprinted across and reappeared with a rag. She handed it over to him.

“There! That should do it till the plumber comes. Now, where’s the… ah, there it is!” he said as he picked up the mop lying strewn about on the middle of the kitchen floor and started cleaning.

“Thanks a lot. I don’t know how I can repay you for this.” She said, trying to help him.

“You don’t have to. I’m your friend and you’re mine. Just be there for me like I’ve been there for you, which, I hope I have.” He said and prepared to leave.

“Don’t worry I’ll be there for you too.” She said.

He smiled and left. She didn’t completely understand what just happened. But whatever it was it was really good. She felt much better than she did before. Maybe it was because the sink was fixed. Or maybe just knowing that someone was out there, looking out for you, made her feel secure about herself. It’s always nice to have friends, but its better when you have friends who care a great deal about you. She forgot all about her problems and was a lot happier because the “mess in the kitchen” was cleaned. For the first time, since a very long time she smiled to satisfaction.

(This post is inspired and dedicated to, but not totally based upon, a real incident. All characters in this post are purely fictional and any resemblance to anyone alive or dead is purely coincidental. The incompleteness is intentional and I intend to keep it like that. Please leave your feedback in the form of comments and help me improve. Thank you for bearing with me.

P.S This is a new genre I’m trying. So please cope with the gaffes and help me out by commenting.)

Asterix and Call of Duty (p3)

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 17:56:00 +0000

This is the third and final part of the story “Asterix and Call of Duty”. I hope you really enjoyed the first two parts. This part is the sequel to “Asterix and Call of Duty (p2)”

Read on…

**********************************************************************************

She walked out wearing a salwar-kameez. She looked so beautiful and elegant, she sure could’ve easily given the Fashion week models a run for their money. Her silky, lush hair placed carefully behind her ears, showcasing her ever-so-lovely face. Even the handbag that she carried around looked prettier when she …well carried it around. She was perfect in all aspects.

“Dude, before you go, I need to tell you something. She’s my sister. Don’t do anything that’ll make me wanna kill you.” Vikram said, pausing the game.

I guess he saw me staring …and my jaw drop.

“You know me, man. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah, I do know you. And that’s exactly why I’m telling you this.”

You sure do know me very well.

We left their house and headed towards the national park. We got talking. And we got connected so well that, I started talking about how the park was established and by the time I finished I was telling her how my first dog died.
It was a miracle how two people, like us, can connect so well in so less time.

We talked for hours together. It was the first time that I wasn’t bored talking to somebody for hours. Somehow during our conversation that ranged from the types of flowers we liked to Indian politics, the discussion of parentage popped up.

She told me how her mother died when she was young and started whimpering. She sobbed and wiped off her tears. I really wanted to comfort her and tell her that it’ll be alright, but by the time I gathered my wits and decided to do it, she’d gotten over it and was apologizing for her breakdown.

You see, the last thing any guy needs, on a first date, is a crying girl. And I wasn’t even sure if this was a date. Even if it was, I don’t think she knew it. But she got over it soon and all was well again.
Thank God!!

We laughed and talked and talked and laughed. In a nutshell, the whole evening went great. I had a great time with her and I believed that she had one too. But now it was time to leave.

“So, what do you do at the end of a first date?” she asked, nudging me on the elbow.

Ahaa! So this WAS a date and she did know it!

“So this was a date?” I said and smiled. “Usually, it ends early and i wipe the drink off my face and go home.”

You are my first first date, sweetheart. Well, it’s too soon for you to know that, so ‘Hugh Grant to the rescue’.

“You are so cheesy.” She giggled and slapped me on my shoulders. “That’s a line from a Hugh Grant movie!”

Dammit!

“Anyways, I had a great time. Thank you so much. You are so sweet.”

And she hugged me. I was on seventh heaven. I hugged her back wishing we could stay like this forever. Even the two seconds felt like eternity. I guess even Einstein was in love during his primes, otherwise how on earth did he come up with relativity? And then she pulled back and so did I, rather reluctantly I might add.

“Will I see you again?” I asked expectantly.

“I don’t know. I love reading, you know.” She gave me a peck on the cheek as she said it, and left.

Mesmerised by the kiss, I was, but still her parting words didn’t make any sense. “I love reading, you know.”…? What was my question?

As I walked back to my humble abode, I thought about today’s happenings. The various decisions I made and their outcomes, and the most beautiful outcome of the stupidest of decisions. I marvelled at Mr. Fate’s abilities.

And sleep decided to arrive only after countless dreams about Miss Congeniality (NOT the movie) .

**********************************************************************************

A couple of days passed since then. I’d talked to Vikram, but not about her. I missed her so much. I was amazed how one person can make u miss them even if you’ve just been together for a single day. Few more days passed. I feared if this situation goes on, I may start becoming insane. I mean more insane than I already was.

July 10, 11:00 AM (The day I realised I was in love.)

A major part of my morning was consumed comprehending this: “Will I see you again?” “I don’t know. I love reading, you know.”

Then it struck me. And struck me hard. I dashed into my bedroom, changed into the most feasible set of clothes and rushed out onto the busy street. I hustled past the pedestrians, pushing over someone and thereby receiving a very pleasant and utterly decent greeting. I flew past the gates, and the grumpy old man, and opened the door that said “READING ROOM”.

She was there! She sat with her back to the door and so didn’t see me enter. Seeing her made me realise I was in love. The feeling was indescribable (if there is such a word). I felt elated, surprised, happy, fortunate, delighted, exultant and jubilant, all at the same time.

All of which, by the way, I’m sure mean the very same thing.

Oh Shit! I haven’t got any ring or even a rose to propose. I thought of going all the way back to a flower store to get a rose and then a ring and come back, but seeing her there, waiting for me made me feel really special and going back felt stupid.

I looked around and found a bunch of lilies in a vase on the librarian’s desk. I picked up a lily from the vase in front of the librarian’s plaque, dried it off and hid it in my back pocket.

This is it.

I went in like a hero in the Bollywood movies and knelt down in front of her and said

“The first time I saw you; there was something different in the air,

I could not help myself but to stare.

It was not what you were wearing or the smile you tried to hide,

It went deeper than that; it came from the inside

When I first saw you, I knew you were the one,

And now that I've seen you, I plan to keep you here,

Where I can see you infinitely.

To give into your eyes and see the passion of a soul in need of release,

That needs to be nurtured, to be touched, and to be loved.

With you it all falls into place,

Allowing me to experience a love unknown to man,

A craving only satisfied by your love.

Tanisha darling, I love you.”

I’ve never known this side of mine. I guess she brings this out in me.

I looked up expectantly into her eyes and gave her the flowers. She took them and slapped me.

Ouch! That hurt! Both externally and internally. What the hell just happened.

And she hugged me. Hugged me tight. And I felt tears roll down her cheeks.

Talk about mixed feelings!

“You idiot! What took you so long? I had been coming here for the past one week continuously hoping to see you. Every single day you didn’t show up, I realised how much I loved you.” She said through sobs.

“Oh dear, I love you, too. What do you think? All these days I’ve endured without seeing you were spent in Disneyland? I felt every bit as terrible as you did! And you just couldn’t have told me where and how we were supposed to meet, could you?”

“Hmm… you just proved how much of an idiot you are! Now stop talking and give me the ring.”

Uh-oh!!!

“Well I… um… was in a hurry… and…”

“Mr. Anoop Remesan Menon, If you think you can get away from giving a ring, you’ve got a whole another thing coming! I’ll make every second you spend with me like hell!”

She looks so cute when she’s angry

“Even then I’m ready to spend my entire life in hell, if I’m with you.”

“You cheapskate, you still can’t agree to buy me a ring, can you?”

One day! That’s all we spent together and she wants a ring!! Imagine spending the rest of my life with her. But I was ready to spend all the riches in the world, just for that one day!

“Oh Meri Jaan, don’t worry I’ll get you your ring on our anniversary!”

“Umm okay! I love you so much!”

Cheapskate’s still got a way with the ladies!

As we were leaving, I turned around to the spot where she was sitting only to see Asterix throwing a pie onto Obelix’s face.

How was it? Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave your comments below and let me know how you felt about it. Thank you for bearing with me through all this.

Asterix and Call of Duty (p2)

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Sat, 13 Nov 2010 18:34:00 +0000

This is the second part to the story “Asterix and Call of Duty”. Hope you guys really enjoyed the first part. Without much ado, let me start the second part.

**********************************************************************************

I was dumbstruck. And I am not only talking about Call of Duty. I was flabbergasted at Mr. Fate’s ways. Out of all the people in the entire five kilometer long complex, he chose my best friend’s sister for me to fall for. What should I do? Tell him? Yes, I should tell him. He’s been my best friend for about four years now. It would be selfish on my part if I didn’t tell him.

“Dude, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve been struck by lightning.”

I wish I were struck by lightning. It would have been so much easier and painless.

“I’ve got to tell you something, buddy.”

Oh My God! This is harder than I thought it would be

“Yeah, shoot.”

I hope you won’t after I tell you

“Okay, the thing is…”

“Hey Vicky! Enjoying the game, huh?”

Lata Mangeshkar would have been embarrassed had she heard this nightingale's voice."

She walked into the room. No, no, she glided into the room. I fell in love with her all over again. All this tension of telling him, made me forget how beautiful she was.I hate being interrupted but one just cannot get mad at such beauty.

“Hey! Aren’t you the guy who was immersed in Asterix?”

That’s certainly better than “Aren’t you the weirdo I met in the library?”

“Yup, that’s me!”

Who are you? Bugs Bunny? What on earth was that?

“I had no idea you were the ‘friend’ who was coming over. Well, nice to see you again. Vicky’s told me so much about you.”

I sure hope he hasn’t told everything about me. Of course he hasn’t, she wouldn’t be talking to me if he had.

“Oh! So you guys already met? I was waiting to introduce you to my best bud.” Said Vicky, still immersed in his game.

“…you to my best bud.” I felt horrible. I felt as if I were the most selfish human being… no, no, most selfish animal in this world.

“Yeah, we met in the library.” I said.

“Library?” He laughed out. “What on earth were YOU doing in a library?”

There goes my last piece of self-esteem. I will not take this anymore. I need to look good in front of her.

“What!? I went in to read.”

Please don’t say it… Please don’t say it…

“Dude, seriously...”

Dammit!

“I didn’t know it was the library until I went in. But I did read.”

Ha-ha!!

“You were reading Asterix.” She said and they laughed.

Even though my pride was shattered, it was totally worth it. She looked beautiful when she smiled but she looked phenomenal when she laughed.

STOP STARING!!

I looked into the screen and watched Vikram shoot down a battalion of Nazis. She got up and turned to leave. I simply loved the way her hair followed the turn and fell on her shoulders. Just as she reached the door, she turned back and said.

“Vicky, I’m bored. Show me around, nah. I already love the neighbourhood.”

Oh dear, I’d love to. I could take you for a walk, a walk you’d never forget in your entire life

“I’m really sorry dear. This is the last mission of this level and I need to complete it.”

Me, me, let me take her!!

She frowned.

“But I’m bored! I already regret buying you that stupid game. Can’t you pause it or something? Or let Anoop play it. He must be tired reading Asterix.”

Okay I know you’re beautiful and everything but enough with the ‘Asterix’ jokes already. I love Asterix and it’s not like I’m reading Tinkle or something. Ahh! Tinkle!

“No I can’t pause it and I won’t allow Anoop to take credit for completing the mission. He’s too wily to be trusted.”

Yeah, like I’d do something like that! And what the hell happened to ‘my best bud’.

“Why don’t you guys go? Anoop knows the place very well. And I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to take you sight-seeing. He loves long walks.”

God bless you, buddy. May you live a thousand years. I’m really lucky to have a friend like you.

“Um okay. If that’s not too much trouble, Anoop?”

Oh sweetheart, I would bring the moon, the sun and all the stars in the sky, if you asked me to.

“Okay, I guess.”

I was so happy I’d do a triple somersault if I could.

“Oh! That’s so sweet of you. Let me get dressed.”

And she left the room. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind.

“You said you wanted to tell me something?” he said.

“Huh?”

“Before. You said you had something to tell me.”

“Oh yeah, I just wanted to say how good you are at Call of Duty.”

(I know this suspense element is killing you, but it is essential for the effect of the story. Anyways, please comment and give me your valuable feedback. Your comments are necessary for my improvement. Thank you for bearing with me and I promise to be back with the third and final part very soon.)
Read the next part : Asterix and Call of Duty (p3)

Asterix and Call of Duty

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Fri, 12 Nov 2010 17:20:00 +0000

Sometimes when things go wrong we decide that it is the work of one Mr. Fate. Well Mr. Fate is just as cruel as you think. I’ve been screwed over by fate many times but this story is about how when Mr. Fate decides to play with his prey before devouring it

**********************************************************************************

“This is awesome man! You’ve got to come and check this out!” screamed Vikram through the phone.

He was talking about the new “Call of Duty 2” game that he got recently.

“Dude stop SHOUTING!” I yelled back.

“But you’ve got to see this one man! Come over right now!” he hollered.

“Dude you live miles away and I’m not in a mood to jog. I’ll come over some other time.”

We lived in a complex that was spread out for almost five kilometres and we lived at two ends of the complex. The only method of commute other than jogging was if you had a personal vehicle.

“Shut up and get here fast. Man this is AWESOME! I don’t want to hear anything from you now.” He shouted.

“If you don’t stop howling I won’t be able to hear anything EVER!” I said and hung up.

The problem with being best friends for years is that you can’t say no to anything. But this time I decided that I won’t go for sure.

**********************************************************************************

Ten minutes later, I found myself getting out of my building with my iPod, and high expectations for CoD2.

I decided to walk instead of jogging.

Now, why would I do that? I usually jog in order to reach faster. Not just because I’ve so much concern for time but also because I love the feeling. But today I decided to walk.

About five minutes into my walk and about two songs later, it began to drizzle. Now is the time to run. But I still didn’t. It was a great feeling. Walking through the drizzle, listening to John Denver sing “Leaving on a Jet plane” was a splendid feeling.

Slowly the drizzle began to change into a downpour and I had to take shelter in a nearby building. Genius that I was, I forgot to bring the one thing you never forget during the monsoon-My Umbrella.

The weather changed from bad to worse. Instead of running back to my place I went in the building that gave me shelter.

Everything was new and I had never seen anything like it before. I wandered around and asked the person sitting behind the desk, busy scribbling something,

“Bhaiyya, yeh kaunsa building hai?” (Which building is this?)

He looked at me, top to bottom and then back to top again and gave a glare of contempt. I’ve never been looked at like that ever. That look made me remember my granny’s face when she saw me for the first time in a Slipknot Tee and a low-waist.

“Library ka naam suna hai?” (Ever heard of a thing called as Library?) And he went back to scribbling.

No Wonder everything felt so new! So this is how a library looks like.

Now that I’m in one of these I might as well read something. I thought.

Hmm…Let’s see…Fiction, Non-Fiction, Science, Reference, Biographies, Autobiographies, … where the hell is… Ahh, there you are – Comics.

I picked up the Asterix Comics and looked around for a seat. Unable to find a seat I roamed around a little more and saw another door “Reading Room”.

Benches and tables were arranged in rows on both sides of the room. The whole room was empty. I jumped over the first two rows of tables and sat on the third row. I made myself comfortable, using the wall as a back-rest and my legs spread out on the bench.

**********************************************************************************

I was so engrossed in my book that I did not see her come in. She came and sat on the bench in front of me. It was only after she kept her books down that I noticed that someone had burst into my bubble of comfort.

I sat up with a sense of alarm. I looked at her.

I don’t know whether it was the fact that she had the most innocent face that made her so look so awesome or the teasing smile she had on her pink lips that made her look like the most beautiful girl on the planet. She had wonderful curly hair that flowed down till her shoulder and ended in spirals.

Oh! Mr. Fate, I cannot thank you enough for this. How else could one explain all the events that took place that day? Me, the person who never step foot in a library before, was sitting there opposite the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

“I… I’m really sor… sorry to startle you like that. I was so immersed in my book that I didn’t notice you coming”

I tried hiding my book, but I guess she had already seen it.

“You were ‘immersed’ in Asterix?!? Which was the part that really touched your heart?” and she smiled again.

“The part where Asterix talks about having a food fight.

I’m sorry, have we met before?

Oh! And by the way, I love you.”

Beauty and sarcasm. What else does one want?

“Yeah I don’t really read much and I got in here because of the rain.” I replied.

“Yeah that explains a lot!” she said.

She was talking to me as if we have been friends since childhood. And I don’t even know her name. Or did I? Was she really an old friend and could it be that I’ve failed to recognize her? No way, I would never forget a face like hers.

*Awkward Silence*

Say something you idiot! Anything will do! She has spoken, now it’s your turn! Say something! Introduce yourself!

“The rain is gone” she said.

“Hmmm… Then I probably should get going.”

WHAT!?! NO! Talk to her you dumb moron!

“I’m Tanisha, by the way.”

“Oh! I’m Anoop, Nice meeting you. Do you live around here?”

Phew! Well at least you are good-for-something.

“No, I’m here visiting my cousins.” She said.

“Oh! Ok!”

“Bu-bye then!” She said.

That was abrupt! Don’t judge her too soon. You don’t know her. Be cool. Go with the flow.

“Bye.” And I shook her hand.

My GOD! Her skin was silky smooth. It felt like running your hands on velvet.

Dude, LET GO!!

I left her smiling and went back to the bookshelf, replaced the book and got out of the place, flashing a huge grin to the grumpy librarian.

**********************************************************************************

“Where the Hell were you? It took you so long to get her? What did you do? Crawl?” welcomed Vikram.

“Yeah, did you know it was raining cats and dogs outside?”

“That was about an hour ago. Any ways look what my cousin bought me. ‘Call-of-Duty-2’ baby!”

“Your cousin?”

“Yeah! She just went down to the library...”

(How was it? This is my second post. Please comment –irrespective of whether you liked it or not. And thank you for bearing with me through this. I sincerely hope to pester you with more of my posts)
Read the second part : Asterix and Call of Duty (p2)

You Can Join Class From Monday

noreply@blogger.com (IndolentInsomniac) — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 13:08:00 +0000

It was a new place. A new city. Everything had changed so quickly. I didn’t even know the language. Life was so much better when you have all your friends around, sharing and caring for each other.

I had heard only stories about the magnificence that is Mumbai City. It was a welcoming change from the peaceful and quiet of Pune.

My first day in Mumbai city

I was eight years old and had just moved into Kandivali (E), Mumbai.

I got out of the rickshaw and ran towards the lift, fascinated by it and wondering how just at the press of a button a whole room comes down just for transportation to the upper floor. I had my colouring book, my G.I Joe, my HotWheels cars, and my crayons in my small Mickey Mouse backpack.

The lift attender smiled at me flashing his broken tooth (or at least what was left of his tooth) and asked me “kaunse maale pe jaana hai bhaiyya?”(“Which floor do you want to go to?”).

Partly scared and partly overwhelmed at such a grown man calling me bhaiyya, I answered “Seventh floor…” (I didn’t know what to call him, now that he called me “bhaiyya”) “... Uncleji ” I completed.

We reached our floor and I pushed the metal doors open as if I had been just rescued from a cave. And then I looked up at the four doors staring into my face. I looked up, to my dad who was standing beside me. He gave a smile, the smile which usually meant “think before you leap so that you may not have to weep”. I again looked at the doors as if it was a game show where you had to guess the right door to win the prize, otherwise you lose. Still flustered, I looked around for any clue as to which might be our apartment. Who knew living in a rented bungalow right from birth would have such consequences? I had never seen an eight storied building let alone an apartment. As I looked up I saw the label on top of the doors that had numbers written on them.

I grinned. I looked up, again, to my father and smiled sheepishly. I got the keys to the apartment, which said “701” in bold letters, and opened the door. Light filled the dusty, inhabited room. I went in, chose “my” bedroom, and jumped on the bed.

This is when you understand the disadvantages of being an elder brother. You had to share everything with your sibling. “My” room was shared by me and my brother.

“I love my brother now but back then he was this annoying guy who got half of all of my stuff. ”

The next two days were spent cleaning and setting up of the rooms. Oh! What fun that was! The very smell of new furniture and ripping out the packing, the bursting of the bubbles of the bubble wrap, making forts out of used boxes, the thermocol bits torn and flying about, using thermocol as swords and fighting with Nandu (That’s what we call my brother at home ). Those were the days. Magical times.

School

During all this fun-time, there was one thing that I dreaded the most. School. That’s right. I dreaded going to a new school. Meeting new people, adjusting to the surroundings, etc. etc.

There were unanswered questions such as “Would I be able to fit in?”, “Will my new ‘friends’ like me?”, “Will I be able to bear the new teacher?” These were the questions that had answers that I didn’t want to know.

The very next day, my worst nightmare was realised when I overheard my dad say to mom, “I called the school today. They’ll have to sit for an interview before they get admission. Anoop has his interview tomorrow.”

“And Nandu?” asked my mom.

“He doesn’t have any interview. Just a formal introduction to the teacher of the K.G department” dad replied.

WHAT?!? I had to sit for an interview while he gets “formal introduction”!! It was as if the universe had plotted against me and in favor of my brother.

*********************************************************************

I was so neatly dressed that I looked as if I was in the welcoming party of Queen Elizabeth to India. All this made me (if possible) more nervous. Yesterday evening was spent memorising facts ranging from the current chief minister of Maharashtra to the capital of South Africa.

Me and my dad went to school for the big interview. I don’t think a bomb diffusing squad would be half as nervous as I was. The whole journey I was so sure of making a right fool out of myself that I already imagined a huge guy sitting behind a desk and telling me that I’m too stupid to join the fourth grade and that I should rather be playing with my 3 year old brother.

That was my interpretation of the principal.

I wasn’t even listening to my father who was telling me something about being confident and answering smartly.

We reached the school. The arch on top of the school main gate read “St. Lawrence High School”. This is it. This is where I’m going to be humiliated. The beautiful receptionist at the counter told us to have a seat and wait until the principal’s free. It was like waiting to get humiliated.

After about 5-10 minutes we were ushered in. I went and sat on the high chair in front of the desk. He gave me a smile. I tried smiling back but all that tension and restlessness gave me a weird expression (now that I think about it, it kind of looks like Chandler’s photo smile ).

The funny part is he didn’t ask me a single G.K question. All he asked me was from where I was and whether I liked Mumbai so far. I had half a mind to tell him that the new CM of Maharashtra is Mr.Vilasrao Deshmukh and the capital of South Africa is Pretoria^*and storm out of his office.But I managed to keep my calm. He told me that I can join class from next Monday and that my class teacher would be Tehsin Miss.

“I can join class from next Monday”- That meant only one thing new bag, new books and a hell lot of new friends.

*Pretoria is the executive/administrative capital of South Africa. Cape Town is the legislative one. I'll bet only few of you knew that. :)

(And I did find many friends. Great friends. Awesome friends. Friends I’ll never forget in my entire life. This is my first post as a blogger and I sincerely hope to trouble you guys more with some more of my posts. I’d like to thank Vish Sarang for inspiring me. Even though I do not know him personally, I know him through his blogs. The very blogs that inspired me to write this one. Then I’d like to thank Manasa Rao, for the brief chat/discussion that we had due to which this blog is created. And finally I thank you my readers for bearing with me for this whole time. Your suggestions are always welcome and please do comment-irrespective of whether you liked it or not.)