Reflections

Finding a partner in crime

2023-03-30T19:05:00.002-04:00

"You gents need some women in your life." I heard Melissa's voice coming from inside the bathroom. "I have not seen a dirtier place in my life."

I turned to look at Santosh, my roommate who was sitting on the other end of the couch in the living room, half in embarrassment, half in amusement. He stared back at me with a similar mix of emotions. We were actually not going to be roommates for long. Santosh was quitting his PhD program and joining Google as a software engineer with a Master's degree. I had been successful in getting a substantial grant approved, which considerably increased my graduate stipend, which meant I could finally afford my own place for the first time in my life. As for Melissa, she was a nice older Hispanic lady who had advertised her house cleaning services on the community notice board in our apartment, and who was now deeply regretting her choice to agree to clean our apartment before we moved out the following week, for a measly sum of $200. Suffice it to say, Melissa received a generous tip that afternoon once she finished cleaning the apartment.

The final days before I moved out were hectic, to say the least. Santosh moved out first, and there was a lot of partying, general merriment, and eventual sadness of losing a friend to physical distance before he boarded his flight to California that weekend. I finished packing up my modest belongings in boxes that barely filled up half a U-Haul cargo van and moved to my new apartment about a mile further away from the university campus. It was definitely a cozy space, but more importantly, it was much more affordable, and it was entirely mine. Unpacking boxes took a day or two between lab work and research, and after a few trips to Target for some new apartment essentials, I was fully set up in my place a week after Melissa's comment about the lack of a significant other in my life. Melissa was not the first to point out that fact either. My friend and lab mate Henry had been trying to convince me to sign up for a dating app for at least a year. But between my long hours in the lab, teaching assignments, and coursework load, I never had the time to even think about dating.

"But that was your second year! They are always the most intense. Now that you have the fellowship, you don't have to teach anymore. Plus, no more coursework either." Henry tried to reason with me with fairly strong points after I confided in him about Melissa's remark a few days later and whined about the lack of time for companionship.

"Yes, but who would want to date me?" I grumbled back at him, exposing my utter lack of self-confidence.

"Dude, you are solid! If I wasn't already married with kids and about a decade older than you, I would totally date you." That was Brittany, another friend and lab mate of mine who had apparently not been as preoccupied with her work in the lab as I had imagined her to be. Some independent sources state that I visibly blushed upon hearing that remark, but I can neither confirm nor deny those rumors.

A few more minutes of discussion and arguments regarding this topic followed among the three of us, and in the end, I was almost forced at gunpoint to install Bumble on my phone. The next couple of hours were spent very productively setting up my personal profile, with constant debates regarding the suitability of certain prompts and the attractiveness of my pictures. Other lab mates walking in and out of the office space occasionally joined in the critiquing process. By the end of that workday, I had a pretty complete dating profile.

"Now all you have to do is start swiping on profiles. Once you match with someone, the girl has to message you first before the match expires in 24 hours." Henry was teaching me how the app worked. "Start with a few right and left swipes, and see who matches with you."

After heading back to my new tiny apartment and wrapping up a ramen dinner, I opened Bumble again on my phone with much apprehension. On my screen was the profile of a girl named Liz. She looked cute. Scrolled down a bit more. She liked running, hiking and guys with a good sense of humor, so I thought I had a good shot. Swiped right. Another profile popped up. Priya. Also a PhD student at the university. Looked attractive. Vegan, super into yoga, skiing and cocktails. Not really my kind of activities. Swiped left. On came another. A gorgeous girl named Harini. Interests included biking, board games, running and eating out. Pretty solid overlap. Swiped right. Rinse and repeat for an hour before going to bed.

I woke up much later than usual the next day, and hence, did not check my phone for missed overnight notifications until it was late morning and I was already in my lab. Among the many unimportant Twitter, Instagram, and Gmail notifications were the ones from Bumble. I had 4 matches, and 3 new messages. I could feel my pulse racing as I opened the app. The messages were from the two I mentioned previously - Liz and Harini, and one another girl - Sandra. The first two had sent generic "Hey!" and "Hello!" messages. Sandra had gone a step further and commented specifically about my love for horror movies. I liked her better already.

I will be honest and admit that that particular Thursday was not a productive workday. I started chatting with all three of them at the same time, and I realized I was finding it extremely easy to connect with all of them. Liz was starting her senior year as an undergrad studying biochemistry. Harini was trying to get into law school, and Sandra was in grad school studying to become a therapist. I was great at banter and the dad jokes, and by that evening, each one of them had separately messaged me their phone numbers asking me to text them directly. After dinner that night, I had asked them out on dates - Sandra for coffee on Saturday morning, Harini for dinner on Saturday evening, and Liz for drinks on Sunday evening. Now it was time for me to panic.

I was panicking because I had no idea what I was doing, even though I must have been doing something right to get three dates in the first week. And that was because I had never actually dated someone in the US yet. I had been on a couple of dates, if you could even call them that, with a girl in college back in India. But I hadn't felt a spark with her, and we ended up parting on friendly terms. I texted a couple of friends for advice - Henry and Dinesh, the only friend I knew who had a partner he had met through dating apps. The counsel I got from them was pretty similar - just be yourself, have fun, and offer to pay for the food/coffee/drinks. Wear comfortable clothes and shoes, and consent is important before any physical contact such as a hug or a kiss.

Friday came and went like a flash, and it was yet another unproductive day. The texts were flowing, albeit more freely with Sandra than the others. I felt like I was on one of those dating reality shows on Netflix - I had to keep track of each person's conversations: likes and dislikes, the level of flirting that they were comfortable with, what part of my life I had shared with each person so far, and so on. It was honestly exhausting because these were three extremely smart and witty women, and I had to spend a ton of mental energy to keep up with all of them. So even though it was a lot of fun, I decided that after my first dates that weekend, I would rather focus all my energy on one of the three girls if we liked each other.

Saturday's weather was a bummer. It had been raining all Friday night, and it was still pouring down that morning. I was supposed to pick up Sandra at 10 am from a bus stop near her apartment since she didn't have a car. She had been weirdly curious about what car I drove, but I chalked it up to pre-first date nervousness and an attempt at small talk. I was not looking forward to walking around in the rain, or alternatively, sitting inside a crowded coffee shop trying to hear each other over music that no one would ever hear outside of tiny coffee shops. Trying to come up with alternative locations for the date, I suddenly remembered that I had been given a membership to the science museum by Santosh as a parting gift. "Use it wisely," he had said in his gift message. Well, what wiser way to use it than to take a girl out on our first date on a rainy morning? Thanking my brain for being useful for once, I texted Sandra to check if she would be okay to meet at the museum instead of the coffee shop like we had originally planned. The response was not too enthusiastic, which was mildly concerning, but she was still okay with the change in plans.

Nervousness and anxiety were the top two things I would describe as feeling as I pulled into the bus stop to pick Sandra up. She was already waiting for me when I pulled in, which I was not surprised about since she had mentioned in her dating profile that she liked being on time for all her commitments. She was wearing a light blue floral summer dress, her face glowing with a bright smile as we made eye contact for the first time, and I was suddenly feeling very hot and sweaty despite the cold and dreary weather. I waved at her as she walked towards the car, her golden hair glistening in whatever sunlight the dark clouds had let through that morning. She settled down in the passenger seat of the car and gave me the opportunity to get a closer look at her beautiful blue eyes, subtly reflecting the blue from her dress. We hugged each other while exchanging pleasantries, and I started driving to the museum, half blushing and half melting.

The chemistry we had over texts appeared instantly when we started chatting in person too, and we utterly enjoyed being in each other's company, spending over five hours inside that tiny museum just talking. Scientific exhibits were walked past many times without even being glanced at, multiple coffees and snacks were purchased and consumed at the museum cafe, flirtatious conversations flowed, jokes were cracked, embarrassing personal and family stories were exchanged, and multiple occasions where loud laughter could be heard echoing around the museum chambers. At the end of the date, we hugged and briefly kissed while I was dropping her off at her apartment, and she promised to text me with plans for our second date soon. I drove back home, asked ChatGPT to create a text message for me with the prompt 'How do I politely cancel a first date with someone since I feel like I already met my soulmate?' and sent the response to both Liz and Harini, adding a personalized apology to the texts as well.

"Is it ok if I already feel attached to someone after our first date?" I texted Henry once I got home that evening. I then described the details of the day's happenings in subsequent texts.

"That does sound like an amazing first date, dude!" was his reply. "Be wary of love-bombing, but don't overthink it, and go with the flow. So happy for you!" he added.

So with the flow, I went. We texted back and forth constantly over the next two days between friend meetups, grocery store trips, and laundry loads, gushing over how much we liked and missed each other. On Sunday evening, Sandra finally asked me out on a second date, wondering if I minded just coming over to her apartment the next evening and watching a horror movie after a take-out dinner, to which I readily agreed. "Sounds like a perfect evening!" I remember texting her.

Monday morning was a blur. I briefly remember waking up, being physically present in my lab, and doing something that resembled work but don't recall anything else that happened. My memory of that day starts that afternoon when I finally got back to my apartment, showered, changed into clothes more appropriate for a date night, and headed over to Sandra's apartment a few minutes away by car. As she let me into her apartment, I noticed she was dressed more casually that evening, opting for a blue flannel shirt and black jeans, still looking absolutely incredible. We kissed, more passionately this time, and settled down to munch on pizza and breadsticks. I don't even remember what we were talking about, I was lost in her eyes, and caught myself shamelessly ogling at her a couple of times. But something felt off about her that evening. She kept repeating some things she said a couple of times, seemed to have forgotten some conversations we had on Saturday morning, and her movements seemed kind of robotic. Maybe she is a little bit stressed out, I thought to myself.

"Let's move to the couch!" she said with a smile as we finished dinner. "I already purchased the movie on iTunes so we can just start watching it."

We sat on the couch close to each other while she switched the TV on. I turned to look at her gorgeous face up close, but what I saw was a face wearing an unnatural smile. Sandra turned her face towards me, her eyes glassy and expressionless, and her mouth stuck on the same smile, almost as if she was glitching. Then she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thank you for using SANDRA - Scam Artists National Division's Robot AI. Hope you have a pleasant evening. Goodbye!"

I watched in horror as the eyes and mouth on her blank and robotic face closed, and her head fell back on the couch, almost as if she/it was dead. What the fuck is happening? Then the TV started playing something.

"Hello! We have been trying to reach you regarding your car's extended warranty. Our records indicate that you have a 2020 Chevrolet Equinox..."

3 pm

2022-01-24T21:00:00.003-05:00

Ding, dong!

The shrill noise of the doorbell broke the heavy silence that currently occupied the house at 1521 Rosewood Way, Minneapolis, Minnesota. The floor creaked as fifty-four-year-old Chinmayi Venkatesan walked from the kitchen and looked through the peephole before opening the door. She managed to catch a glimpse of the delivery UPS truck leaving the driveway. She glanced at the name of the sender as she picked up the cardboard box at the doorstep. Finish Line. “I am going to have to talk to Ram about his shoe addiction when he returns,” she thought to herself as she walked back to the kitchen.

Chinmayi got to the stove just as the water in the pot started boiling. The water hissed as she added three scoops of tea powder to the simmering pot, and the delightful smell of chai filled the house. Some minutes later, she poured a cup of whole milk into the pot and watched as the mixture inside turned a skin color. After a few more minutes, the tea was ready to be served and savored. She poured the liquid through a filter into a pastel green flask and made sure she tightened the lid. She hoped it would stay warm for the next couple of hours. She got dressed and wore her N95 mask over her face.

The hospital was a ten-minute drive away. Two months ago, she thought they would be spending this day in Tokyo. She had planned their trip perfectly to make sure she was there with Ram during the cherry blossom season. Chinmayi had made detailed itineraries for the two weeks they were scheduled to visit Japan. Alas, fate had other plans. Soon, Chinmayi was at the entrance to Prairie Medical Center. She cleared the security check at the door, where her temperature was taken to make sure she wasn’t sick. She took the elevator to the tenth floor.

“I am here to see Sriram Ganesh, “she told the receptionist at the check-in counter outside the heavy doors leading to the ICU.

“Thank you. Please wait here for a few minutes,” said the receptionist as she motioned towards the empty row of seats to her left.

Chinmayi took one of the chairs beside a large, glass window overlooking a parking garage, and carefully set the tea flask on a side table next to her. She allowed herself to lean back and gently closed her eyes. She felt a lone drop of tear rolling out of her left eye. Everything felt surreal to her. Her husband had been healthy and fit just two weeks back, as fit as any fifty-five-year old man could have been. Yet here he was, five months later, struggling to breath on his own. She glanced at her watch. twenty minutes to three. She hoped she could get inside to meet him by their usual ‘tea date’ time.

Sriram Ganesh and Chinmayi Venkatesan didn’t meet until about six months into their undergraduate degree in Trichy, India. He was a Physics major, while she was studying Biology. They got introduced through a mutual friend. Chinmayi needed help with statistics, and her friend suggested she get help from Ram. The first time they met at the tea shop next to the college, they spoke for five hours, mostly about statistics. Subsequent meetings were less about statistics and more about each other. It was love at first sight for Ram, but he wouldn’t tell her until about a month after. They went on their first date at the same tea shop they had met for the statistics help session. Since Ram took classes in the day, and Chinmayi had all her classes in the evening, 3 pm was the only time both of them were available, so that is when they decided to meet.

“Anna, rendu tea! Strong, please!” exclaimed Ram as he gestured to the owner with two fingers while they sat down. The conversation was awkward at first, both of them exuding nervous energy about this being their first official date. Eventually, they grew comfortable, and the natural chemistry they had for each other was visible to anyone who happened to glance upon them sitting together. She had grown fond of him by the time their first date ended. He was already head over heels in love with her.

Their ‘tea dates’ continued at the same tea shop for the next two years until they graduated from college. Ram then moved to the USA for his Master’s degree. Chinmayi joined him at the same university a year later for her PhD. It was a foregone conclusion that they were going to get married. It was merely a formality when he proposed to her two years later when he got his job offer. She happily said yes and kissed him on his lips. They had two weddings that year, one in India, another in the USA.

Even after getting married, the ‘tea date’ became a daily ritual. By chance, their workplaces were a five-minute drive apart. So, they almost always met at 3 pm every day for a hot cup of tea, with either Ram driving to her office, or Chinmayi driving to his. The tradition had continued on and on for more than thirty years. They decided early on not have any children, so they fostered pets and traveled the world. In the past twenty years, they had been to sixteen countries. Even during their travel abroad, they eternally had 3 pm everyday allocated for their ‘tea date’ time. They had made five visits to Japan alone. Chinmayi had fallen in love with the people and culture of Japan, Ram had fallen for the matcha green tea. And that is where they would have been today, if not for him falling sick.

They had been monitoring the spread of the virus in China, Japan and South Korea in late January and early February. Coronavirus was what they called it. Chinmayi remained hopeful that they could still visit Japan as long as they didn’t close the borders. But things were looking bleak. By late February, it was apparent that the trip would not be happening, as the disease ravaged unchecked across the world. They canceled their flights in the first week of March. Being in a higher risk category, both Chinmayi and Ram decided to stay home unless absolutely necessary, as they started hearing reports about infections in their city. One day in the second week of March, he started experiencing fits of dry coughs along with a high fever. His entire body was in tremendous pain. Ram had hoped that it was just the flu, but he secretly feared the worst. The worst it had been. He tested positive for Covid-19 two days later when he had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance after he stopped breathing one morning. This was his tenth day at the hospital, and his second in the ICU.

It was almost 3 pm when the doctor came out of the doors leading to the ICU and told her the terrible news. Ram’s condition had worsened significantly over the past two hours, and pneumonia had ravaged his lungs. Respirators hadn’t helped, and they hadn’t been able to save him. Chinmayi fell back in her chair shocked, her arm hitting the flask as she did so, splashing tea all over the waiting area.

TL2565 watched as the counter kept flashing increasingly alarming numbers. He took a sip of hot tea from the mug on his desk and stood up from his chair. He walked along the brightly lit corridor to the office with the door sign ‘TL2’. He knocked on the door twice.

“Come in!” a deep voice answered.

“Ma’am, we lost a hundred more humans in the past ten minutes. Surely, we cannot let this continue?” TL2565 asked his superior.

TL2 sighed. She and the other time lords had been monitoring the pandemic from the very beginning. It was never intended to be so fatal. She had known for a while now that it had to be done. Something she had failed to do in 1347, 1914 and 1939 CE.

“Fine, let’s reboot 2020 CE,” she said solemnly. “This time make sure it is contained. I will deal with the repercussions, if any, from TL1.”

“As you say, ma’am.” TL2565 said as he walked to the red button on one of the walls inside the office labeled “REBOOT” and pressed it.

Ding, dong!

The shrill noise of the doorbell broke the heavy silence that currently occupied the building at 1 Chome-22-4 Horifune, Kita City, Tokyo. The floor creaked as forty-year-old Matsuri Watanabe walked from the kitchen and looked through the peephole before opening the door. She broke into a warm smile as she opened the door to greet her guests.

“Konichiwa, Mr and Mrs Sriram Ganesh, welcome to Tokyo! I am your AirBnB hostess, Matsuri Watanabe. Please come in and have a complimentary matcha tea before you head to your rooms!”

Love

2022-01-24T20:57:00.002-05:00

Love. It is very hard isn't it? Being in love. It certainly brings unbound joy and amazing experiences on several occasions. But sometimes, it only gives you pain and sadness. And during those especially sad moments, it is incredibly painful and agonizing. You can tell fairy tales are made up simply because most of them do not talk about these hard times. They mostly focus on the happily ever afters.

Bright. Some of those thoughts were firing in my brain when I was walking on the trail around Stow Lake in San Francisco that Sunday afternoon. It was an incredibly bright, sunny, and fog-less day after a considerable streak of cold days, so it seemed like the entire population of the city was spending their day at Golden Gate Park. A few minutes of walking later, I found a bench far enough from the rest of the crowd, just under the shade of a large tree. I sat down and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. I had a good view of the lake and the trail going around it. Dozens of boats were milling about the lake, each one carrying either a small group or a couple, causing a mini traffic jam every now and then. A young couple was walking their dog on the trail, waving back at the excited kids who were waving at them from some of the boats. The dog was wagging her tail displaying her own excitement and joy.

That could have been us, I thought to myself. But you screwed it all up. Now she is most likely gone, and things will never be the same.

Pain. I never thought one could feel so much pain and hurt without any physical injury or trauma. Every waking second reminded me of what I did, how I managed to lose her affection. The love of my life. My best friend. My stomach grumbled to remind me that I had skipped both breakfast and lunch that day. I had been eating erratically for the past couple of days, ever since the conflict. She wouldn't eat anything I made for her since then either. I got concerned after a few hours, and called our doctor to ask for help. He suggested that I take her to a friend's place for a change of scenery for a few days. After a lot of cajoling, I managed to drop her off at her friend Emma's place where she had been doing good for the most part.

Sleep. I turned around, stretched my legs on the bench, and closed my eyes. Sleep was my only escape from the constant pain. Not that I slept soundly the past two nights. I missed her cuddle, how she would lay on the bed next to me, hug me and put her head on my chest. It was the best feeling in the world, and I would just go straight to sleep with a smile, feeling all her love. Last night I got into bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, eyes tired but unwilling to close. The neurons in my brain constantly firing, bringing back the memories of how badly I screwed up.

Anger. I was mad at myself for losing my mind that day. The day it all went down. I had just come home after a long and frustrating day at work, tired and hungry. She had been nagging me for something that evening, I don't recall now what it was for. But after a few minutes, I got into a fit of temper, and had screamed at her to shut up. In her shock, she knocked over my phone which was on the coffee table on to the floor, and the screen broke with a loud, cracking sound. At that point, I completely lost it, and slapped her hard on the back. I still shuddered thinking about it. That was it. She simply walked away from me to the bedroom. She wouldn't eat anything, or respond to any of my apologies. I remember how the look in her eyes changed. Something broke in her when she realized I had hit her. When I went to sleep next to her on the bed, she woke up and went to the couch. I cried to sleep that night.

Tired. I got up from the bench, and walked back to my car. As I was driving home, I remembered our road trips together. She loved traveling in the car with me, taking the highway to a distant and exciting place. Sometimes I would put my right arm on her, and she would sleep hugging my arm. I missed caressing her ear while she slept on my arm. The car still smelled like her. I missed her so much. Google Maps had detected an accident on my usual route home, so it was now redirecting me through a slightly longer route. As I stood waiting at a light, I looked around and saw that I was actually stopped next to her favorite store. The store that made the one dish she liked more than any other food in the world. Could it possibly work?

Hope. I parked my car, and got my order in for her dish. After a few minutes of waiting, I got my bag of food, and drove straight to Emma's house, texting my friend that I was on my way there. I walked in to the house, and I could see her sitting next to Emma in the living room. She saw me and turned her back towards me with deliberation. Heartbroken, I sat on the floor next to her, desperate to catch her eye. I told her I was sorry, and I would never hit her again. I told her I realized I broke her trust, and I hoped that she would forgive me and come back home with me. I then opened the bag of food I had. The smell of peanut butter filled the air in the room. I knew she could smell it too. She turned and looked at the cake I had in my hands. Then looked at me. It was full of love and forgiveness. I knew then, that she had forgiven me. I hugged her and cried.

Home. When we came home that afternoon, I told her that I loved her very much and that she was my world. I sat on the couch, and she ran to me and sat on my lap. I scratched her ear the way she liked it. She grinned at me. Later that evening, I took her to the dog park, where she met Emma again, this time in happier circumstances. They took turns chasing the ball, and she was completely spent in an hour. When I went to bed that night, she curled up next to me and put her head on my chest.

I love you Phoebe, I whispered to her. She answered back with a gentle bark of love.

Summer of '98

2015-09-30T21:31:00.000-04:00

The giant clock in the living room read 4.55 pm as Shenaz Treasuryvala chose yet another ridiculous-looking letter from out of her pile. Ten year old Nitin closed his eyes. He couldn't take the suspense. He knew that everyone else in the room was tense too. He could hear his eldest cousin sitting next to him silently uttering a prayer to the Almighty under her breath. Please be the Titanic song. Please be the Titanic song.

Growing up in a middle class Brahmin family in Chennai in the 90's had its fair share of ups and downs. One of the 'downs' was that education took the front seat and anything else didn't matter. Scoring a double century in the district level cricket tournament and helping your team win didn't warrant a praise unless you got a perfect score in the Mathematics exam the next week. Nitin's household didn't have cable television. Watching TV meant watching one of the three channels Doordarshan broadcast free-to-air. Except during summer vacations.

After a mini-mutiny by the four children of the house during the previous summer, it was decided by the elders of the house that Nitin and his three cousin sisters could watch cable television for the duration of the holidays. The subscription would start the last day of classes for the academic year, and would promptly be canceled the day before the first day of classes for the next year. Nitin felt like it was Christmas in May. He could watch Dexter's Lab and Tom and Jerry every day all summer! Of course, there was an occasional squabble with his sisters on what they wanted to watch. But if there was one program that they wanted to watch unanimously, it was MTV's Most Wanted.

Every single day of the summer, when the clock struck 4, Nitin and his sisters would gather around the TV to watch Shenaz read letters designed and written by her avid fans from around the country sending in requests to play their favorite songs. Every day, Shenaz would pick her favorite half-a-dozen letters from among the thousands of letters in her pile, and would play the song those fans had requested. The more artistic and grand the letter was, the more it had a chance of getting picked.

1998 was the year of the Titanic. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that more people in the world knew who Leonardo di Caprio and Kate Winslet were than who the President of the United States was. The movie earned billions of dollars worldwide, and people of all age groups lined up to watch the movie in theatres. Also very popular was the movie's soundtrack, especially the song My Heart Will Go On by Céline Dion. The song topped all possible charts, and 90's kids all around the globe spent multiple hours listening to the song on their Walkmans. Unfortunately for Nitin and his sisters, they couldn't quite convince their parents to let them buy the cassette. So they came up with a plan. They would record it using their tape recorder when the song is played on TV.

It wasn't an outrageous plan. The TV sat right above where the tape recorder was, and they had enough pocket money to purchase a blank cassette. Since it was by far the most popular song of the year, you couldn't watch Channel V or MTV without listening to it twice every day. It was played at least once every other day on Most Wanted. But fate had other plans for Nitin. As luck would have it, every time the song played on TV during the summer holidays, something or the other would prevent them from recording it. Once, Nitin forgot to put the blank cassette in before hitting record. Another time, the power went out just as the song was about to be played. Unexpected guests, cable TV blackouts, quarrels within the family, summer vacation trips, weddings, and cricket matches happened. They could never get the song on tape.

Soon, it was the last day of summer vacations. This was it. If they couldn't get Céline Dion to sing on TV that day, they could never get her on tape after that. The next summer would be too late, as the song's popularity would wane and be taken off air. The four children were camped in front of the TV with the tape recorder ready. But they had had no luck all day. It was almost as if the universe was conspiring against them. At 5 pm, the cable guy would arrive to cancel the subscription. And that would be the end of their Titanic song dreams.

The kids in the living room held their collective breath as Shenaz opened the final letter of the day and read its contents.

"...and I love your show so much! I think you are the prettiest girl on TV! This is the first letter I have written for any TV show! So if you could please play me the song 'My Heart Will Go On' by..."

The next couple of seconds were filled with overlapping screams and shrieks of excitement. Nitin almost tripped on his own feet as he jumped up with joy. This time, he was sure they would get the song on tape. He remembered to hit the record button on the tape recorder. You could hear a pin drop as the song started playing on TV. He had already triple-checked that the cassette inside the recorder was blank and ready to go. When the song ended, everyone huddled around to verify if the song had been recorded correctly. As the cable guy turned up on time to disconnect the line, the sweet voice of Céline Dion echoed throughout the room. Now they will have the song on tape for eternity! They could listen to it as many times as they wanted. And whenever they wanted. That was the moment they had been waiting for. It was the happiest night of the summer for Nitin, as he drifted off to sleep listening to it on his Walkman.

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Nitin stumbled into his apartment after a long Monday at work. He gulped down the burrito he had bought for dinner on the way back, and went straight to bed. He did his nightly routine of opening Spotify on his phone and plugging in his earphones to listen to some tunes before retiring for the night. As usual, he opened the Discover Weekly playlist, and hit Shuffle Play. On came a song that he hadn't listened to in a long time, and as sleep engulfed him, a hint of a smile appeared on his face as he remembered the moment many summers ago.

Game Over (Part 5)

2012-01-21T23:54:00.005-05:00

Author's note: Finally, I managed to get enough time and inspiration to complete my (long) short story series, Game Over. I had fun writing it, and I hope to continue updating my blog as much as I can. If you haven't read the first four parts yet, you can find them here - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. Please read the other parts before you start reading this one.

My mind was blank when the bus I had to board arrived at the bus stop inside the Indianapolis International Airport. I boarded the bus, and occupied a seat nearest to the exit. Being Sunday morning, the bus was almost empty, except for a couple of other people. I didn't mind that. I needed the loneliness and space. I was too numb with fear and anxiety to think about anything. I felt like I was about to explode. That is not to say that I hadn't thought about a logical explanation behind the email I got from Krithika, and what could have happened to her for her to send such an email. But I tried not thinking about it again since all the scenarios that came to my mind ended with either me getting killed or her getting killed.

After I got the mail, I barely had enough time to check out the address on Google Maps and to figure out how to get there. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me until after I boarded the bus that I could have actually checked out the building using Street View. The bus ride took about 40 minutes, and I got off the bus at the stop nearest to the address. It was a 10 minute walk from the stop to the address in the email. As I started walking, I took in as much information as I could about the neighborhood. It wasn't particularly crowded, but more importantly, it wasn't empty either. It was mostly a residential neighborhood, with a few seven or eight-story buildings here and there. I could feel my heart beating increasingly faster as I got closer.

I finally reached the address. It was a house, a really small one at that. There were no cars in the driveway, and the lawn looked like it could use a mower. But I could see signs of inhabitancy inside the house through the windows. I was in half a mind to break in to the house through the windows, but I thought it was better to knock on the door first. And that was exactly what I did.

Knock knock knock.

I waited and tried to hear footsteps, if any, coming from the other side, but I couldn't. A few seconds passed. No answer.

Knock knock knock knock.

I knocked harder. Now I could hear movement from inside the house. And I could distinctly hear footsteps coming towards the door. I tried to prepare myself for the unknown entity to open the door. I suddenly had a distinct feeling of being watched through the peephole in the door. The door opened. It was she who had opened it.

"Krithika, what happened to you? What is this place? Why are.."

"Just come in, Karthik." she interrupted me. "Just come in, and I will tell you everything." Her voice had an eerie feel to it.

I entered the house into what seemed like a living room. It was dark, so I really couldn't see anything.

"Do you remember the date we first met, Karthik?" she asked me, in a soft, mellow voice. Her voice was really creeping me out. It sounded very much unlike her usual bubbly, cheerful voice.

"Yes, of course. It was the 14th of August. Now what does that have to do anything?" I wanted to know.

"And how long have you known me?"

"Err, around two weeks. Come on, now...."

"Happy birthday, jerk!"she exclaimed, and at the same instant, turned on the lights, and in the middle of the room, was the biggest cake I had ever seen in my life. There were balloons all over the room, and on the cake were written the words 'Happy birthday love!". I had been involved with this stupid girl so much for the past two weeks that I had even forgotten my own birthday. I had lost track of time.

"What the f&*% is all this?" I didn't know if I was angry, happy, relieved or a combination of all three.

"You don't even remember your own birthday, do you?"

"But, was it really necessary to scare me like this? Don't talk to me ever again!"I was kind of pissed.

"Awwww, my baby is all angry now." she said in a cuddly voice, and put her arms around me, and gave me that perfect, cute smile. My heart had already began melting.

"I love you." I blurted out. "I love you with all my heart."

"Sshh, I know, you jerk." She put her finger on my lips. I looked into her eyes. I could see the universe swimming inside them. Subconsciously and slowly, our lips started approaching each other. I knew it was going to be the most beautiful kiss ever.

"Dude!" suddenly I heard my roommate, Suresh's voice. I looked around. I realized I was sitting inside flight number 9W 226 from Brussels en route to JFK, and Suresh was sitting right next to me. "Dude, wake up. It is time to get off the flight." he said.

Game Over (Part 4)

2011-03-05T14:12:00.002-05:00

If you missed the previous parts, you can read them here: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.

Morning came soon enough, that meant she had to catch a bus to Indianapolis, and I had to take the shuttle to Bloomington. In other words, it was time to part. As much as I tried not to feel sad, I couldn't help it. Though we started talking due to a mishap, we got along so well that we couldn't believe we had known each other for less than a day.

"Are you on Orkut?" she wanted to know.
"Who uses Orkut nowadays? I moved on to Facebook like a decade ago." I quipped.
"Oh what is Facebook? Is it similar to Orkut? Or is it like Yahoo Messenger?" she asked.
"Wow I can't believe you are so behind in technology. No one uses Orkut these days. Nor do people use Yahoo Messenger. It is all Facebook and Google Talk now."

So after a short, two-minute long lecture on the latest trends in social networking and instant messaging technology by me, we exchanged email ids. I promised to send her my mobile phone number as soon as I could, and so we parted with sadness writ large on our faces.

"Don't miss me too much." I said jokingly as she got into her bus, but deep inside my heart I knew I would miss her a lot.
"Ya right. Dream on." she managed to smile, as the doors closed and the bus started to leave the airport. I kept looking in her direction till the bus disappeared from sight, and I was sure she would have done the same too. Soon after, I was on my way to my apartment in Bloomington, thinking about how my life was going to be at a new place, with new people around me.

A couple of days passed. I managed to settle down in my new environment, new roommates and all that. We managed to have Comcast install a new internet connection, and I got myself a cheap Nokia on an AT&T connection in one of my seniors' family plan. As soon as I opened my inbox I saw that it had close to a hundred unread emails, but I immediately found the email which I really wanted to see.

Jerk,

Got myself a phone. Call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx. Miss you.

Krithika

I reached for my phone in such a swift move that my roommates thought I had a paralytic attack. I called her. Somehow she knew it was me on the phone, even though I hadn't sent her my number yet. It was such a magical feeling when I heard her voice again. I felt like a hundred unicorns were circling around me, and a thousand flowers falling all around me. It was as magical and revolutionary as the original iPhone. I hadn't missed anyone that much in my life before. And I told her that. She told me she felt the same. We spoke for hours, yet it felt as if we spoke for hardly a few minutes. I can't even remember what we spoke about, but I couldn't care less. Yes, I was in love.

A couple of weeks passed. I kept talking to her on the phone so much, that I hadn't bothered to go out and look for part-time jobs while all my other friends were already employed. I was absolutely certain that she was into me as much as I was into her. I think she once mentioned to me that she hadn't taken a shower in 48 hours since she spent most of that time talking to me, but I am not quite certain.

It was a Sunday morning when I received the email. It was around 9 in the morning and I was wondering why she hadn't called me yet. I was still lazing around in bed, when I casually opened my inbox to find an email from her. It had been sent to me 4 hours earlier.

Karthik,

I want to tell you so many things, but I need to tell them to you in person. I am in a very bad state right now, so don't try calling me. I will not answer your calls. Meet me at the following address at 2 pm today. I will tell you everything. If I am not there at that time, please call the police and report me missing immediately. Please hurry.

135, 7th Main St,
Woodburnton. Indianapolis.

Love,

Krithika

To be continued...

Game Over (Part 3)

2010-05-03T23:52:00.006-04:00

If you missed Part 1 and Part 2, read it here and here.

"We are here, at last. In the USA." she said to me and smiled. The same cute smile.

"Yeah." I smiled back.

Once inside the JFK airport, we had to change flights, from a Boeing to the much smaller Embraer jet. Unfortunately, we couldn't get seats next to each other. She seemed more disappointed than me due to that. I had mixed feelings, since this time, it was a hot American chick sitting next to me. I was hoping to somehow start a conversation with her during the flight. She had to sit next to an old lady who kept asking her where she came from and whether all Indians are vegetarians. She kept turning back to look at me helplessly, but stopped when I started giggling uncontrollably every time. She was probably pissed at me for not having tried hard enough to convince the old lady to shift to my seat, so that we could sit together.

The flight landed in Indianapolis soon after, at around 11 pm local time. She glared at me when I walked towards her so that we could gather the baggage together. May be she did notice that I was chatting away happily with the American chick (Sarah was her name, by the way) while I left her to suffer in silence. I offered the biggest and most stupid smile I could manage, and hoped it would work.

"So, a busy flight eh?" her voice was stern, almost authoritative.

"Hmm no. But at least it was more interesting than the previous flight. And a much hotter chick." I grinned.

"You %&$*!@ (insert the worst expletives here) !!" she started off, but I knew she was floored.

We collected all our baggage and sat in one of the couches inside the airport. Being midnight, there was no transportation in and out of the airport. So we had to wait till the first taxi in the morning to go to our respective apartments, her's in Indy and mine in Bloomington. I opened my laptop and was pleasantly surprised to find a free wifi network. So I started replying to all mails and facebook messages that I had got during the two days of my internet deprivation. She hadn't brought her laptop from India, and thus sat opposite me, trying hard to sleep.

"Enough with the internet, jerk. I am bored." she quipped suddenly.

"I thought you were sleeping." I offered an explanation.

"Not able to sleep. Let us do something interesting together."

"Ya? Do you want to play NFS Most Wanted? Or FIFA? They are the most interesting things I have come across." I gave her two options.

"You know what? I am actually glad that you are going to be in Bloomington, and I am going to be in Indy. You are such a jerk." she gave up on me.

And there it started. Just when I thought I had told her my entire life history, and she had told me hers, I was proved wrong. We kept talking, for hours. After close to four hours, she finally got tired of talking and without any notice, lied down on my lap and dozed off. Careful, careful. Don't jump to any conclusions yet, Karthik. Not yet.

To be continued..

Game Over (Part 2)

2010-02-06T14:25:00.001-05:00

If you missed Part 1, read it here.

It took me ten minutes to change my clothes and come back out of the restroom. Some people were still staring at me. I still kept ignoring them. I occupied my seat and looked at her. She still looked miserable. I tried to dump my clothes inside my bag, and after much effort, managed to do so. I settled down in my seat and she opened her mouth to speak.

'My name is Krithika." she said, as she offered a handshake.
"Oh, nice name. I am Karthik." I accepted her friendly gesture.
"Are you going to IUPUI too?" she wanted to know.
"No. Actually I am going to IUB." I noticed the disappointment creep into her face as I said that.
"Oh, good. I wanted to apply there, but I missed the deadline." she explained.
"That is bad. But IUPUI is a good university too."
"Not as good as IUB though." she added before I could finish.

And there it started. We spoke as if we had been friends for long. The talk started with university rankings, admits and rejects, and other academic stuff, and slowly moved on to hobbies, parents, and personal stuff. We had talked to each other for almost 2 hours, and I felt I almost knew her entire life history, and I had told her mine. An old lady sitting in the front row was glaring at us because I guessed she couldn't sleep. I ignored her looks. Anyway, both of us felt tired after the long talking session, so we decided we needed some sleep. And we fell asleep soon after.

By the time I opened my eyes again, she was awake already. I drowned in her eyes as she said a "Hi" with the same cute smile. I smiled back sheepishly, rather sleepily. She was watching something on the personal entertainment system. I leaned forward to see what it was.

"Rock on." she whispered before I could recognize the scene.
"Oh, nice movie." I replied.

Bored, I started watching some old tennis matches. Before long, a voice in the PA system announced that we were about to land in New York. Ah, finally after so much preparation and struggle, here I am, at the United States of America. A huge sigh of relief. Little did I know, that, two weeks later, I wouldn't be so relieved after all.

to be continued...

Love at work

2010-01-30T08:01:00.005-05:00

I hated to work on Saturday evenings. Especially since all my roommates would be enjoying in Kilroy's Sports Bar, while I would be cleaning up trash, or serving burritos. That Saturday, I was put up at the Italian food joint, and it was particularly busy. I had never seen so much crowd before, and it was tiring. The only solace was that Hafize was working in a place right opposite to mine.

I first met her when we both were put up in the same place for the shift, the Deli. Being the evening shift, not many people wanted sandwiches, so it was relatively free. I managed to strike a conversation with her, introducing myself, and that I am from India. She introduced herself and said she was from Turkey. Boy, was she pretty! She was the most beautiful girl I had seen in years. I got lost in her eyes for sometime, before I managed to get back to the real world again.

The word 'India' worked wonders, as she started raving about how great and beautiful India is, and how handsome Indian guys are. Then we started talking about the university, our respective courses, how she finds speaking in English very difficult, and so on. She seemed to know most other people working in the food court. As one of the guys, Dan passed by, he commented.

"Hey, nice boo@#" he said to her. I couldn't hear properly what he meant to say, as I shook my head in disbelief.
"Thank you." she replied with a big smile on her face.

I was thinking, what the hell is wrong with this girl. Then I realized she was wearing quite a nice pair of boots. I literally banged my head against the wall. Time seemed to fly as we kept talking. By the time she left I knew it. Yes, I was in love.

Sadly, after that one time, I couldn't meet her much. Even if we did, we didn't have time to say anything more than a 'Hi. How are you?'. Even on that day, there was no way I could talk with her, but I had all the time in the world to look at her. Ah those pretty eyes. I could swim in them forever.

Soon after that, my shift ended, and so did her's. I met her when we were clocking out.

"So, how was your shift?" I asked her.
"Not bad. How was yours?" she asked me back.
"It was awesome." I said with a smile.
"Any plans tonight?"
"Nope, nothing as of now." I told her honestly.
"Oh. Where do you live, by the way?" she wanted to know.
"Park doral apartments, it is near Best Buy. You know?" I tried to explain to her.
"Ya. Actually that is quite near to my place."
"Oh is it? That is cool." I told her.
"You know what? You can come to my place, and have some food. Then I will drop you in your apartment. What say?

I couldn't believe my ears. Did I hear her correctly, or was I just imagining something?

"Er, you have a car?" I managed to blurt out.
"Of course, stupid. Tell soon, my husband is waiting outside in his car." she said quite clearly.

There was a huge shattering noise heard somewhere inside the huge hall, and everyone rushed to see if any of the glassware crashed to the floor. Alas, it was the sound of my heart breaking.

Evolution of dreams

2010-01-07T13:48:00.005-05:00

Age 7-15 : You dream that your mom/dad is dead and wake up scared.
Age 16-22 : You dream that your girl/boy friend is dead and wake up scared.
Age 23-30 : You dream that your spouse is dead and wake up scared.
Age 31-55 : You dream that children are dead and wake up scared.
Age 56-69 : You dream that your grandchildren are dead and wake up scared.
Age 70+ : You dream that you are dead and realize it wasn't a dream.

The last words

2009-09-29T09:57:00.004-04:00

Another of my 55fiction works:
She held his hands. It felt warm and nice. How she wished she could have married him! Even now, he looked so handsome. She realized she could never live with him again. After much trouble, he opened his mouth to speak. "Why did you kill me?"

Game over (Part 1)

2009-08-15T21:58:00.005-04:00

"Welcome to Indianapolis!", the driver announced as the shuttle entered the airport. Though it was the second time I was going to Indy, something about the place looked unfamiliar to me. Maybe it was the weather? I didn't know. It was kind of chill and foggy when I got down from the shuttle. There was the scent of rain, but I hoped it wouldn't rain, at least not till I get back inside the safety of my apartment.

I walked towards the exit gates of the airport. The bus stop was a little further away. I had been told that a bus arrives exactly at 12.30 pm, so I figured out I would have at least ten minutes before the bus arrived. My mind started wandering towards the happenings of the last two weeks. Everything had been a blur. I wondered for the umpteenth time whether I was living in a dream, and when I wake up, everything would vanish. But I knew without pinching myself that I was indeed in reality. And I had some serious work to do.

Everything had started during my flight two weeks back. I was excited about traveling in a jet, because I had never been air-borne before. Add to it the excitement of a new place, new country, and new-found freedom, and you have got a hyper-excited guy. It was supposed to be the beginning of an important phase in my life. A ticket to all my dreams. Higher education in the United States. The first leg from Chennai to Brussels had been smooth. I got a window seat, and there was this pretty Indian girl sitting next to me. There was a mutual unspoken understanding, which meant we ignored the existence of each other. I tried not to sit too close to her, as much as possible, and she tried the same too. No problems whatsover. I was perfectly fine with the arrangement.

Trouble started during the second leg of the flight. After a one-hour stop at Brussels, it was hardly fifteen minutes after take-off towards New York, when she puked on me. It was so sudden. I didn't know what to do. I kept staring as she kept on vomiting on my shirt and my brand new pair of jeans. I tried to react by avoiding the path of flow, but it didn't help. In the matter of seconds, my clothes were ruined. She looked at me with a look I could only classify as apologetic. I still didn't know what to do. She spoke first.

"I am so sorry. I don't know, I have been feeling sick for the past two days, and now this turbulence during take-off. Before I had time to control it, I just vomited. I am extremely sorry."

I kept glaring at her. But the gentleman I was trying to be I told her, "It is okay. Are you feeling okay now? Do you need medical attention?"

"Oh no, I will be fine. God, look at how badly I have soiled your clothes! I am so sorry! I feel so bad I did this!" she moaned.

Actually she looked kinda cute when she said that. But I tried not to show any emotion. I just said, "No it's alright. I have a couple of tees and some pairs of jeans in my cabin bag. I guess I will just change and come." Saying that, I stood up and tried to retrieve my bag from the overhead compartment. I felt that a lot of people were looking at me. But I tried to ignore them, and concentrated just on taking my clothes from the bag. When I finally managed to do it with some help from the girl, I rushed to the rest room and changed. My clothes were stinking from all that liquid.

to be continued...

Images in the rain

2009-08-02T09:50:00.005-04:00

It had been an unusually hot afternoon. So, it was no surprise that it grew dark and cloudy by late evening. With hardly five days left to start, I had to get a photocopy of all the important documents. But by the time I decided to step out of my home to do my task, I started to drizzle a lot. Therefore, I went back home, ditched my plans of going to the photocopy shop by my bike, took an umbrella and decided to walk all the way. Not that it was too far away. It was hardly a ten minute walk.

I had hardly walked a few blocks away from my home, when it started to rain quite heavily. I had the documents safe inside my shirt pocket. The road I was walking on criss-crossed one of the many slums in Chennai. It was amazing how rain causes different reactions from different persons. People who had so far been sitting on the roads and chatting aimlessly, rushed inside their respective shelters. A nearby tea shop, which I had noticed as always empty before, was teeming with customers. The shopkeeper appeared to be thanking his lucky stars, or rather, his lucky clouds. I had every reason to believe that by the time I would come back home, he would have earned enough for at least a couple of days.

A little further down the road, another shopkeeper looked as if he had been completely shattered. And he had every reason to believe so. He was dealing with construction materials, and it seemed that he had no time at all to prevent all his cement stock from getting wet. So, there he was, looking completely lost and sat staring at all the wet cement bags from inside his small and dilapidated showroom.

As I walked a little more, I saw that a lot of people had left their motorcycles on the road and were seeking refuge from the rain near the entrance of a small temple. On one of the bikes was written 'Masha Allah'. Well, rain knows no religion nor caste, does it? A small kid was riding his bicycle, enjoying cycling over the large puddles of water. I envied him, for he had no worries about tomorrow or the day after.

The rain had become heavier, and soon there were strong winds too. I positioned the umbrella in a position that would counter the effect of the wind, but it didn't prevent me from getting completely drenched. I had completely forgot that my documents were still inside my pocket. I rushed inside a nearby ATM, and took them out slowly. All I recovered was shreds of paper. Amazing isn't it, how rain can affect a person's life so much.

A very funny story

2009-07-03T00:01:00.002-04:00

I just found this story on the internet when I was browsing casually. Thought I could share it here. The author is unknown.

Rajinikanth was bragging to Jayalalitha one day, "You know, I know everyone there is to know.

Just name someone, anyone, and I know them."

Tired of his boasting, Jayalalitha called his bluff, "OK, Rajini how about Tom Cruise?"

"Sure, yes, Tom and I are old friends, and I can prove it" Rajini said.

So Rajini and Jayalalitha fly out to Hollywood and knock on Tom Cruise's door, and sure enough, Tom Cruise shouts

"Thalaiva! Great to see you! You and your friend come right in and join me for lunch!".

Although impressed, Jayalalitha is still skeptical.

After they leave Cruise's house, she tells Rajini that she thinks Rajini knowing Cruise was just lucky.

"No, no, just name anyone else" Rajini says.

"President Bush", Jayalalitha quickly retorts.

"Yes", Rajini says, "I know him, let's fly out to Washington".

And off they go. At the White House, Bush spots Rajini on the tour and motions him , saying,

"Rajini, what a surprise, I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in and let's have a cup of coffee first and catch up".

Well, Jayalalitha is very shaken by now, but still not totally convinced. After they leave the White House grounds, he implores her to name anyone else.

"The Pope," Jayalalitha replies.

"Sure!" says Rajini, "My folks are from Germany and I've known the Pope a long time".

So off they fly to Rome. Rajini and Jayalalitha are assembled with the masses in Vatican Square when Rajini says, "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope."

And he disappears into the crowd headed toward the Vatican. Sure enough, half an hour later Rajini emerges with the Pope on the balcony. But by the time Rajini returns, he finds that Jayalalitha had a Heart attack and is surrounded by paramedics.Working his way to Jayalalitha's side, Rajini asks her, "What happened?"

Jayalalitha looks up and says, "I was doing fine until you and the Pope came out on the balcony and the man next to me said, 'Who's that on the balcony with my thalaivar Rajinikanth?' "

The trip to somewhere

2009-06-07T23:07:00.002-04:00

The bus finally screeched to a halt by late evening. We were starving. It had been a nine hour travel, with no stops in between. The roads had been terrible, and the bus equally pathetic. All of us were suffering from backache, and we badly needed food and some sleep. We set off in search of a hotel.

We started walking along the crowded and noisy road that seemed more likely to have a hotel. Though we were going to spend the night in the house of Sanjay’s distant relative, we decided to eat outside because we thought it would be too much to expect from a distant relative.
The so-called town market consisted of not more than a couple of streets. And it was nearly empty. There were shops of all shapes and sizes, right from the vegetable selling old woman on the road to the quite big electronics shop near the bus stand. But one thing I was happy about was there were more mobile phone shops than any other kind of shop, as I was worried whether there would be network coverage in such a small town within the interiors of Tamil Nadu.
After at least five minutes of tired and slow walking, we decided that we had come the wrong way in search of a hotel. We were just about to turn back when Ketan cried out as if he had seen something very scary. Then we saw it. In the complete darkness, almost hidden from view, was a sign – ‘Hotel Ashok Pure Veg’.

We proceeded towards the entrance of the hotel. When we looked inside, there was not a single soul sitting and having food. There were a couple of waiters sitting idly in one of the tables, but not even one customer. I was having second thoughts of going in to eat, but it was Akshay who pushed us in (which he paid for dearly later). A guy passing by, noticing that we are entering the place had a look on his face which said. “Where the hell are you people going?”

The moment we entered, the waiters jumped into activity. We took the table nearest to the entrance. It looked a pretty decent hotel, and looking at the menu, it was quite cheap as well. But we decided to play it safe, and ordered a couple of parottas each. Amazingly, the food was ready within 2 minutes, and it was deliciously hot and spicy. We were thrilled, with the very low expectations we had of the place, we were more than satisfied. We ordered more, and ate till we had enough food in our stomach for at least a couple of days. We tipped heavily, and left the hotel wondering why it was deserted. We didn’t have to wait too long.

Some 15 minutes later, we reached the relative’s place. Sanjay introduced us to his uncle.
“Uncle, this is Akshay, Ketan, Karthik and Naveen.”
“Hello uncle.” We greeted him in unison.
“Hello boys. You want to eat something? Dinner is ready.” His uncle asked us.
“No thanks uncle, we already had our dinner in a hotel.” It was Naveen who replied.
“Hotel?? Don’t tell me it is Hotel Ashok!”
“Oh it was the same hotel uncle. The food was really great!” Akshay replied.
“Really? Oh fine then!” But his facial expression didn’t seem fine at all.
“What is wrong uncle?” Sanjay asked him.
“Well I don’t know how to put this. Ten years ago, the hotel caught fire and all the people inside, including the owner and the waiters were charred to death. Since then I have heard some people say they had seen ghosts at night. May be it is true then.”

We stood speechless. The first thing we did was to rush back to the hotel. But there was none. Only the ruins of a burned-down building.

The Lilliput

2009-03-05T08:07:00.002-05:00

Saturday, July 11 2009

It was nearly evening when I reached Senate Hall where the specimen was to be kept for display. The place was crowded with so many people such that it looked as if there was a carnival going on. The excitement was understandable. The discovery was amazing, almost next to impossible.

Before this, people had discovered fossils of new dinosaurs, a few Jurassic age insects, and stuff like that. But a new species that resembled Homo sapiens, preserved in an amber fossil? Too much to resist. The media had given full coverage of the discovery, with every news channel and newspaper in the world making it their headline. It was even nicknamed ‘The Lilliput’ by The New York Times. Being a biologist myself, it was quite hard to believe that such a species should exist. But the news was released only after a dozen genetic tests had been conducted by the best genetic engineers in the world. It was indeed a new species. Quite astounding.

After moving past the huge crowd at the entrance, I entered into the heavily guarded hall, thanks to the visitors pass given to me by my good friend Roberts, who was one of the engineers who did the DNA tests. I learnt from him the full details of the genetic makeup of the organism. It closely resembled the human genome, with about 99.9% similarity, he had said. I also learnt that it was planned to name the new species Homo lilliputiens. And it was a male. As I entered the hall, the first thing I noticed was the heavy air-conditioning that was in place, because I started to shiver in the cold. The hall was filled with scientists from different parts of the world discussing about the latest sensation to hit science.

I searched for Roberts, and after a brief search, I found him talking with a beautiful young female scientist. As soon as I went near him, he saw me and excused himself from her and came towards me with a face with worry written all over it. Before I could ask him what was wrong he himself said, “The specimen is alive.”

I couldn’t believe what he said. It was impossible. An organism preserved inside an amber fossil, alive? But before I could voice my protests to him, he caught my arm and took me inside a heavily guarded room at the back of the hall with a powerful laminar hood at the entry to remove the dust and microbial particles from the visitors' body. The door led to a room that was dimly lit, with a couple of armed security men standing guard. In the centre of the room was a glass hood with the specimen inside it. The room was more heavily air-conditioned than the hall.

I heard Roberts say, “See for yourself”. And as I approached the hood, I could make out a miniature organism inside the amber fossil. When I finally reached the hood, I saw it. It was indeed a miniature human. The face was distinct, with eyes, nose, ears and mouth clearly visible. It also had the limbs of a human. But it wasn’t moving. It was as still as if it were dead. A couple of ultra-thin wires were connected to its limbs. The wires led to an ECG which was showing read-outs. It was indeed alive!!

“How is it still alive??” I asked

“That’s a good question. The problem now is we don’t know if the organism is safe enough to humans. Actually we tried killing it as soon as we knew it was alive. We tried all the methods that will instantly kill a man - poison, high voltage, and all other stuff. But it is still alive. That means it is almost immortal.”

“What do we do now? What have you guys decided to do?” I wanted to know.

“We plan to postpone its display to the media and the scientists by another month. And we transfer this to a high security storage area and study it more closely. We don’t want the world to know that it is still alive.” He said.

I just couldn’t speak. The enormity of the situation was astounding. I just stood there watching the Lilliput. It was clearly a man in miniature. As I stood watching it, suddenly many things happened at once. It started wriggling, as if it wanted to break free from the amber fossil. Suddenly the amber cracked and the organism fell out. Then, it started shivering and shaking and then everything stopped and it became still.

Sunday, July 12 2009

It was almost noon when the report came. Roberts studied it for a moment, smiled and handed over the report to me for me to read it. I wondered what was amusing in it as I studied the report.

“After the autopsy, it is clear that the organism died of oxygen poisoning. This can be possible because the atmosphere in which it lived was almost devoid of oxygen and was predominantly carbon dioxide. So, as soon as it got exposed to the high oxygen concentration environment, its respiratory system failed and it died instantly.”

Valentine's day

2009-02-14T07:30:00.001-05:00

My first attempt at 55Fiction:

She watched as her love crossed the road and came towards where she was sitting. She knew he was going to propose today, the 14th February. He looked tense. Understandable.

"I wanna tell you something."

"Yes?" She waited for the three words to come out of his mouth.

"I am gay."

The Story of Muthu

2009-02-07T00:16:00.005-05:00

Muthu was an ordinary individual. He was as ordinary as you and me, and all other ordinary human beings in the world. Muthu was a trader. He was always honest, and never tried to cheat any of his customers. He wouldn't even think about it. All his goods were of top quality, and so all the people flocked to buy his wares. He sold them very cheap, and so didn't get much profit. He, therefore, still remained a poor man, since the earnings were hardly enough to feed himself and his family of a wife and two kids.

Muthu had beautiful hair. It was pitch-black, long and wavy. Though many other men in his town had started to lose hair by his age, he still had thick hair. His hair was his pride, and dearer to him than anything else in the world. He spent almost two hours each day taking care of his hair.

Years went by. Muthu still remained a poor man, even though he had a lot of customers. But he never increased his prices, since he never wanted money. But one night, just when he was about to sleep, he noticed that there was a stranger inside his bedroom. He got scared, and was about to raise an alarm, when the stranger spoke.

"Don't get scared. I am your friend. I am here to help you." The voice was sweet and mesmerizing. Muthu lost all his fear and started believing that the stranger was one of his best friends,
"Why do I need help? I am happy now. I don't need anyone's help." Muthu told the stranger.
"You are wrong, Muthu. Look at you. You are still in the same level you were years back. Don't you want to improve your standard of living? Don't you want more money?" he whispered in the same silky voice.

If Muthu had been in his senses, he would have instantly said no. But the voice was so mesmirizing that Muthu started to think. It would do no harm to anyone if I had some more money, he thought. And said yes.

"That is good. Now do as I say." The stranger told Muthu all that he needed to do, and Muthu nodded his head to all of it like a faithful dog. The very next day, Muthu raised the prices of all his goods. The customers were shocked, but most of them took it in their stride, since all the goods were of excellent quality. Some of them, stopped coming to his shop, sensing that greed had at last taken over Muthu. He started to earn more, and soon earned enough to buy himself a bigger home and a two-wheeler.

But he noticed something queer. He always had very thick and black hair. But he started losing some of his hair, the month he raised the prices. Though not by much, but he was still very worried about it, and hoped they would stop.

The stranger returned again one night.

"I see you have done well." he told Muthu with a smile.
"Yes. I have earned quite a lot. I think this is enough for me and my family." Muthu told him.
"Fool. Who would take care of your children when they grow up? Now listen to me."

Once again, the mesmerizing voice instructed Muthu what all he needed to do. He still nodded his head like a faithful dog. The next day, he started adulterating all his goods. He tampered with the weights and almost everything he could tamper with. He started to earn more, but the customers stopped coming to his shop one by one due to the decreasing quality of his goods.

And interestingly, he started to lose more of his hair. He started worrying more and more about it, and he lost more hair. And before long, he lost all of them, and became bald.

He could live no longer, since he lost all of his hair, which was dearest to him. He decided to ask the stranger, but he no longer came to visit him. He got irritated and frustrated, and decided to ask God about it. And the only way that was possible, was to kill himself. So he committed suicide.

He saw himself going up towards the skies. He flew across the skies for many days, and finally saw the gates to heaven. There was a long queue in front of him, and again he had to wait some days before he met God himself.

"Who was that stranger who talked to me?" Muthu asked eagerly.
"Oh, that was the Devil himself. " He replied.

Muthu felt ashamed that he had listened to the devil. Now he was sure the devil took his hair.

"And is that why I lost my hair?" Muthu wanted to know.
"Ah, for that you must have visited the doctor, or tried an anti-dandruff shampoo. You had dandruff." God replied.

I am a Snake

2009-01-15T12:05:00.004-05:00

My pleasant salutations to all the human beings out there. My name is Raven, and I am a King Cobra. Yes, I am a snake.

For all those intelligent humans out there who think we snakes cannot communicate, I am here to prove all of you wrong. We may lack a ear to hear stuff, smell through our tongues, and may lack the ability to talk in various languages like you humans do. But we can still communicate, and it is by far the best mode of communication that any one of you can even imagine. But I will come to that later.

I was born as one among many children to my lovely mother. I say lovely because she took good care of me and my siblings, until we were old enough to hunt on our own. She taught us how to fool our predators by feigning closed-mouth strikes. We learnt how to respect our predators like the mongooses, which are very experienced in dealing with cobras. I was the quickest to learn to use my venom to attack prey and predator alike, but my mother cautioned me to use it carefully, since she reasoned along with great power came great responsibility.

I used to be scared of shedding my skin, especially in my young age, when I used to do it frequently. I had to choose a lonely spot for the same, which was difficult, even in the thick forest I used to live. But as with the others, I gradually came to get used to it, and it became less painful when I learnt from my mother that it was good for my health.

All was fine, till one day, when a group of strange two-legged creatures entered the forest. The moment my mother saw them coming, she began panicking. I learnt from her that the creatures were called humans, and were by far, the deadliest predator of all. She also warned me that I should never bite or poison them, for reasons other than self-defence. But alas, tragedy struck, when one of the humans stepped right on top of my tail, and though I knew that he had no evil intention in his mind, in a fit of rage, I bit him, and injected my venom into his leg. I realized my mistake at once, but it was too late. I had to scamper for cover, as all the other humans came to the victim's rescue. and started searching for me. But I was too quick for them. I thought I had escaped safely, when I saw that my mother was just returning back from her hunting, and she was too slow to spot the mood among the humans, her age depriving her of the most important weapon for survival. She was beaten to death, and skinned right in front of my eyes. That was the most horrible moment of my life, but I still prayed for the recovery of the human I had poisoned.

Now I will come to the point which I made earlier. Yes we snakes can communicate. Through our minds. It may sound unbelievable, but we can read minds. We can also send signals to other minds. It is the most effective means of communication. For example, I knew that the human I bit had no evil intention because I could read his mind. My mother got killed because her communication was weak. She couldn't read the minds of the humans properly, and also couldn't cause fear in the minds of the humans. Yes, fear is imparted by us. That is why, while some people actually love us, some really loathe us. That is a feeling that is caused by us. We transmit fear when we feel that the mind is corrupted, and and tranmit love when we feel that mind has genuine care for us. This is how we communicate.

I am in fact, transmitting all these thoughts to one hapless human, who was sleeping in his bedroom, peacefully. I have manipulated his mind such that he will write this down as soon as he wakes up and publicize this. Yes, I need this to be read by as many humans as possible, since I want to ask forgiveness from the human I had unreasonably poisoned. I am indeed very sorry for what happened. I hope you are now hale and healthy. But I also request you not to kill another innocent snake like my mother. It is no use taking revenge. After all, we all want peace. This is one request I want to make to all my human friends. Fear us or love us, but please don't kill us.

My photo courtesy: Wikimedia Commons

When money flies...

2009-01-07T10:04:00.006-05:00

"So, where shall we go?" my eldest sister, Radhika, asked no one in particular. "I suggest we go to the beach. And have nice hot onion bajjis." my younger brother Mukund, a die-hard foodie, replied. "Shut up, Mukund." It was Vindhya, my second sister. "Why don't you try thinking about something other than food?" "Oh Vindhya, stop teasing him." Radhika managed to prevent yet another fight between the two warring siblings. Being born as one among four children in the house, has its own share of advantages. For one, you can always enjoy watching the fights that always occur among the others. Being the third of the four children, I was the most peaceful and silent of the four. Not that I wasn't naughty, but I was smart enough to make sure no one noticed it. The particular discussion going on was to decide where we could all visit for the new year. "How about a movie?" I finally decided to open my mouth to speak. "Movie? Which one?" Mukund asked. "Vaaranam Aayiram. No other movie is worth watching for now." I reasoned. "Oh come on! I just saw that last week with my office colleagues!! It was Radhika. I had completely forgotten that she had gone out with her office friends to the same movie the previous week. "So what? We haven't seen it yet! So it will be Vaaranam aayiram." Vindhya delivered the judgement. But the discussion didn't there. Radhika was completely opposed to it, and wanted to go Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi instead. But after a lengthy debate, which included a majority vote in which Vaaranam won by 3 votes to 1, she finally conceded. I was chosen to buy the tickets, since every other person had some other work to do, and I was the only one who was jobless. "Here, have this five hundred bucks. Buy it and come soon." Radhika handed over to me a crisp new five hundred rupee note. I took off in my bike straight to Satyam Cinemas. I hoped there would be no crowd for the tickets, since the movie was quite some days old. I parked my bike and went to the advance ticket booking counter, but to my dismay, the whole place was flooded with people. I couldn't even see if there was any other movie to which tickets were available. I decided that it was no use waiting at the counter, and turned back to the parking area. Just then, I heard a voice. "Hey boy, want tickets?" I turned to see who it was. It was a middle aged man, around 40 years old, wearing a dull grey shirt and black trousers. "No, thank you." I didn't want to encourage black-ticketeers, lest to be caught my police in mufti. "I'm not selling tickets in black, my boy. I had bought some tickets for my family for new year day, but we have decided to go somewhere else. That is why I am selling these." I didn't know whether to believe him or not. He looked like a pretty decent man, so I decided to try him. "Ok, how much?" I asked him. "Let us not talk here. It is not safe. We will go outside." he told me, and started walking towards the exit. I followed him. He entered a by-lane adjacent to the cinema hall and finally stopped walking. "How much?" I asked again. "The actual cost is hundred rupees. I will give it to you for hundred and twenty five. I have four tickets with me." he told me. "That is unreasonable. I am actually doing you a favour by buying these tickets. Either sell them to me at the cost price, or else I am leaving." I made myself clear to him. "What is this, my boy. You are being very miserly. I thought I could atleast recover the fuel cost for my motorcycle. Ok, I will give it to you." he told me. I was relieved, and was happy that I could get the tickets without standing in the crowded queue. I imagined myself bragging about this to my sisters and brother. "Ok give me the four hundred bucks. I will give you the tickets." he said. "No, show me the tickets first." I wanted to confirm. "Ok here have the tickets. Let me have the money." I handed over the five hundred rupee note to him. "Hey, I don't have change. Don't you have four 100 rupee notes?" he asked me. "No, I don't." "Ok, wait. I will go to the nearby shop and get some change." So saying, he entered a shopping complex, as I waited outside. I made sure he was within my eyesight. I saw him enter a shop. I waited patiently, but there was no sign of him. I started to panic, when he didn't return for five minutes. I decided to enter the shop, and started walking towards it. But as soon as I entered through the door, I knew I had been cheated. Cause it was no shop. It was just a passageway to the other end of the road. I double-checked if at least the tickets were genuine. But the moment I saw the date, I knew I was the dumbest person in the world. It read 01-01-08. It hadn't struck me that the year should be 09, instead of 08. I entered the house with a sad look on my face. Radhika noticed it first. "Hey what happened? Didn't get the tickets?" she asked me. "No, I lost the money. I had kept it in my shirt pocket, but it isn't there now. Think it must have flew out of my pocket when I was riding the bike." Image courtesy: http://farm1.static.flickr.com/175/426982475_278f4100d0.jpg

The Rainbow (Part 3)

2009-01-02T09:16:00.004-05:00

If he was the head of The Rainbow, Stephen was its face. He was, by far, the most popular among the six. He was the best among them, and crowds thronged just to watch him. Most of the money therefore was collected due to Stephen's charisma. But the celebrity status slowly and steadily got to his head. And therefore one day he announced to his friends.

"I am moving to Hollywood. One of my friends is a director there, and he said I had great potential to be one of the best actors in the country. I'm leaving The Rainbow for good. I hardly get any recognition here."

So that was it. Even after much persuasion by the others, he refused to change his decision. He left, and since there was no more Stephen, there were no more crowds. However innovative they made the script, there were hardly any people to watch it. They even tried a couple of new actors in his place, but none worked. And there, the end started. The people moved on to better things, and quickly forgot The Rainbow.

As for Stephen, he got to act in a couple of scenes in a B-grade movie, and that was it. There was no news of him for a long time. They later learnt that he was found dead in one of the streets, and he had died of starvation. They shed tears for their dear friend, and a very good stage performer.

He forced his mind to come back to the present. He continued speaking to his friends.

"I have decided that we will have one last show. That will be tomorrow evening. It will be the end of The Rainbow. We divide whatever we get tomorrow among us equally, and part forever, my friends. Is this fine with all of you?"

No one spoke a word. The talk ended there, and the rehearsals for the last play began. The play was aptly titled 'Rainbow's Ending', written by Noel Greig. The rehearsals continued till late at night, and then they all dispersed to their respective abodes.

The day quickly passed, and the time to start the play arrived. They hoped that at least one spectator to turn up, but there were none. They waited for audience, but for half an hour, there was none. He decided that they would start the play, with an audience or without. Just as they were about to begin the play, a man entered the old hall. He wore dirty clothes, and had himself covered with a tattered rug. They couldn't see his face, since it was dark.

"I am a beggar. I have no money," he spoke in a coarse voice, "but I thought I can watch the play."

They didn't object, and were actually happy that there was at least one person who was going to witness their last play. They started the performance.

It was an astounding performance. The play was a very emotional one and it was portrayed well by all the five men. If only there were people in the audience, they would have all been in tears. The lone man clapped at the end of it all. The lights were turned on at the end of the play. They then saw his face.

"It was really an excellent performance, my brothers!" Stephen spoke. "It reminded me of our old times, when I was alive and was one among you. I tell you, there was not one day after I left The Rainbow, that I didn't regret my decision. But I couldn't just come back and join again. I thought you wouldn't accept me again. How wrong I had been!!"

The others couldn't believe what they saw and heard. They stood dumbstruck to talk anything. But Stephen wasn't waiting for a reply. He continued.

"I was up there, listening to all of you speaking about today being the last play. I couldn't afford to miss that, can I? I have already missed you people more than anything else. So, I decided to witness it. Now as I have seen it, I am at peace. I ask for your forgiveness, my dear brothers, but I have been the result of your downfall. Please forgive me. Lord be with you."

Before any of the five could react, Stephen disappeared into thin air, right in front of their eyes. And there was darkness again.

Image courtesy: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1357/790656725_a3c6ae5eb0.jpg?v=0

Related posts:

1. The Rainbow (Part 1)
2. The Rainbow (Part 2)

Arte-y-pico!!

2009-01-01T09:27:00.003-05:00

Surely a wonderful beginning to 2009. Ranjani, who writes on 'The Voices Within' has presented me with the Arte-y-pico award, which roughly translates to being conferred as 'The Best Art'. I would like to thank the gracious lady rampantheart for giving me this wonderful award, which is my first one. :) I am truly honored!

Now, I have to present this award to 5 other bloggers, who I think, deserve this award. I think I will limit this to three, and two of them have already been presented this award. They are:

Meghna

Matangi

Macadamia

Now it is the turn of these three wonderful bloggers to pick 5 other people who they think deserve the award. And remember to link to the Arte-y-pico blog, display the name of the person who awarded it and their blog, and also links to the blogs they are conferring the award upon. And hey, don't forget to display the award!!

Wishing everyone peace, happiness and prosperity for 2009 and beyond.

The Rainbow (Part 2)

2008-12-29T10:35:00.006-05:00

For those people who missed reading Part 1, please click here to read it.

The old, run-down building was a sharp contrast to the modern and elegant ones surrounding it. The fading light enhanced its eerie feel. A large, bright hoarding placed right next to the building caught his eye, which proclaimed the release of a latest Hollywood flick that was supposed to hit cinemas soon. Damn Hollywood, he thought to himself, as he entered the building.

The door let out a loud creak as he entered the hall. The four humans and the three cats (which had blissfully made the theater their home, happily chasing away rats) inside the hall stood up. He smiled as he glanced at each of the four men, who had dedicated their lives to The Rainbow. The men looked at him with anticipation. He had promised them that he would reveal his decision that evening.

"My dear fellows!" he spoke loud and clear. "As I had promised to you, I will now reveal my decision about the future of The Rainbow, for which we had worked day and night for so many years."

The air thickened with more anticipation as he continued speaking. "We have been together as a family for more than ten years. We have shared our joys and sorrows, and we have passed by the highs and lows together. It is an open secret that we are now in deep debt, and however optimistic I was about the improvement in situation, I have now been hit hard by reality. Frankly, I don't see the situation improving. I admit that we have no option, but to abandon all our hopes."

He had tears in his eyes. He was sure that the other men were sobbing silently too. The Rainbow was like their baby. They had nourished it when they were young, watched it grow, and sadly, also saw that it was now dying. Its lifetime was over.

He couldn't help going back in time, when The Rainbow was flourishing. Though, in the beginning, people were skeptical about it. But as word spread about it, the crowd started coming in. People came in from other cities to witness it. Money started pouring in, and all the five were rich, happy and famous. They built huge houses, bought the latest cars, and enjoyed like there was no tomorrow. Amidst all their happiness, they didn't realize that nothing lasted forever.

to be continued...

Image courtesy: http://rubbersuitstudios.com/dmdss/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/100_2831.jpg

Related posts:
1. The Rainbow (Part 1)
2. The Museum Mystery (Part 1)

The Rainbow (Part 1)

2008-12-27T11:13:00.004-05:00

The air inside the room carried the odour of a dead rat. Not that it mattered much. That was all he could afford. His troupe had been in dire straits for the past ten years. But he was forever an optimist. He always told them that there would be a miracle. And there would be money. Though it all sounded encouraging then, now it seemed a lot hollow. But he still had hope, and he still hoped for that miracle to occur. May be not today, but tomorrow perhaps.

He locked his one room apartment and started walking. It was a very cold December evening, and he had no winter clothing except an old rugged jacket. Though for the first time he wore it, he was numb with cold, he was amazed at how he felt warmer as he got used to it each day. The road was almost empty, and wet. No one wanted to leave the comforts of a warm home to come out in the cold. As he walked, he passed by a huge house, guarded by heavy gates, which seemed almost like a castle. Memories came gushing into his mind, it always did when he passed that way. The house was once his abode.

But that was nine years back, and after that, his dwelling place became smaller and smaller, until his present one, which had only one room. He could hardly pay the rent for this one too, but the house-owner was an old friend of his, who didn't mind letting him stay there free of cost, as its rent was lower than the tip he gave his chaffeur daily in the evening. But as a man who prided his self-esteem more than anything else, he somehow managed to pay his friend the rent on time every month. He always told the others that if given an option between a hundred room bungalow and the one-room apartment, he would always choose the latter as that was all he needed. But no one ever gave him that option, so no one actually got to verify his statement.

As with any living organism, food was his major worry. Last month, he had sold the last piece of gold he had for a handful of dollars, which he sensibly deposited into his bank account. It paid for his bread and butter till the day before, and now again, he was penniless. Not that it was the first time in his life that he was in such a situation. He always believed that somehow, he would one day become as rich as he was once. But how that somehow would happen, was a tough question.

He slowly marched towards his destination. He was briefly distracted by a stray dog that was feeling quite cold, and thought it could share his jacket. But he shooed it away. He had once suffered from cynophobia, but that was quite long back. After all, being thrown to the streets does have its own advantages. It can relieve people of all their phobias, since they would be experiencing exactly what they fear, everyday. He now considered dogs as a mere nuisance, which he could always get rid of. He had better things to do.

to be continued...

The 26th

2008-12-25T22:17:00.002-05:00

No, no this is not my 26th post (though actually blogger displays this as my 26th in my dashboard, since I haven't published 4 other posts yet). This is about the date, the 26th, which I surmise from what I found is the unluckiest number for India.

I had this doubt ever since the Mumbai blasts occurred on November 26, 2008. My mind immediately went back to the tsunami, which also occurred on December 26, 2004 (I witnessed it firsthand in fact). So I did a bit of research on this, and what came up is really intriguing.

I will now give a list of tragedies and mishaps that have occurred on the 26th of a month.

November 26, 2008- Mumbai blasts and terrorist attack
July 26, 2008- Ahmedabad blasts
May 26, 2007- Guwahati blasts
July 26, 2005- Mumbai floods started
December 26, 2004- Tsunami
January 26, 2001- Gujarat earthquake

Each of these tragedies has caused widespread death and destruction in India. So is 26th really the devil's number for India? Should we be extra-cautious on the 26th of each month?