The blazing fire ball had drowned into the sea, like every other day, aftering itself out into a red giant ball. Kaaka, for a long time, used to wonder who or what threw this ball up into the sky from behind the mountains. His curiosity got the better of him; he flew up in the sky. The moment he flew higher than the mountains, he realized that there was nobody behind the mountains; he saw that the fire ball came from far away in the east.

Those were the days when Kaaka was new to flying high and used to get tired quickly, struggling too hard to stay afloat and eventually falling on the ground with a thud. Nothing much has changed except for him giving up sooner, avoiding the struggle and the painful fall.

Sitting on the rope, watching the vast sea and these featherless animals chasing the ball, Kaaka was reassuring him. The ball, unlike the giant one that drowned before the dark, was beaten up by these featherless animals but it never tried escaping. He wondered if what he has planned could be called escaping.
He was waiting for the darkness to engulf the shore. He had his plan in place; he would fly away over the sea and to another land across the sea. He would meet new people out there and come back flying with stories to share. This whole idea of  travelling across to another land was in place because it had made his father a hero. The stories his mother told him seemed fresh as he sat waiting to conquer his fears and find his glory.

As the story goes, his father flew across the sea to a land that was unheard of and some place nobody else had been to. Travelling on the ship’s mast and then flying across the vast ocean he reached a land unknown to and unheard by many.

His father returned after a long time, he had taken up the life of pilgrim and therefore he refused to accept his mother and him as family. He loathed his father but nonetheless he was hero for many, he had stories about the land far away. He had to prove, and not just to his father, even to others that he was not just one amongst them but he was worthy and worth the respect he never got.

He was seeing lights of hope as the darkness engulfed him and the tiny ball went away with the featherless animals, which were until then trashing the life out of him. Such are the strange ways of the world around him, he thought.

Random Thoughts

Posted: October 28, 2012 in The Thoughts

Her warmth and her words, her silent prayers for each day I live. Her smile as she walks past me, leaving me behind with a promise to come back. Her gentle touch as she holds my hand and walks with me through this journey called life. My woman, I haven’t known love more than I have known her.

Unlike the past, broken and lost
Stood by the door, hurting most
She left it open and left alone
No reasons why but she was gone

Neither an option, nor a choice
She was my soul, lost in my voice
Blame, hurt and pain for now
Not sure why for I kept my vow

Wish to walk back in time
To kill this painful rhyme
And walk away from her
To find my rhyme unlike this.

So one of my house mates, the beautiful (now a celebrity after her debut as an actress in the Malayalam cinema) Dominica Mencel has planned to go back to her country, well she is Polish. Oh yes I live with two white chicks and a brown man (I am darker shade of grey so have to respect the superior race or some shit like that). We have a beautiful house, thanks to our beautiful landlady Parvathy Janardhanan.

So to the story, Dominica informed me that she is leaving Kochi this weekend and so she wished to cook dinner for us, also wishing to spend the evening with us. We were game, even after having known her for a long time, because we still have that rush of excitement every time we talk to these white chicks. (Blame the Porn effect or Pron as Varun-the brown guy often pronounces). I was unnaturally sad and soon realized that I would miss some of her funny questions in her beautiful accent. When I say funny questions, I really mean funny. To cite an example “What are you doing with your coconuts?” in a heavy Polish accent that emphasized so much on the nuts. The only thing you can do is to stare at her in disbelief.

So this sadness had to be overcome and so I decided to give her a surprise or more like buy some cake for ourselves to eat after the delicious dinner she had promised.

So, while at work, I call up one of these Bakers and ask them to prepare a cake and make sure that the cake is completely white. The conversation

Me “Please make sure that the cake is completely white”

He “This will be the best cake saar”

Me “Thank you and also, I want  ~Good Bye Hot Chick~ Written on it”

He “Just a minute, let me write it down”

Me “Sure, it is ~Good Bye White Chick~ and put that in red”

He “Got it, just come and collect it by 10:00 PM”

Me “Yes, I will but do you want me to send you ~ Good Bye White Chick~ in an SMS”

He “Whaaat sir? You will get the best cake tonight”

Well that was an assurance and sounded very promising.

So she cooked the food and all of us were sitting together about to have dinner, suddenly the Promising Baker calls me up and tells me that the Best Cake is ready.

I jump off the bean bag and rush to get the cake. Tell them that I have to meet a friend; the usual Tanya (the other white chick) comments come pouring down on me for being rude and asocial. I ignore her ramblings because she happens to be one of the closest people I am with and I know she can be ignored if and when needed.

I drive to the baker’s and see this guy standing there, he didn’t seem very promising. I tell him that I am the guy who has come for the ‘White Chick’ cake.

The cake is packed in a box and with a plastic knife stuck on it. I am impressed but out of excitement and curiosity I ask him, if I can see the cake before I take it home. The guy nods and cut through the thin tape and opens up the ‘Best Cake’ to me, I am not so sure if words can describe the disbelief

This is what it opened to

I am not sure what I was supposed to do; I took the cake and left because they were waiting for me. I wasn’t sure about the reception I would get back at home. I knocked the door and Dominica was happy to see me bring a cake. Tanya was surprised and Varun appreciated the gesture. I asked them to open the box. The only thing I remember is Tanya and Dominica bursting out into a nonstop laughter. It turned out to be the Best Cake Dominica had ever had in India and Tanya has got something to pull my leg for. As for Varun and me, we will go back home today and finish the White Cake sorry the Best Cake.

The Short Stories.#55WordStories

Posted: July 28, 2012 in The Work

In an excitement he rushed out of the examination hall like every year
to celebrate his summer freedom, forgetting how this excitement had
orphaned him last summer.
Eyes still closed, he wished she was gone. Love they made the night before was
still hurting his soul. Total strangers lost in lust and impulsiveness. As he
opened his eyes, he realized her absence and the void.
She knew they would leave her there, amongst many her age, until she was no more.
They told her it was for her own good, to be taken care of and to be safe when they
are away. Uncertain she felt for this new home that seemed like a sanctuary. Protected
yet not her home.
Silence was echoing in the darkness, anxious for they knew it was bound to happen. Nothing
but his touch broke the silence, love was made. No words were uttered but sounds of passion
filled the darkness. Legs wrapped around, lips against skin and they sighed together. Tired
and once again they found themselves in silence.
Watching this child sitting across her in this slow moving Train, she felt nostalgic. Her
life was spent studying, understanding and helping them grow. The mother smiled and said
“He cannot hear, he is deaf” and with a smile she replied “I understood. I am a teacher
for specially gifted children and I Train them”
She was in love with his words ~ She pursued him for his anonymity ~ He kept away for his own reasons
~She was determined ~ Love happened ~ He unlike his stories turned out to be shy and silent ~
She felt betrayed and she questioned him~ He smiled and answered “They were stories”

Thanks to Vivek and his #55WordStories

Out of boredom and curiosity I thought of reading through her tweets; it was just another exercise of mine. I wasn’t following her and I had no intention of doing so. Another handle, another woman, another human stuck in #140 characters and a lot of similar ideas crisscrossing my mind.

So, reading through her tweets I decided to go further and check her blog and that did the trick. I read through a couple of her blog posts and found them to be simple, meaningful and honest pretty much similar to what she seemed to be on Twitter. The blog was bookmarked and forgotten, so was the handle. Almost a month later, I saw her on my timeline through a retweet and this time it was her DP that got my attention, her almost hidden face, flowing hair, eyes that seemed to make you believe there wasn’t much pain around and she was just beautiful. Once again, I went through her tweets; they were mostly simple opinion, jumbled thoughts and random instances crowded in 140 characters.

Following her wasn’t much of a problem but the growing fondness for her simplicity, honest approach and the beautiful DP was irresistible. I liked her and before long I knew I was ‘crushed’. Have been following her for some time, should say a long time and have grown out of, rather pushed myself out of that crush.

I was not sure what kind of a person she could possibly be and didn’t see a point in perceiving her but then this

And I cried yesterday, when the whole world was rejoicing the dawn of new year, new opportunities, new joys. 


I cried for the things that are bottled up inside, hurting me, getting accumulated year after year and just making me as stale as the year that went by. I cried for the opportunities lost, relations lost, feelings killed and some wait that never ended. I shed tears for the desires that were never fulfilled and people who never understood and lastly I cried for myself, for I have reached that stage that no decision here is no decision ever.


………………………………….. I will hold these memories close to me but I will now release all the desires, expectations, hopes.”

 These words made me go through her posts, tweets again and made me ponder the kind of person she could be. Life is beautiful and so is its ways, I was looking for some PR opportunity and eventually got in touch with her, she thought she could help so gave her a POC and it was forgotten. Weeks later I got a message apologizing for her inability to help me and I knew it was her, the innocent and honest human being that she was.

I spoke to her and she sounded like a person who could be honest with herself if not anyone else, an almost impossible feat these days.

I am not sure if the crush that I had for this beautiful woman has survived the time but for now I like her and she holds a special place in my random poignant thoughts.

An Uncertain Friend

Posted: May 5, 2012 in Uncategorized

Learning has always excited me and more than that it was the vast knowledge and those wise people that kept me in awe (read disgust) of my own ignorance. Anup Joy is one such person who has added to my pain of ignorance and the joy of learning. I was new to this company, learning the culture and the tricks and trades for survival, when I met this guy. Not just me but anyone who meets him for the first time would assume that he is a Doctor, well that friendly doctor who would rub you wrong to treat you right. I can reflect at the conversations I had with him over the last two months and, to me, it seems like a classroom wherein I learnt a lot more than I thought I knew. I have come across a lot of people who are mature, understanding and particularly the ones who are excellent communicators which helps them to win too many fans but unlike them this guy tends to provoke your brilliant ideas, tease your stagnant thought process and push you to prove yourself. You might feel the urge to overlook his opinion and move on with your life but his communication skills and his ability to understand your fucked up ego/ complexes/ low self esteem will prevent you from ignoring his blunt yet honest opinion. I am writing this not because I have something to share with him or to show my gratitude but because of this stupid urge to write/share about people who have added to my life, like I always did. The thin line of difference between arrogance and smartness is what this guy tends to play around with. His down to earth nature, gentle convincing smile and the thought provoking sense of sarcasm is well complimented by his honesty towards himself; if not anyone else. I am not sure if he lies, I don’t see a need for him to do so, and so every time I walk up to him with doubt and particularly when I am confused I know I am going to get the most honest opinion and that helps me to analyse where I stand amongst the debris of confusion. This stupid yet beautiful connect that I feel with this random guy whom I have started admiring for his ability to make me understand myself has a certain beginning and for some reason I call him my uncertain friend. Like they say, People who happen to you are the ones who last long. *fingers crossed*