Sunlight

There was a carpet of green stretching for miles.

He breathed in the pure cool air and set off. Feet crushing the gravel under them. the rhythmic sound almost lulled his senses and the cool air invigorated them again.

Not to mention the visual feast of green stretching out in front of him. He tore the ipod speakers from his ears to let the sounds of mother nature smother him with their attention. The sky had streaks of clouds and there was an orange glow of the rising sun on the horizon.

the gravel path stretched out with big oaks flanking both sides. "Paradise might look a bit like this" he thought in his head. There was no one on the path and the world seemed unadulterated, beautiful, friendly.

His breath started achieving a rhythm as his feet moved themselves by now. Although, they did start feeling a bit heavy after a while.

"Gotta keep this going regularly" he thought wistfully knowing well enough that he wasn't a morning person.

Nevertheless, shortcomings aside he was enjoying himself. his lungs thanked him cacophonously for bringing them there.

The the path meandered through the grassy knolls moving up and down gently, curving slightly to the left and then straightening out. The gentleness of the environ relaxed him even more. His rhythmic breathing continued as he neared the middle point of the park. The lower branches of the trees gently brushed his hair as he jogged past them. As if to feel the presence of a friendly soul and bestow nature's blessing on him.

"Why are not there such unmolested places back home..?" he thought wistfully.

"The best parks look like an apology!"

Up ahead he noticed a young family, a small child running on the grass oblivious to his parents call - the joy of a million worlds glowing on his face. His Father ran after him laughing at how rapidly his son's small legs could carry him.

It was a sight that could warm even the coldest hearts. He stopped jogging and just sat down on the grass. All around he saw - a sea of green met his eyes. Far away in the horizon, the green ended where the blue took over; giving way to ochre and gold as the Sun rose majestically into the sky. He felt the warmth of the Sun on his face and lovingly closed his eyes to the experience. A sweet satisfied smile swept across his face.

Just then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see the small child standing next to him his golden curls shining in the morning light. He looked like a little angel wanting to play. He was laughing and pointing at him and at the Sun his eyes wide in wonderment.

The child obviously understood and deciphered much more than him. He was enraptured with what the child was trying to convey to him. He would point to him, then at the Sun and say "He..." bunch up his little hands in a fist and touch his heart. It was divinity personified.

His Father came and picked him up asking him not to trouble other people.

"Oh! That's all right! He is so cute! I'm fine thank you." He responded with a smile. The Father smiled back.

He picked himself up, looked at the Sun once more thoughtfully.

"A profound experience..." he thought as he made his way home.


The picture is of 'Ravenor Park' where i go to take a Jog everyday.

The Scourge of Stock Images

Stock images.

Yes - also the name for those ugly images of random people doing idiotic things like flailing arms while wearing office clothes to reflect whatever challenges faced at work. It is singularly ghastly to behold these people performing these amazing acts purely to perpetrate some loser creating a presentation. I would surely much rather prefer images created in photoshop or any other image creation tool. But depart hastily from resorting to the use of stock images.

A brilliant example is what i came across recently when trawling through the website of a big retailer. There was a couple - assumed - smiling widely - nay - almost tearing-their-mouths-up while looking at some electronic device. I could only wonder as to the reason for this display of dentistry. Perhaps they were exceedingly glad at buying a mobile phone together - however - it nowhere near licenced them to bare their fangs at the camera.

But my unhappiness is multiplied when i see another women grinning in the same dastardly fashion while staring into space contemplating where her next meal is going to come from. And that is my grouch!

There are no emotions in stock (sic) photos. It is akin to watching clothes being draped on mannequins. They stand there nonchalantly while men (helpers you sicko!) grab various parts to create just the right pose.

But i Digress.

What i mean is instead of using images of people that look like they walked out of Madame Tussuad's waxworks - use real people - I for one would connect with your message instantly!

Heavy Artillery

“Well, what have we here...?”

He thought for the umpteenth time.

“There’s Shyam, Viru and…” he thought

“… and Rekha…”

“Aaah, Rekha…” and he was lost for half an hour.

Rekha was the new office goddess - to be succinct. She had just joined the floor some days back.

To be verbose – she was the sublime beauty that ruled the hear t of many a men on the floor. Many had laid down their lives willingly for this Apsara descended from the heavens. Raghu was one of them. If he was a cat, it would be his seventh life right now…

Rekha – with the golden tresses (bleached) and never ending eyelashes (fake). With the flowing fingers and creamy skin (original). With the voice that stirs the soul and brings forth a melody that invigorates the senses (debatable).

Raghu’s heart ached.

“That bastard Shyam, I really want to kill him” he thought. Shyam had managed to pip Raghu in wishing her a ‘good morning’ today.

“He even called her ‘Sunshine’ bloody characterless pig!” Raghu was livid.

As is evident, Raghu was pretty much in love with Rekha. So were Shyam and Dinesh (some insignificant guy) and Viru.

Rekha on the other hand favored only Raghu and Shyam to a certain extent. There was a power struggle between the two.

“Viru’s small change. But fun to have around” she had thought socialite-ly once. Work wasn’t boring – no – not for Rekha and pretty many other people on the floor.

The floor belonged to Symmetrix – One of the ubiquitous BPO’s that had many employees in Navi Mumbai.

__________________

Shyam briskly walked in. he had perfected this art from his mentor. His mentor had told him – “Shyam! To be successful and make an impression – you don’t have to work hard! All you need to do is to dress sharply and look important – even if you want to talk to your girlfriend, talk in a highly animated fashion. Like you are discussing the deal of the year…”

He had told him many other things as well but they are too complicated to get into right now.

So Shyam strode in. he did not walk. He did not glide. He strode. Striding was his signature style. He sidled towards Rekha even as Raghu’s eyes screamed murder.

“Hi sunshine…” he began pompously.

“Hmmm…” Rekha replied, her boss had evidently given her work. Or so Shyam thought. He was leaning nonchalantly on the cubicle wall. He could not see what she was up to. But given her fierce concentration – he was sure it was important. He deflated.

_________________ 

Viru had just pinged. “Ah! Viru…” she thought.

“He is so clever with his words…so very entertaining”

She gave a slight sniff…

“A strain on the eyes though…” she smiled with the evil thought.

And a very interesting chat conversation ensued – the details of which shall always be shrouded in mystery. If older folk with reserved sensibilities only read what Rekha was capable of writing on chat – they would balk and those with artificial pacemakers would collapse. And suddenly there was Shyam perched atop the cubicle wall in all his grinning glory.

“And here’s the strain on the brain…” she thought to herself and gave her characteristic little sniff.

Shyam kept grinning for a while and after he realized that Rekha wasn’t going to look up - sidled away. This was not the way he hoped to be treated! After all he reserved his ‘Sunshine’and the ‘the thousand watt smile’ (a.k.a the grin) routine only for special people!

“No matter…” he thought.

“Time for the heavy artillery…” and he sidled off to the nearest shop to buy a gargantuan collection of flora that could inspire Rekha to start a second hand florist business.

__________________

The eyes were watering by now and Raghu had to blink. He was joyous that Shyam was given the short end of the stick, but was highly disturbed owing to the smug expression that now rested on the face of his sidling adversary.

“Evil man has a plan…” he thought.

It took some highly sophisticated sleuth work of making a phone call to the pani puri wala standing outside that Raghu came to know what Shyam was upto. It horrified the living daylights out of the poor soul.

“OMG! She will be his… OMG! She will be his… OMG! She will be his…”

The floor witnessed a profusely sweating and incoherently muttering Raghu make a beeline towards the supermarket. He had to do something!

“Time to bring in the heavy artillery…”

Any self respecting man adequately proficient in the art of wooing women would have easily guessed that Raghu was going to buy chocolates.

__________________

Viru was sweating as well. Rekha had mysteriously stopped responding on chat. This was unlikely. For eons (2 days) she responded with a ‘Hiiiii’ and a smiley. But no more. Viru’s linguistic skills were not upto the mark??

“No no no no no …” he rubbished the thought with a smattering of negatives.

“Time to bring in the heavy artillery…” he thought resolutely.

Viru ignored the gossiping les miserables and swiftly embarked upon stringing apparently similar sounding words together in order to create a poem that could – he thought – bring her back to chat. His heart would twitter merrily even as the window would ping with her lovely messages. Although - sometimes she could be deliciously nasty as well.

If only all this resolve would be directed towards work – Viru would have been floor manager. But again – that’s speculation and a more conducive environment minus Rekha.

Speaking of environment – the rest of the species (less fortunate females) spewed ugly venom whenever they were not within earshot of the girl. They imagined and indulged in downright Neanderthal discussions regarding her character and demeanor.

Viru’s heart ached – he wanted a look at sublimity. He leaned backwards (he could see her cubicle). Horror of horrors – she was talking to somebody on the phone and curling her hair with fingers!!!

“This can’t be – it just can’t be…”

He looked around wildly for his adversaries. Shyam and Raghu were nowhere to be seen. He shifted uncomfortably on the other cheek. She was apparently oblivious to the instant poem that he had created. In fact, she was packing up for the day.

“Oh for the love of God, she’s going without even looking at the poem…”

Viru fired up the printer but then indulged in some virtual coaxing by uttering sweet nothings to it after it wheezed and died on him. He did not waste an instant and pulled out his trusty pen drive to get a printout and show his labor of love to the love of his life.

“Where’s Viru off in such a hurry?!” thought Rekha as a hyperventilating Viru dashed out right in front of her looking very psychotic.

She click – clacked on the floor towards the elevator. There was nobody since she was leaving a little early because of the phone call. (Ahem Ahem)

She descended gently onto the ground floor and click – clacked her way towards the sliding doors of Symmetrix BPO.

From nowhere three vortices emerged with a frenzied energy. One looked like a bedraggled bouquet holding wilting flowers, the other holding five squelched chocolates and waving them about in an aphrodisiacal manner. And the third waving sheaf’s of paper with literature on them adept at wooing cows.

She smiled kindly at all of them even as a Beamer pulled up near her. Dinesh (the insignificant guy) stepped out it.

“Guys, meet my fiancé!” she trilled merrily - Again giving her characteristic sniff.

There were three loud pops

Hanuman II

A tense silence hung in the air even as the dying fire cast myriad shadows on the trees beyond. Hanuman sat still although his body was taut, the gun had begun to feel a little heavy now. The night was cool yet he felt awkwardly uncomfortable.

The stillness was deafening. Hanuman heard rustling in the undergrowth again. He focused. And, then the fire died out.

With bated breath he waited; the next few seconds were anguish. Nothing happened.

An owl hooted far away.

Hanuman lowered his rifle. Everything seemed quiet. The rustling in the undergrowth had stopped. Puzzled he got up and put his rifle on the ground. Unsheathing his knife from its holster, he made his way towards where he thought the noise came from.

He squinted in the moonlight; there was nothing that seemed out of order. The leaves seemed undisturbed and the twigs as if they had fallen right off the trees. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

Questioning his faculties, Hanuman returned to the camp.

The others were rising. There were more important things at hand. There was a caravan that was headed towards the palace; having enough resources in it for his brothers to last for days to come. And, there was not a moment to lose, it would be heavily guarded, a strategic position would be ineffective if the timing was not perfect and all his troops were not in place.

Tehmul came running. A lightly built buy of fourteen, he was quick on his feet and nimble to the extreme, only Hanuman could rival Tehmul in his agility. He loved him like his own son.

Tehmul was panting from running hard - "They come..."

Hanuman cast an eye towards his troops, they were milling around, all of them waiting for his instructions. He gave a low whistle and the men quickly stationed themselves at premeditated positions.

The area he had earmarked for attack was located on the oft tread path that the Englishmen used to ferry goods. It was located in a clearing that was a respite from the dense jungle. The clearing was surrounded by hills on all sides with sheer walls. This is where Hanuman stationed his men for a surprise attack. The bad light and mist would be a silent cover to the attack. The enemy would not know what hit them.

He and Tehmul were themselves perched atop a cliff that faced the clearing. They lay hidden amongst some bushes where they could see the path emerging from the woods.

The lights of the caravan shone through the trees. It made its way slowly. Tehmul saw the scout approach into the clearing; he was atop a white horse and was holding a lantern.
Hanuman was getting up. He had selected the spear much to Tehmul’s surprise.

“It feels just right…” he answered Tehmul’s questioning look.

He took three powerful steps and heaved the spear into the air his muscles rippling from the strain.

There was a whoosh of air and the spear disappeared into the black of the night. A moment later it found its mark. The Scout dropped limply from the horse - that bolted frightened.

Hanuman was already making his way down the cliff in a flash. An unsaddled horse would have the Englishmen swarming through the jungle in no time. He was running through the shrubs his eyes riveted on the   creature that was bolting wildly.

Tehmul watched as Hanuman drew parallel to the horse and gracefully caught his reigns even as he swung over the running horse to calm him down. He spoke softly stroking the white mane of the Beast.

“Quiet my dear, quiet…”

The animal fell silent. Hanuman understood animals better than he understood humans.
Nature - his Mother had taught him many things.

“Kali is most kind…” he thought to himself looking up at the star spangled sky. There was a low hoot which he recognized as an all clear signal.

He made his way to the caravan where his men had done a tidy job, Tehmul at his side.He made a quick headcount, something was amiss.

"Where's Macchindra?" he growled. The others looked around.

"Check his gear, he should be here!"

A sinking feeling gripped Hanuman's stomach as he recalled the event earlier that night...

To be contd..

Hanuman I

It was a thought at first.

A slight tingling of the nerve that manifested itself into something larger as time crept by – Violence; it seemed; was a part of him now.

He had seen his mother shield his sister from her father, crazed with madness and liquor, he used to batter his family every day. As he grew older – he realized that It was more of his shortcomings that their father vented on his family. He was supposed to be the provider to the family – instead he was a failure. The failure to do anything worthwhile led him to bouts of anger and rage. That were vented on the family.

It was most unfortunate. He sat on a log, lost in thought – wisps of smoke blowing around him. The beedi was a warm reassurance in the cold dense jungle. The cold metal of the rifle slung around his shoulder was another. The others slept peacefully. But the cries of his family while their house was burned down by the local goon were enough to haunt him for the rest of his life. It had jarred him out of his sleep on more than one occasion. This had caused him enough anguish, he had not slept since then unless fatigue would completely overtake him and he would crash suddenly. This had earned him the nickname of Hanuman by his brothers in arms.

He looked at his watch, only an hour to go – he thought.

The jungle had become reassuring now. It was always the jungle that reassured hanuman whenever he was disturbed or angry. He would escape the severe battering of his father and run away to the jungle to try and escape from life itself.

A strange calmness enveloped him as the hour drew closer. It was familiar, he was aware of his senses being in a heightened state as the hour for action approached. Years of living in the jungle had attuned his senses to even a slight shiver that was out of place. The jungle could be your worst enemy if you didn’t respect it – it would finish you. But, if you get to know it better – it could prove to be a trusted friend. He would always tell this to youngsters that were freshly recruited.

And a friend it was – hanuman heard a twig snap in the silence of the night. It was ever so slight that an untrained ear would have hardly noticed. But, no – not Hanuman. Nothing escaped him. He quietly swung his rifle towards the noise even as he stealthily picked himself up off the log and knelt down on the soft earth in a firing position. The Beedi remained in his mouth - a reassurance.

The fire crackled and hissed as Hanuman wished he was sitting behind it. Anyone approaching could make out his outline. Or anything.

There was no other sound, the hissing logs that were nearly consumed by the flames and Hanuman’s own breathing – which was steady. He was ready. Ready for whatever was in the vicinity.

But – nothing happened. There was no further sound. The fire was about to die out. Hanuman realized whatever was in the shrubbery was waiting for the fire to die out. If that was the case – it had to be an animal…

To be contd...