He stood watching the "Just Married" sign fade away into the distance. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned around to walk, only to see his room mate leaning on a lamp post and watching him closely. With a razor-sharp smirk the latter said, "Failure is not as frightening as regret."

Tears, idle tears.
Long has the moment passed
But linger does the pain -
Cold, stinging and metallic.
I now live and die in every breath.
Your portrait with my heart's dye
Lies unfinished. Memories haunt me
Seeking sense of your absence.
Tired of the meaning, my words seek silence...

It happened one night..

The darkness only added to the pain of running over sharp stones and pebbles.
Judging by the dampness and slight slipperiness underneath my feet, I knew they were bleeding. Sharp stumps thrashed my legs and thick branches thrashed and cut my face and shoulders in the darkness. But the fear and grief in the heart were like whiplashes which kept me pushing ahead.

My chest was starting to burn like a cold flame - or was it like a blunt knife sinking slowly into the skin- fatigue, fear and memories of horrifying scenes blinded the senses. For how long I had been on this steep climb, I knew not.

A few moments later, the general placing of the stones on which I stepped indicated that I was moving towards a less steep and less wooded place. The climb soon turned to a slope. Peering through the scant general skylight, I made out the faint contour of a lake or a marsh. The surroundings were also not entirely invisible. The water was mostly covered in mist; yet it had an eerie bluish glint in the haze. Darkness in the form of trees was a littler further away and the sky took the shade of grayish blue. I finally felt soft grass underneath my torn slippers. Almost immediately, my knees bent and I plopped on the ground, exhausted.

Taking time to calm my breath, I tried to make sense of what I saw around me. There was deathly stillness all around with no animals growling, no owls hooting, no insects chirping and no wind blowing. Nothing but my labored breath was to be heard. But the silence could not calm my mind.

It was like a cyclone in my head. It was pure agony. All hope was lost. We lost the Great War. The white men crushed us mercilessly. No one survived the attack on our platoon and neither did I expect myself to be alive. This would have been worse as there were stories of how the captured prisoners were being tied to the mouths of cannons and blown away to parts. The plains were full of bodied of my compatriots and awash with their blood. Playing dead here and there in the midst of the wailing injured to escape the roving eyes of the firangs was not easy.

Running away from the battlefield was cowardice but then why stay if the outcome was already decided? Our commander did not seem to be fazed by the slaughter all around. It was evident the enemies had bought him to their side earlier. Traitorous pig! We were the soldiers of the great Rani, whom even children looked upon as Durga incarnate, and we were her leonine forces. Well, not I, for I was just an ordinary cook in the army. I never even got to see her or any of her exploits but she was always the Destroyer of Evil for me.

When I heard that she had fallen dead in the battlefield, then I lost all hope of victory and then decided to escape. On the way, I heard that her body was missing and no one knew where it had gone. How was that possible? Maybe they have cremated her body before it reached into the hands of the alien rulers. Doubts still lingered, and despair seemed unending. If she was dead, then why live?

Suddenly, I heard some movement in the water. The splashes were distant but were quick and came near very soon. Through the mist I then made out a huge animal trotting forward. Immediately recognizing it as a horse I also saw a ghostly figure wrapped in cloth riding it. The horse chortled and agitatedly stopped near me. The figure was sitting upright and motionless with head and face covered but the eyes shone with an unearthly light that transfixed me to the spot. I could not move a muscle as terror had overtaken instinct. The eyes looked at me and I could not remember whether I was alive.



“Are you from the plains?” the figure suddenly asked in a female voice.

Surprised at the somewhat anticlimactic turn of events, I was still cautious and ventured to reply, “That depends. Who wants to know?”

Immediately, the figure pulled away the cloth covering the face and the head. Through the faint light, I saw a cascade of jet black hair tumbling down to the shoulders. The face was bloodied but the eyes were still shining intensely.

The voice then responded with an unmistakable touch of royal authority.

“Don’t you recognize your own Rani?”

“Of…Of course, yes, yes, Your Majesty!!” Life soon clumsily pulled me up to my feet and I stood in attention, with bent head, folded hands and downcast eyes. I had let her down.

It was an electrifying moment.

Surprise, incredulity and excitement had robbed me of my breath and my pulse was throbbing like war-drums. I felt numb. The surreal moments passed by as I apprehensively looked into those regal eyes. They spoke unknown mysteries.

I could see the color of the sky slowly turning lighter. Dawn was approaching. But the radiance of the bloodied face only increased. Suddenly, her hand flew up to her neck. In a flash, it came out with a string of shining pearls. Bending down she pushed it into my folded hands before I could react.

“Speak not of this night” she said with a razor-sharp smirk which lit up her face and galloped away into nearby darkness. Stillness returned.

Overcome with goosebumps, I stood trying to comprehend what had happened. Dawn was slowly approaching. I saw the past and the present merging with the future. The future may be uncertain, but history was being created at every moment.

But then why was I feeling this shaking of my shoulders? It was getting more vigorous. I could hear my name being called out as well.

A sudden jerk and darkness turned to light as I found myself sitting on a chair at my study desk. Vinod, my roommate, was bemusedly looking at me.

“Studying late last night, eh? And History too...Bookworm!” He gazed into the book and then at the drool coming out of my mouth and grimaced. “Ewww!! You were drooling at Rani Lakshmi Bai?? You’re crazy, dude! Get a life in the present! Time for breakfast. I’m hungry!” He walked out of the room closing the door.

Still groggy, I looked back into the book and saw the picture of the great Rani. Though just a painting, she still looked hauntingly mysterious and also had that cryptic smirk So that was all a dream then. Shaking my head, I pulled myself away from the table and stood up when I felt something fall off my lap to the floor. I looked down and the whole world before me turned dark when I saw:

Karan gets the budget... (With due apologies to a certain Pranab Mukherjee)

There was bickering that morning and hissing
In the Finance Ministry; for the budget plan
For the country was suddenly found "missing"
From the Minister's computer."Without the plan
What will we do?" the Officials shrieked,
"Where will we go?" the secretaries screeched,
While in all this midst, the peons stood afroze.
Though Roy and Paul and Bunta and Feroze
Pulled their hair and boiled their juice,
The budget plan proved to be a recluse.

Gloom spread in the office when suddenly,
The Minister Babu walks in nonchalantly.
Digging inside his nose he says, "Don't stress.
It's true that without the budget plan the country's a mess.
But I'm calling Karan to the office.
Take heart; with computers he's a whiz."

The peons stare at the tattoo while the typist
Winces at the studded lip; There's a collective hush
As Karan walks into their midst
Twirling his i Pod and sipping Orange Crush.
Though barely sixteen his credentials are impressive.
He boasts of a degree from Powai, and one more
From Princeton; so nothing's gonna give.
His skills are the stuff of folklore
From IBM to Google to Commodore.
They sing about his genius and traits
From Pyongyang to United fucking States.

Staring at the screen, cracking his knuckles
He sits down to deal with the obstacles.
Moments pass as he types an array of commands
And algorithms to search for what he demands.
Sitting back he says,"the budget plan's gone nowhere,
It cannot escape and I'm gonna search inside there."
There is magic in his fingers as he works the board,
His toil and focus on the job striking a chord.
When up to screen comes an election manifesto
Showing the smiling Minister waving hands with gusto.
A few greetings cards, a song now and then
And a soft porn video of a fully loaded siren
(While the Minister sheepishly hides behind the curtain).

There comes a shout as suddenly Karan jumps
"I've found the plan!" he cries out with goosebumps.
Cheers and Shouts of joy fill the room,
All are relieved to escape from doom.
The Minister dances and officials shake with laughter
While the typist slaps a peon who happily hugged her.
All is well until Karan's elbow accidentally hits the key "Erase"
And the budget plan finally vanishes without a trace!!

Oh, there are some nations which plan right,
And some nations which fuck up outright.
Call me rude but I ask the Minister polite
"When are we ever gonna get it right?"

In the waves...

He went to the pool that evening at 7. He preferred that hour by when all the loud-mouthed college kids who played water-polo would be gone and only a few office-goers come to swim away the day's stress. He preferred the quiet atmosphere and quieter waters. He was pleased to see that the pool area was empty except for the pool instructor. I'm gonna love this, he said to himself. He was still an amateur in swimming but was eager to hone his skills (not to mention to reduce his stubborn tyre around the waist) and relished his regular pool sessions.

Later, when he descended into the pool, he remembered the pretty lady who had swum the previous day. He smiled as he recollected her lithe form gliding across the pool like a fish. He was lingering at one end recovering from his pathetic attempt of two laps as he counted her completing eight laps non-stop. I've a looooooooong way to go to swim like that, he thought. Reminding himself that one day he too would be doing the same, he put on his earplugs and dived underneath.
Water went in and bubbles came out of his nose as he strained his eyes against the sting of chlorine. He stared into the blue nowhere and lazily took in the throbbing silence...

Tham tham thaka thaka thum tum tha thum thum....

What was that?

Sounded like the beats played on a tabla..

He forgot to swim and slowly looked around him in the immense blueness..

Tham thaka thaka thaka tham tham tham....Tha thi thaka thaka tham tham tham..

Again those notes...This time the tabla was joined by the mridangam too..

Surprised and unsettled, he came up to the surface, removed his earplugs and looked around. No music was playing. Not another sound or musical note.
He looked at the pool instructor's desk. The pool instructor sat there reading a newspaper.
Then where did those cymbal notes come from??
Chuck it,he thought. My mind must be playing tricks on me. He put on the earplugs,took a deep breath and dived in..

It was blue and misty,he thought. It was moderately cold and dreamlike,he thought. And closed his eyes.

Thaka thaka thaka tham thathajam thathajam thakida thaka thathajam tha..

This time it was louder and clearer. The unmistakable sound of table, mridangam and some other cymbals.
His eardrums throbbed with the notes.

What's this?? Why was he suddenly feeling the rush of something like an electric current through him?? In the cold water, he suddenly felt a searing heat up his spine. The beats were now becoming more haunting and enchanting. They were first like dewdrops on a flower making it fresh. They were now becoming louder, faster and stronger..He felt goosebumps and his spine tingling with the rhythm..He shook his head and kept still; lying suspended in 7-foot-deep water.

Whence does this music come?? He thought about it along with how long he could be underwater holding his breath.
Just for assurance, he went up and looked around. It was quiet once again. Only the pool instructor to be seen. No one else.

Going down again, he looked around and saw everything was suddenly white.

Snow white. Like a mountain peak.

He looked down to see a stream starting to flow down the slope.The slope stretched down to eternity into further whiteness.

Thunder rolled as the the water flowed down with the rumbling of drums and jingles. The surroundings reverberated with the robust strums of sitar and Spanish flamenco guitar.

The rhythm possessed a certain power, a force that was strong in its combat overtones, with a feel of a great current that was about to sweep down everything in its Olympian rush...

He felt the sudden rush rising up his belly, the sudden flash of exuberance...

The next moment, he moved.

He dived into the stream and into the abyss..

The music now grew louder and almost took physical form with its magnificence. He suddenly could see that the whiteness was slowly morphing into more concrete definite images. He felt a little fear, but he did not stop as he was moving with the stream.

More things became visible- rocks, peaks, clouds, trees....The stream cut deep gorges and he saw the trees on the banks dancing in the the haunting rhythm..

He could not resist and plunged head long.

He did not feel tired. He felt like Superman. He was cruising down and forging ahead like a torpedo. The stream had by now grown into a mighty river..

He saw the large waterfall coming ahead..He did not stop..

He surged..

He pushed..

He plunged..

From the edge, he flew into the calm depths down deep..

The water was then turning blue. He marveled at the giant mixing of the white and the blue. It looked like smoky clouds in the sky.. Only they were shifting and wave-like. They were a like gyre... Like a vortex.. And the haunting beats pushed him through the vortex.

There was neither here, nor there. Neither then, nor now. His eyes grew tired.

After what seemed like eternity, he saw through his droopy eyes a brown shape floating towards him. Though he felt tired, he also felt happy as he waited for the thing to come nearby. The shape soon morphed into a face. Then everything changed while he closed his eyes to embrace darkness..

When he woke up, he saw the pool instructor looking down at him with concern. "Are you alright??"

He turned to his side. He was lying on the poolside.

"What the hell were you doing there? You think you're some Olympic swimmer or what?" The pool instructor was scolding.

He slowly rose and sat up. Where was the river? The peaks? The white, the blue?....

Where was the music??

"What happened?" He asked out loud.

The pool instructor looked amazed. "What do you mean by what happened??" You were swimming non-stop and almost fainted in fatigue. I counted at least 12 laps by the time you slowed down. You looked too weak and senseless in the middle of the water and so I had to jump in." He wasn't letting up.

"You're still an amateur. Don't overdo it,okay? Take it one step at a time. Was that stunt really necessary?"

He thought about the tabla and mridangam.About the snow-white peaks and the stream. About the combat guitar and the upcoming waterfall...

"The music was good." he mumbled and smiled weakly.

When am I me???

5.00 am - 9.00 am - Age 95
9.00 am - 9.30 am - Age 27

9.30 am - 1.30 pm - Age 60
1.30 pm - 2.00 pm - Age 13
2.00 pm - 4.00 pm - Age 3
4.00 pm - 9.00 pm - Age 60
9.00 pm - 9.30 pm - Age 27
9.30 pm - 11.00 pm - Age 95
11.00 pm - 5.00 am - Who knows?? (I sleep coz I'm still single).

So how long do I stay my age in a day??