Short Series: World War III

He sat alone, looking dreamily deep into the thin flame from the candle. The gentle breeze that seeped in through the window made the flame dance. He could hear the sounds that the rain created outside. Droplets falling on the asbestos sheet that covered the neighbor’s car. The electricity had gone off because of the rain and it had been a few hours now. The heavy sound of thunder and flashes of lightning added more drama to the dancing flame in front of him.

In the quiet of the night, he could hear cars and motorists screeching on the road that ran outside his house. They all seemed to be in a hurry. They always were, he thought to himself. A smile escaped his lips. He sat there quietly; everything in that room seemed to happen in slow motion. His movements, his thoughts, the dancing flame from the candle, the smoke from the mosquito coil. The mosquito hovering around his ear seemed to have other plans. Furiously fluttering around his ear, the little thing looked like a being possessed and with a mission. The silence from the room only amplified the buzz from the little fella.

"Target found. All units be advised. Proceed with caution", said a voice, although slightly garbled, it was clear. He turned back to check where the voice was coming from. He couldn’t see anyone. Maybe it was coming from the television next door or something, he thought to himself. But there isn’t electricity. “Target locked. Eagle 27. Attack”, said another voice and before he could react, he felt a sharp needle like prick on the soft spot on his neck. ‘Ouch’, he let out a scream and his immediate reaction was to swat the back of his neck with his hand. “Target hit. I repeat. Target has been hit. All units lock on to the target”, the moment he heard those lines, he had a whole army of mosquitoes breathing down his neck and buzzing around his ear. They were everywhere. Where did they come from? He wondered and quickly took evasive action. He lit up another of those mosquito coil’s murmuring profanities about the worthless qualities of these coils. As soon as he lit the second coil, everything became quiet again. Slightly relieved he sat down on the chair and made himself comfortable. In the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny little fella creeping close towards his ear, he acted as if he didn’t see him coming and when he was close enough, he turned around and with both his hands made a clapping motion. ‘Whack’, was the sound it made and it echoed in the tiny room. When he spread his hands, he could see one of those blood sucking thingy smothered on his hands. There was blood. He took the little one and brought it close to the flame. What he saw shocked him.


There he was the little fella with a smashed skull wearing army fatigue. The mosquito had his face painted. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. Was he dreaming? This just couldn’t be. It’s a mosquito- an army mosquito. As he was still reeling from the shock, he could hear more voices, “Officer down, officer down. Kamikaze units attack”. Before he could react he saw an army coming towards him. He could see they were angry. They attacked him. His ear, neck and forehead were easy targets. There was a separate group attacking his arms. The attack was pretty intense and he did everything possible to stay safe. He waved his hands, and smacked it together, tried slapping the space in front of him in an attempt to cause damage to his attackers. He did manage to hit a group that was launching another attack. They went tumbling down. He tried to catch them, but it slid right through his fingers and fell crashing to the ground. He managed to get a radio that the mosquitoes were using to communicate with the base. “Eagle 39. Eagle 39. Do you read me? What is the enemy status? Do you want us to send more troops?” the voice on the other end said on the radio. ‘More troops?’ he thought to himself. That’s not good news he said. He had to do something to stop them. He got up and tried to cover himself with a blanket. So that he doesn’t reveal any part of his body to the enemy.

“Target has gone hiding. Seek & destroy”, those were the dreaded words. He thought it was time to show those blood sucking monsters, who the bigger person was. He was ready. He let out a loud scream and he was on his legs to try and counterattack. He began racing across the room with his hands and legs swaying and striking the air furiously. This was a calculated attack from his enemies. They were not easily visible, while there he was a target out in the open. The train outside his house came to a grinding halt at the station. The sound of the wheels on the track could be heard very clearly. Other than that, there was silence. Then it happened. The mosquitoes began attacking him and he began fighting back. What was earlier a quiet room with a candle light was now a war zone. He managed to strike down a few groups that kept targeting his neck and ear. They went tumbling down and fell on the burning flame of the candle. He could see them burn. The slight hissing sound it made when they were burnt to ashes. He felt good to see that. ‘Serves them right’, he told himself, concentrating on the others. He quietly went up to the kitchen and took the mosquito spray. He hid it in his hands and waited patiently behind the couch. Then finally when the intensity of the buzzing sounds near him increased he got up and started spraying all over the room. He closed his eyes and began swirling around the room. Diving to take cover every now and then when he saw his enemy braving the spray and still trying to attack. In a few moments it was over. No more buzzing sounds and no more attacks. It was quiet. Extremely quiet.

The only sounds in that room were coming from that of walkie-talkies that were damaged. And the flame flickering with some of the attackers still burning in them. He felt relieved. He was injured a bit in the war. His arms were swollen from a few bites and his hands had blood stains. But he had won the war and that’s what mattered. He sat down on the chair and laid back. The electricity came back then. The first thing he saw was the war zone. His attackers were lying on the floor dead, crushed and smashed. It was a huge army. He just shook his head and decided to watch some television. As soon as he clicked the remote, he felt a shooting pain on his neck. He took evasive action and slapped his neck.

“Target has been hit and nuked. Virus has been infected. Sniper to base. Sniper to base. Over and out”.

Predictions for 2009

*Drum Roll*

Ladies & Worms,

With the New Year mood out (it’s been more than 12 days now) of the way and everyone getting back to the grind of lots of work and recession. It’s time once again for HORRORSCOPE. The reason for writing Horror Scope now you may ask, well I have a lot of time on hand, no money and absolutely no work. So if you give me another two minutes, I could come up with more reasons as to why am writing this post.

So let me get straight to the point here. Take a piece of paper, tissue, bills, tablecloth, anything. Just make a note coz this is the prediction for the year. Thank me later.

*Takes a deep breath*

Pisces:
2009 = 2+0+0+9 which totals to 11 that in turn becomes 1+1 and finally adds up to 2. Ok. It’s got nothing to do with the prediction. Am just brushing up my mathematics skills. This year is perfect for that loooong holiday that you have been planning for years now. That’s coz as soon as you finish reading this prediction your boss is going to call you and fire you from the job. So, I say just pack your bag and enjoy the holiday and come back when the economy of the country becomes better or when companies start hiring again. 6 is your lucky number (that’s the amount that would be left on your bank account two months from now) and black is your lucky color. (Don’t ask me everything).

Aries:
I see water, lots of it. Wait a minute, no sorry, that’s just coz someone turned the tap on and forgot to close it. (Concentrates harder) You guys know exactly what’s going on in your life. You don’t need any funny/ scary/ serious prediction or horoscope. You were broke earlier, you are broke now and you will be broke for a really long time. So try eating at home, drinking at home and staying at home.

Taurus:
You tend to be headstrong and deliberate in your actions. Basically you don't give a fuck about anyone. Most people hate you but you couldn't care less. You will not be invited to any weddings this year, including yours. Your friends (well, sorry wrong prediction) you don’t have any friends and that’s how it will be even this year. (I just can’t stand a whole bunch of taurians) So, EAT THIS!!! You neither have a lucky number nor a lucky color.

Gemini:
I know who you did last Halloween. The funny thing is he knows it too. You will have a lot of bisexual tendencies this year. A whole bulk of your savings this year will be spent on online chat rooms and weird toys. Let the net-nanny save you.

Cancer:
You will wake up on the wrong side of the bed everyday for the next 66 days. On the 67th day you will not wake up. You have a dreaded disease that no one knows and no one can cure. Rest in peace.

Leo:
Keep saying sorry as many times as possible. People will pull you up for everything, whether you have done it or not. Chances are most probably you wouldn’t have done it. That’s coz you just can’t to save your life. You are daft, obnoxious and a complete pain in the butt. How dare you read this horoscope? Go and do your work shithead.

Aquarius:
You would be called to audition for a toothpaste brand. Not because you are a good looking model, but you are the reason why they have created something called toothpaste. Use it. Please and don’t stink up the room.

Scorpio:
You’re the type who wouldn’t have moved straight down to Scorpio but stopped and read every other sign till you reached here. You have an identity crisis and you’re also a cross dresser. Take my word and quickly replace your sister’s dress back in her shelf before you get caught. And don’t be shocked when you find your clothes in her shelf.

Virgo:
Your cell phone will explode during a conference call. So avoid conference calls through the year. Today’s going to be the day when they’re going to throw it back to you. By now you should’ve somehow realized what you got to do. Don’t go too close to a cow; it will fart on your face.

Capricorn:
The threat mail that you wanted to send your boss, well what do you know, has finally been sent. Get a faster internet connection before you plan to send that PowerPoint presentation with nude pictures of your boss with his dog. Please mask your face from the remaining pictures.

Libra:
You will have a major reconstructive knee surgery on your stomach. This is what happens when you have George.W.Bush as your role model. Avoid wearing shoes. That crush of yours that you have been thinking about all these months, well she is pregnant and carrying your best friend’s baby. Watch your back and don’t bend in the presence of other men.

Sagittarius:
You have giant man boobs that sag. Your mouth stinks like a drain. Your nails are long and dirty. Your skin has puss oozing all over. But you’re a kind hearted soul. You’re the type who likes to help old ladies cross the road but they think you’re out there to rob them off their money and they beat you with their walking stick.

What's in a name?

I say it's all in the name. I love my name and I can’t be happier that my parents have good taste. Now that I have made my thank you speech, I would like to dedicate this post to everyone in this planet (and beyond) who’ve had the misfortune of having lived and who are living with the most difficult names. This one’s for all you people. I remember reading somewhere that you are what your name is. A name is so important in defining a person. And in most cases it is the one thing that you live with all your life. In this post I shall talk about the people who I know in person, people who I have seen walking around in the schools and colleges where I have studied and a select few I have had to work with and a couple of people who I know off. I love you all I have the utmost respect for each one of you. Jijo. J. Jajan – This poor friend of mine had a name that was so bouncy and slippery and he was just like that. Short, stout and with greasy hair smelling of fish all the time. Imagine him in some exotic country where the alphabet ‘J’ is silent or pronounced as ‘H’- Hiho. H. Hahan. My god, Santa would probably like to adopt him as his personal assistant. Jetty Jean Joy Kutty - Another mallu (what is it with some mallu’s and their names) person who studied in college with me. She was very silent always. Initially I didn’t know why she was like that, but when I got introduced to her, I knew why. People always had this thing of shortening a person’s name and calling them while in school or college (even now?). Imagine how it would be to call her. Any which way you try and truncate the name; it either sounds corny, cheeky or just plain stupid. Poor girl. Latha. K. Lund – I feel so bad for you girl. In fact I feel bad for your dad, Mr.Lund. But on second thoughts, I don’t feel bad for your dad. If he had to live all his life with a name like that, he should have had some sense to not add his name as your surname. And for a girl to have that as her surname is just plain SAD. In school the teachers always had this annoying ritual of calling people out with their full name and initials while the roll call to check the attendance. No wonder you always had a proxy person say ‘Present ma’m’ in the morning. Get married or move out to a country where people don’t understand Hindi. Infant - I met this man a few years back and he was 39. And he introduced himself as Infant and I was like, Get out of here. You’re kidding me. Felt the whole time I was with him and people calling him by his name and all I could picture was this man of 39 sitting on his office desk with a feeding bottle and a bib. I couldn’t sleep for a good one week thanks to all the nightmares. I met a friend from kerala. He told me the secret behind some of the most bizarre and weird names from malluland. A couple get married, say John gets married to Jincy (Yes, Jincy is a name and I didn’t make that up) and they have a kid. What do you know, it’s a boy. Now comes the part of naming the boy. They take the first two alphabets from the dad’s name and add the first two letters from the mom’s name and voila they have a new name: Joji. It doesn’t stop there. They need to add the name of their village, the name of their street and the name of their house. So in the end the boy’s name is: Joji Kutty Thillaberambil Vincent. And by the time he learns to spell his name he is a 40 yr old Infant. A good friend’s grand dad when he was working in the US of A had a girlfriend who he just couldn’t forget. So what does the old man do, name his grand daughter that. And no wonder she is grand pa’s favorite. This helped her with a lot of pocket money and our best friend. Some more names of people who I don’t know really well, but know off: Steffi Graf, Michael Jackson, Mother Mary (I know you are devoted and all that, but how can a new born be called Mother Mary), Rajnikanth and finally Madhuri Dixit (her dad’s surname is Pundit).

Now that I have spoken about all this. How could I not mention the various Baby Mami's and Puppy Mami's in a family. I remember this very old paati in my family who was still called Baby when she was 92. It is not an affectionate name, but their actual name that is Baby and Puppy. To top this there are the chaachi's and the chachu's. Lallu's and the paapa's.  And after all the love, I just want to add this special note of hate to the person who typed my name on my voter identity card. I don’t know how in the world they ended up typing that, maybe they sneezed while typing and just didn’t bother correcting it, or maybe they didn’t sleep the previous night and dozed off on the keyboard, or maybe they couldn’t type. But whatever be the case they typed something that has made me think twice about taking the card and going to a voting booth and admitting I am in fact that person. Yes, the name on the card reads: dfhkuyhdi!!! (That little son of a…)

Huh what?

The time on my clock shows 2 a.m.

What am I doing up so late? Staring at a piece of paper and listening to some music.

All I want is you. My mind keeps saying that to me. I have no clue what that means.

I can feel the wind. It must be cold outside. I’m wrapped in my blanket with the fan switched off. I’m not about to sleep. I need the gentle sound from the fan when am sleeping.

Guitar strums and cigarette smoke. Old monk rum and drum beats. Bob Marley and Beatles.

It’s all like fine wine. The older it is the better.

Tell me, tell me, tell me.

I just want to write what my mind wants me to. I don’t think I want to stop.

The ashtray is flooded. Jimi Hendrix looks like he is anemic. Maybe he is just dehydrated. ‘Here you go, Jimi. Some water’. This might help you.

You’re such a mean old man. Oh come on. She’s a go getter. You’re such a dirty old man.

Do you think you can get away with this mess that you have created?

You’re such a mean old man. You’re just a dirty old fag.

The Big Secret

The Pavement Baba never spoke much. He believed in the saying ‘When you know quite a bit… Shut Up’. He was a man of actions. In simple words, he was someone worth watching.

With his simple dressing style, captivating smile and intense eyes, he was a nice man whom you could see while walking on 12^th Main Road. A green bag hanging from his shoulders, jeans rolled up almost up to his knees, a branded pair of sandals, packet of beedi and a book for company, the Pavement Baba was a man with just one mission- Never have a mission… though a vision might help on the long run.

Every once in a while, one can find a group of people standing around the Baba and talking eagerly. He had a knack of saying just one line which would be the answer to ten questions from five different people. Such was the power of his words. To share Baba’s beedi is like understanding the purpose of life… or Baba was generous that day… or one was just plain lucky.

The Baba had slightly longish hair that started from a rather big and wide forehead. Brown eyes and a sharp nose and a smile oh so radiating all the time. His mouth had a sole purpose, to help him smoke his beedis, to continue smiling and to occasionally speak. Food, coming to think of it, either Baba never ate or the food never liked him.

It was always a mystery as to why the Baba wore his jeans or any trouser folded up to his knees. A number of people had tried to find the secret or the bigger meaning or the absolute truth behind the phenomenon, but they always failed crashing all their beliefs.

One day while a bunch of people were sitting around Baba, a kid managed to draw enough courage and asked Baba the reason behind the way he wore his jeans. Baba quietly smiled, then lighting his beedi, took a deliberately long drag from the beedi and exhaled… Looking directly in the eyes of the kid Baba smiled and said, ‘The reason kid… is silence…a dog… and a Silencer’.

Everyone sat there mesmerized wonderstruck and confused with the response. Baba then got up from the pavement and began to walk. That’s when the group of people gathered there understood what the Baba had meant when he spoke those words.

Baba limped his way across the street with a huge burn oh his leg. ‘ It’s coz of all the energy’ someone commented, ‘No, it’s coz of the endless hours of meditation’ someone said, ‘I’m sure it’s because of all the beedi he smokes’ another person barked, the kid who was silently observing all this slowly said, ‘It’s because of a dog and a silencer’.

Baba turned around from across the road and smiled. ‘True Son. True’, he said softly and limped away into the darkness.

Do beedi ka samay

I have tried to understand the concept of time for a really long time now. After all these years, I have realised and come to a conclusion that such a concept doesn't exist and it's just a term. My interaction with people from different nationalities, origin, race, and color has given me a better understanding about this term and also helped me a great deal in my research on the theory of 'Do beedi ka samay'.

This theory is a revelation in understanding the behavioral pattern of the human species. Why 'Do beedi ka samay' you may ask?

While working closely with the tribes of Tippasandra, Bandra, Byappanhalli, Kuniyamuthoor, Sundakamuthoor, Kalasipalayam, Murgespalya, Lal Chowk, Subhramanyapuram, Kovilpatti, Kuppakonamuthoor and a lot of other palyas and puthoors, the one common factor that I have seen is Beedi. Everything starts and ends with beedi. 'Hey, come. Sit and have a beedi'. ' Am sorry to hear about your mother. Here this is a special beedi'. Beedi before you go to sleep and beedi immediately after you wake up. A beedi with your chai and a beedi while you work. A beedi in the hand and a beedi tucked behind your ear for future consumption. So, talk about time with these beedi idolizing crowd, time is also measured in beedies. When I explained one of my concepts with them, a wise old man after taking a deep drag on his beedi said, 'Do beedi ka samay'. The gathering said in unison, 'Do beedi ka samay', and there was a loud roar. I was offered a beedi as a token of appreciation.

The wise old man's words kept haunting me for a long time. 'Do beedi ka samay', he would say, while smoking one. His voice would echo in my head. He would also have an evil villanous laugh. The laugh kept getting louder and louder as the days went by. One night while sleeping, I heard the again. The laugh was loud and haunting. I woke up startled, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. I couldn't take it anymore. I got up from my bed. The tribal mosquitoes didn't like it either. They wanted my blood and I wanted answers.

I walked aimlessly as far as my legs could take me. I couldn't continue like this. Aimless, lost, confused and haunted by the wise man's words, I was losing it. My legs gave way and I fell to the ground. I don't know for how long I was unconscious. A hand was trying to push me. It was shaking my fragile body. 'Sirji, Sirji', I could hear a mumble. I groaned. With great difficulty I opened my eyes. The sun's rays were piercing through my eyelids. I shielded my eyes. After what seemed like ages, I finally managed to get up and sit. My head still aching, my legs bruised and bloody and the voice of the old man still loaded in my brain. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to leave. I wanted...

'Sir ji, Doctor saab ko humne bulaya hai. Woh do beedi ka samay mein aajayenge'. I got up. My eyes popped on the floor, when I heard the man say that. I took my watch and saw the time. It said 6:20 am. I began to wait. Did he mean the time from when he said it? Did he mean from the time he saw me unconscious. God. It was too much to handle.

I was looking at the watch. I was looking at the man. He smiled a reassuring smile and lit a beedi. Ah, first beedi, I thought. He took a deep drag, spoke to me and the others who had gathered around me and then let the smoke out. He stubbed the beedi after that with his fingers. Oh, No. That's one beedi down? I wondered. But instead of throwing the beedi down, he placed it behind his ears. He began to write something on the sand, squatting while he did that. You always smoke a beedi squatting, that I learnt from the tribals, which a french friend of mine still practices till date. After talking to the group for an additional twenty minutes, he took the beedi from behind his ear and lit it again. This he continued leaving regular intervals. Till finally the beedi was over. Ah! Am I getting to understand something here? Maybe, just maybe I was getting closer to the elusive secret behind 'Do beedi ka samay'. I looked at my watch. It was 7:20. One hour for one beedi. That's it. I had cracked it. I had finally cracked the secret behind the wise old man's words.

I was hysterical. I was elated. I was going insane. I got up from the ground and started jumping, screaming, going red on my face. Tears swelling up in my eyes. I held my hands over my eyes, buried my face in my palm. I cried. Like a baby, like a mother who had just given birth, like a father during his daughter's wedding. I cried for another beedi ka samay.

As I looked at the puzzled, quizzical faces around me, I began to smile. I looked at the wise old man who had come while I was crying. He was glad to see me smile. I looked at him and said, 'Babaji ek beedi milega?'.