Sid-O-Scope

When God bleeds, sharks gather.

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 18 May 2013 03:02:03 PDT

According to the blog in Washington post, racism in India is very prevalent. You can see the blood red colored India very prominent on the map. This story was just mentioned as a passing remark over a coffee table with a smirk, 'Yeah its India, no one cares about race, but they do care about is caste'.

It is extremely true about caste system prevalent in India even after almost fifty years of Independence. People still considered other people from schedule tribes and caste as dirty or disgusting. Reservations in education, jobs and by some unconfirmed election butter promotions, has added more to this feud. The number of people who hate other people based on their caste has definitely increased ten fold in the last fifty years. Earlier it was based on some ambiguous religious text, now it is based on medical seat availability.

In a normal world any political party getting riddled in scandals popping up faster than rabbits can make babies, will lose the local elections but Karnataka proved this wrong. How did Congress win the Karnataka polls is a question more important than the question of Doctor Who? Some say minority appeasement, some say it was prejudice against ruling BJP.

See, Congress winning the election is definitely not the problem, no, India is a country of 1.2 billion people. Having 400 corrupt and snake oils salesmen in this grand country is not a big deal, having a billions of corrupt money is also not that a big problem.
The biggest problem cropping this country, sitting there on the border of everything. A thin shade of gray living on the edge of everything.

The real problem is, this 1.2 billion people do not want to stay with each other. They refuse the acknowledge the fact that we are into this together. We all are miserable, we all are in deep trouble. See, here is the problem, most of these 1.2 billion people are trying to sink others boat. They say they are chosen, giving arbitrary reasons like caste, religion, race or birthplace. The problem is, there is only one boat.

We all started together and we are journeying in the same boat.

It is the boat that is sinking. Sinking deep into abyss, sinking without faith, sinking without life guard. The government is struggling hard to stop the ship from sinking, yes they are, but are incapable of doing so. Here is the biggest trouble of our times, it is not that we do not have better politicians, it is just that we don't want to believe in those.

God is bleeding, faith is collapsing. Faith in the republic of India is sinking and along with it blood gushing out from the minds of people. When there is blood in the water, sharks gather for dinner. Its a full feast for all sorts of sharks gluttony, greedy and gross sharks. The country is headed towards a boiler plate, tolerance levels are falling below acceptable.

The founding fathers knew this, they realized this. They used the medium of television to pass on the message. 'Mile sur mera tumhara' the song that is known by heart to every kid born before the year 2k. The song is still etched in our minds and most of you are singing it in tune right now. But here is the thing, there is no unity in diversity left in this country anymore.

The warning signs are all there. People want to be superior to each other using the same colonial mindset that gave Indians massive inferiority complex for almost 150 years.

Unity is collapsing, don't act surprised if North Indian boys are booted from a shared auto in Chennai to give seat for locals because that should be normal. Unity is hanging by a thin hairline thread, the whole nation is still surprised when accusations of spot fixing riddled their favorite religion of cricket. They mourn together when their favorite thing is riddled in scandals. Because if not for cricket, the thoughts come back. The colonial mindset kicks in, they cannot sit next to each other.

We are into this boat together, and whatever anyone may say, this is a one big circus, going somewhere. How many will reach there only time till tell.

Smokes, Mirrors and other Normal Stupidity

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 03:11:43 PDT

"Its all smokes and mirror," screamed an oversmart audience to the magician on stage. The magician looked at the over smart spectator and said, "You sir, will join me on stage for my next act."
"As if," said the over smart spectator.
"And for my next act," the magician said, "I am going to make this man disappear."
"As if," the over smart spectator said.
He was told to inspect the box, which seemed fine.
"I am going to expose your trick," said the sceptic.
"And now ladies and gentlemen for the magic," he asked the sceptic to step inside the box, "Abracadabra..."
Puff, a big ball of smoke surround the box. Someone coughed.
The box opened and the sceptic was not seen anywhere. Encore, claps, claps, Once more, once more, screamed the audience.
Everyone was too busy to notice the sceptic walking outside the magicians tent counting money in his hands.

India on an whole is a funny country. You are walking down the street minding your own business, usually wearing a nice pair of boxers or eating a bunch of boiled peanuts and suddenly, out of blue a random stranger pops out wanting to have a detailed description of the choices you have made in life and give his opinion about them.

I am still looking for the ten strangers who had detailed interest in my life since childhood.

There could be a rape going on in the house next to you but that's normal, either because the girl is married to the man, arranged by her own relatives or she would be a painted or dented girl who deserves it. No that is not the pressing issue at the moment. If they don't like it, they can commit suicide, an option that saves dignity, honor and a lot of electricity.

No matter how many people jump off the tall buildings of IT companies, which are built on the land whose original owner was a farmer that incidentally committed suicide a few years back. But that's normal, because government says it's normal. Infact it is so normal that anyone saying it is not normal is shot by cops.

The cops, they are also normal, considering the fact that they believe rape is another myth like the boogeyman and honest politician. They are sure there is no rapist under the bed of any girl, lurking and waiting and no one is 'picking' up girls who are waiting at the bus stop. Cops are busy doing their duty slapping the protesters, that may include women as well. But that is normal, they probably deserved it as well. Or as many Indians still like to believe, it could be because of some sins of previous life.

It really does not matter if a four year old is dancing or singing to the tune of 'munni badnaam hui' without understanding the implications of what she is dancing to, because that is probably what being human means. I wonder what being normal means?

The most pressing issue grasping this large and equally crazy 'normal' republic is that of people jerking off at night watching some low light movie, shot using an handy-cam in a single location and single shot that has multiple shots and commonly known as porn.

They say porn is not aligned to real world. People learn a lot from porn and it is directly responsible for rise in rapes. Is that the reason why they make bollywood movies so dumb that no one in his right mind would take life lessons from them? I find no other answer.

According to petitioner, people are learning a lot of wrong things from porn which should be stopped. There are people who hate sex ed courses for the children and adults which is also normal. Porn is a daily necessity of life, it teaches us Doctor, Patient, Teacher, Pizza delivery boy and the cable guy are some of the best professions in the world.
Obviously woman and child welfare ministers are allowed to watch the porn because it is their duty.

Another pressing issue of nation wide debate in the country, who is responsible for rise in rapes? So far everything from Porn, MTV, America, small clothes on woman, large clothes on women, no clothes, babies, small girls, walking at night, staying home at night, neighbors and the breathing is held responsible for making a man rape a girl. Obviously, if the rape happens near a temple or a bar is normal, it should not be considered rape because she deserves it.

The government of Goa has banned drinking on the beach. They have finally got tired of chasing naked and drunk strangers on the beach. The final year ritual of puking outside Tito and the Facebook bromance photo albums are feeling threatened.

Well its only fair, Goa was the last place in the country that had any liberal sanity. Whenever anyone mentioned they are off to Goa, you had to brace yourself for the Dil Chahta hai type poses or bromance pictures at Calangute beach (which incidentally is the only beach anyone remembers others are only beaches they saw on the way to somewhere else). No more sex on the beach drinking on the beach.

So bottom-line India is a normal country... crazy normal country. Water gate opened the floodgates in American history, there are multiple tape gate, coal gate, mobile gate and what not, but the only thing that shakes the government into action is a teenagers Facebook status update.

Only relief in this normal world is eating boiled peanuts sitting on the park bench watching the Pigeons giving PDA for the whole world to see. That is also normal, I guess.

We live in interesting times.

The Prophecy of Indian Railways

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 00:19:49 PDT

The thing about prophecies is, they tend to start a war more than prevent it. If Kansa never heard the prophecy of Krishna we would never see the battle. If Voldemort never knew about the potter boy, we would be saved seven horrible movies. But the thing about prophecies is that they exist.

Over the period of time, I have come to believe that someone somewhere is jotting down prophecies about me in an language illegible by human. You know something is amiss, and bam that thing is amiss right then and there.

There is not a single moment of doubt in my mind about the prophecy of railway and me. Murphy had once said, if there is a fifty-fifty chance of getting something right, there is a ninety percent guarantee you will get it wrong.

During my junior college days there are people who sleep on the railway platform who used to watch me run after a train almost every day. Sometimes I even ran after it from front. This made one day, a homeless guy come towards me and said, 'You are never going to reach the platform on time.' Now that I think about it, his prediction would have been different had I given him some more money but that is another matter. But the worlds were etched, I can never reach the platform on time.

The traffic, lazy friends and missing socks helped fulfilling this prophecy time and again. Just when everything was going on time, they were joined by confusing phone calls, flat tires and one time, a cow, yes, a cow sitting in the middle of the street. The Universe does not play nice.

My first job was in New Delhi, which is so far the most confusing capital of the country.

It thus happened on the fateful day, I was busy drinking Ginger Chai dipping cream-roll on the new Delhi railway station, waiting for my train,'Sampark Kranti Express', to arrive.

The thing about Indian railways is that they do not obey the general laws of time. They have their own set of rules, if you arrive at the station an hour early than the departure, there is a guarantee that the train will be an hour late. Following the trend, you decide to relax a little and come a little sooner than the departure time and the train would be on time, causing you to rush inside it. Obeying this law, I had dutifully arrived an hour early. Had judged for fifteen minutes to decide if I should test the capability of my stomach to digest the chinese noodles near the railway station. Stumbled on two passengers sleeping, yes sleeping, on the platform. And finally settled for tea served in a cup that was questionably clean.

My train was busy following its own timetable and taking her own time to arrive. As I dipped the final piece of cream roll in my tea, there was a public announcement. A bored little clerk behind a mike announced, 'Rajdhani express is scheduled to depart on platform number 1'.
Platform number 1 was were I was waiting for my train. If Rajdhani was on platform number 1, where was my train?

There was fifteen minutes left for my train to depart and there was no train. No announcement and no information. I rushed to the train time table on the platform (it occurred to me that I could have done this an hour ago). The train time table, following the laws of railways, has its own laws of motion. It did not have my train on it.

I pulled out the ticket which contained a blurry writing of my train journey. Time of departure, check. Train of departure, check. Time of arrival, check. Platform number, check. And finally it dawned on me, a little late, station of departure, Nizamuddin Station and not New Delhi.

Without thinking a lot, I bolted out of the station to catch a local taxi. The taxi meter calculations in Delhi are done using a complex scientific calculator. And are further multiplied by an imaginary number. He spoke the arbitrary amount which I was not in any mood to argue with (if you argue well, you can subtract an imaginary number from the amount and negotiate it less than 50% of what he says but no time for that). Just told him to press on the accelerator.

View Larger Map

If they are ever looking for replacement for speed racer, this taxi driver could nominate himself. We raced to the street of Delhi and reached the Nizamuddin station in fifteen minutes.

Just when I was thinking I have missed the train, I saw her standing in great majesty at platform number 1. I took a deep breath and put one foot forward, the train started moving on.
And again, the old prophecy hit me, I was running behind a train godspeed.

I did catch it, yet again.

An auto-rickshaw in need is very costly indeed.

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 00:01:08 PDT

India is a land of spiritual getaways, people from all over the world come to India to getaway from their life, wife, boss and sometimes they just visit to create albums on Facebook. The tourist love to see the Taj Mahal, they want to visit the Himalayas. There are multiple brochures printed in colorful ink of thousand spiritual getaways in India. The tourism and spiritual brochures miss out on one big spiritual one can partake in this crazy country is riding in an auto rickshaw.

One small journey in an auto rickshaw will give you the spiritual enlightenment that sages get ages to attain. The biggest philosophical discovery of modern India is how does the auto rickshaw meter changes its value for same distance depending on the country of origin of the passenger or the state of origin of the rickshaw driver. Just like the Knight Bus (from the Harry Potter) these rickshaw will come to your assistance whenever a witch or a wizard or anyone with money needs them.

There is a well known curse in modern India that the auto rickshaw driver will be fluent in the language you have no clue about. Like in Bangalore if you don't know Kannada, the chances of first rickshaw driver knowing Kannada are greater, the second and third one will definitely know Kannada along with Telugu or Tamil. The forth guy will put a good effort in speaking English with you but then halfway along will give it up.

The fifth guy won't stop. You won't wait for the sixth rickshaw.

Don't act surprised if a Gujarati rickshaw driver comes to your aid in Mumbai. The Marathi one would be in Ahmedabad. Its globalization, nothing else.

One of the biggest spiritual journey happened to me on a stretch of road that was, by the look of it, built to get dug up every fifteen days. I believe they roll a dice between different departments to get dibs on who gets to dig first. The road was build, dug up, patched up roughly, dug up again, patched up roughly again, dug again and so on. Till what looked like a track for dirt biking. The rickshaw driver with all his infinite wisdom and dexterity of an Ninja ignited his engine and drove on.

I hung on tight to the ceiling as life speed past me, also did the potholes, a vegetable vendor and... huh... an elephant. That rickshaw ride brought me in full circle with life. There is a theory that says that the moment you understand the rickshaw meter, they replace it with something completely random.

The auto rickshaw is always with you, for you wherever you are, until you desperately need one. A rickshaw in need is very costly indeed.

No one really knows how one came up with the concept of rickshaw. Was that a bad idea to make a big scooter or someone missed out to put one tyre into a four-wheeler, we will never know. What makes a rickshaw meter tick, we may never find out.

But whenever you visit India make sure you experience this spiritual experience at-least one time. Ride an auto-rickshaw on the streets on India and suddenly you will feel the sense of fulfillment encompassing your entire life.

Living in the Cloud

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 21:55:51 PDT

This is cross posting from my tech blog with few additions.

During a drinking session with a friend, we got discussing how everyone is taking about cloud. I pointed out that soon cloud is going to replace a computer and he said that was not possible.

Computer will still be needed for many professional work like movie editing, photo editing, animation and a lot other things. But what about personal computing? Can I use only cloud systems and survive for many days?

The short answer is 'yes' I can. The long answer is this blog post. The challenge was accepted, that for seven days I will use only cloud services for my personal computing needs. Funny part was, I ended up continuing using those services way beyond seven days. Enlisting the top ten things I needed a computer for and how I used only cloud services for them.

1. Editing my novel

Thats the easiest thing anyone can relate to. How do I create documents, the dreaded excel sheets and powerpoint presentation. The common answer would be Google Docs but somehow in past few days, I am not really in Moodle for Google (neither am I switching back to the old nemesis microsoft). I used Zoho Writer to edit my novel online. I preferred their services much better than other online tools.

2. Create Graphic for the blogs

This was a tricky one. If you look at the header of this blog or on the sidebar, you will see many beautiful icons that I created using photoshop. I could not believe any online provider could provide me the beauty of a photoshop editing. None of the offline tools came close to offering what photoshop offered. However, to my delight, I found the online editor Pixlr.com to come in handy. It can be using for cropping, pasting and editing pictures. The new banner for my blog (http://sidoscope.co.in) and my wifes blog (http://thecanvasplatter.blogspot.in) is created using pixlr. This startup was taken over by autodesk and is one of the best thing that has come up in the crowd.

3. Creating presentation

When I am not doing anything, I am busy creating presentations. I love those things that move around. You can see some of the things I created on my site showcase. Most of the presentations on the page are created using Prezi.com the online 3D presentation maker. Prezi gives an extra dimension to the presentation and that wow factor helps.

4. Making Infographics

I have used many corporate tools for making infographics. The best one was obviously illustrator, adobe knows how to do stuff right. But then can I make infographics online? I tried with pixlr but since there was a screen limit with their editor, making a long infographic like the one for cloud computing was a tedious job. Just when I thought, I am losing the challenge, ta da, Cacoo.com came to the rescue. Cacoo has an easy to use interface where you can create beautiful graphics for free. They offer 25 diagrams on the free license which is really cool.

5. Sharing files and photos

One of the many things you need a computer and those little USB drives is transfer of files. During my college days when I did not have a computer, I used to carry a rewritable CD in my bag and borrow CD writers on my friends computer to burn disc. Things changed and we now have those USB drives. So the real question here was how do I transfer more than a GB of file? Now in real world scenario there are very few things that are more than one GB, however lets say I wanted to transfer a heavy file? And there Dropbox came to rescue. What was more with the camera upload feature, I did not have to do anything. When I took photos, they were safely upload to dropbox and all I had to do was share it with my friend.
With Samsung Promotion on Dropbox, I got 96 GB of extra space (I have four devices) along with multiple camera upload spaces. So my total dropbox space was way beyond 100 GB (which was ironic since my first computer, I had only 40 GB of space)

6. Watching Movies

When was the last time you stepped into a DVD store and purchased a nice DVD, picked up a bottle of whiskey and made some pop-corn. If you never did, I highly suggest you do. Anyways, so since this was a post computer world, the best alternative I found online was bigflicks.com. It is a on-demand movie site that streams bollywood movies. It also streams selected english movies. A quick google search also brought me to the cinemanow.com that streams english movies in USA and Canada. There are many other on-demand movie site for other regions. Since cinemanow does not stream in India, I could not test it. If you are using any other service mention it in comments below.

7. Listening to Songs

Listening to songs while doing stuff is one of the many things one can do. However, iTunes has already brought those on cloud. Just like movies, listening to songs is also a regional thing. One of the best service I use regularly is Dhingana.com. It streams not only bollywood but also regional marathi songs.
If there is any such internal service which is popular, mention it in comments below.

There are many other services that are available online like Games, e-Learning courses and many more.

I won the challenge very easily. There has been a paradigm shift in the way we look at software and computers. The bulky DVDs are now used only to watch on a DVD player (which ill be selling on ebay soon). There is a big shift from the way we conceive social notion.

This change is good or bad, I do not know but somewhere I have heard, some governments are already building their cloud army. An army of hackers who will bring down the internet and countries along with it.

Disclaimer: None of the services mentioned above have paid me to write their names here. These are the services I use daily and is a personal choice not determined by merit.

[Short Story] The Sleeping Beauty Story

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 22:50:40 PDT

Once upon a time, in a land far far away (Apparently this land in far far away was biased towards the pretty princessess, hence you would find almost all the princess like Cinderella, Snow White and Rapunzel in this region.) ~~lived~~ slept a beautiful princess, called 'the sleeping beauty' (That was really her true name). One fine day, her sleeping pills wore off, and she suddenly woke up from her deep slumber.

There was no musical around her, no prince charming and neither was anything else (except maybe unlimited Wifi)

She rushed to check on to PreetyFakeBook.com and found that all her friends from school days where in a relationship. A cold chill spread through her body as multiple thoughts came to her mind. Would she die alone? Would she never find her prince charming? Would she ever...

Her thoughts were cut short by a ping from Cinderella,
"Good morning sleeping beauty," Cinderella pinged, "Whats happening?"
'Whats happening' was considered one of the most worst thing one can say to another in this land in far far away. It was one of the top ten curse words one could ask someone who just woke up from deep slumber. But since people who woke up from deep slumber, like the sleeping beauty, were not aware of this rule, they fell for it.

"How did you get prince charming?" asked the sleeping beauty, worried that nothing was happening.

"Oh its simple," Cinderella told her about how she gate crashed the princes grand ball in which she was not at all invited. How she escaped from the dance leaving the prince excited, high and dry. This hard to get attitude seemed to have worked for her. He came looking for her.

"That sounds like a plan," sleeping beauty said and decided to try it on. She picked up a gorgeous dress that was sure to create a smashing impression on the prince. Finding the party to gate crash was easy, all she had to do was log on to PartySquare application to find where prince charming was right now.

In this land there, a prince grand ball happened everyday and a new prince charming hosted one of these to reassure himself of being charming. Every third person in this land was named Prince born in the family of Charming.

She walked into the party and everyone gaped at the eternal beauty. However, the prince was busy playing kingdom ville on his iPrince and completely ignored her charm. Upset, she decided to walk back to her chambers and sleep.

On the way she met Snow White, who was busy painting the night sky.

"Hello there..." said the Sleeping beauty, "I see that engagement ring on your fingers. How are you?"

"I am fine," beamed Snow white flashing that ring.

She told her about the story and explained to her that the key to finding the good man is to live with Seven men and then dump them for the eight one who accepts you for what you are.

Sleeping beauty considered that idea for a while, then realized Snow White was top in the Physical Education class and also had joined weekend karate lessons, while Sleeping Beauty was only sleeping her whole life.
Living with Seven men and still staying a virgin for eighth was not her cup of tea.

Sad that she would die alone, she walked past Rapunzels tower, who was sitting on the top most window. She immediately called her and asked her the secret to get a handsome prince. Rapunzel giggled from the tower, and send a 'Dhotiranjan Varadahastam Kesh Kala' oil, the secret behind long hair.

Happy that finally she can do something, Sleeping beauty returned to her tower to try the new hair oil. When she returned she found the door ajar, cautiously, she stepped in, worried that she might find Seven little men in there, she found a note on her bed.

"Was here to ask you out, seems you already are engaged somewhere else. - Your Prince Charming."

P.s. Destiny will happen to you, weather you are there or no, is a matter of coincidence.

[Short Story] The Story of the Goose

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:02:43 PDT

Uddhava knew this was the ending, this is it. After moving the people from Mathura and winning the war against Kaurava, karma had caught up with his old friend. The blood bath could not be stopped, Yadavas could not be saved. Two days ago, Uddhava was called upon by his cousin on the death bed,

The chariot raced through the muddy streets towards vrindavan. On the back seat clutching tightly to his chest sat Uddhava. Nervous, worried and upset he didn’t know what lay ahead. Events flashed in front of his eyes of the bloodbath in his bellowed Dwarka. The entire Yadav clan was dead, with their own arrows. He though of the dying words of his old friend Krishna,

‘It’s over, my friend,’ Krishna had said as he rest his head on Uddhava thigh, ‘Time for me to leave the mortal world.’

‘Don’t say this, brother,’ Uddhava smiled, ‘The vaidyas are trying their best to recover you. Do not worry.’

Krishna smiled, ‘they are bound by the physical realities of the mayavi world my friend, I am not.’
Uddhava feared as much. Being a pandit of many scriptures, including ayurveda, Uddhava knew it was really over.

‘I have one final task for you my friend,’ Krishna said, ‘Go back to Vrindavan and Mathura and tell them, I am leaving finally.’

‘Krishna,’ Uddhava exclaimed, ‘No please don’t.’ Uddhava feared of Radha who was waiting for Krishna in vrindavan, he thought of Krishna’s old father, vasudeva waiting for him to return, ‘How can you be so calm and quiet?’

Krishna smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry my friend; a true master never attaches himself to the physical realms. Learn from the goose, who sits on the water. It enjoys the water completely but does not let it stick to its feather. It knows very well when to enjoy the water and when to fly…’

His chariot went over a rock that disturbed his thoughts. Today the charioteer was also nervous, everyone was. The entire clan, every male in the Yadav clan was dead? There were no survivors, none at all. No children, all were dead, leaving behind a hoard of weeping and crying elders. What could have cause for this blood bath?

The roads to Vrindavan were familiar, Krishan always gave him news to pass on to his birth village. Uddhava was known as the bearer of bad news. Last time he was here, he told them about Krishna would never return to Vrindavan. So many people hated him for that, don't shoot the messenger, he pleaded.

Today’s news was even worst. How would they react? The noble people of Vrindavan?
The chariot was the same that carried Krishna away from Vrindavan and it was only fair it should be used to end the final chapter.

The noble gates of Vrindavan were always open for every stranger. This pleasant village had to warriors only honest farmers and milkmen. He stopped the chariot at the banks of River Yamuna. This was the place were Krishna had defeated the giant snake Kalia. He washed his face in the holy water once. How would he break the bad news? He was the learned scholar of all the Vedas?
A splash of water disturbed his thoughts, he looked ahead to see Radha sitting at the banks of River Yamuna.

Radha used to visit the banks of Yamuna to feed the goose everytime she came home to her mailka, the home of her parents. This was a ritual that was set by Krishna who had passed on the baton to her. She looked at Uddhava and smiled, "What more bad news you bring, Uddava?" she asked simply.

His lips froze, unable to speak. The entire vocabulary vanished from his head. He looked into her eyes and mumbled something that made no sense even to him.

"He is dead isn’t he?" she asked simply without even pausing to look in his eyes and busy feeding the goose in the river.

"How do…," he mumbled and then paused, she was Krishna’s soul mate and they both were bound by a connection that wasn't merely physical, "Yes," he said finally bursting in tears.

All the emotions bottled up in his mind flooded out of the crevasse. His legs gave way and he collapsed on the ground.

"Do not mourn over the dead, Uddhava," Radha said consoling him, "We all die, eventually. Krishna taught me one thing, life moves on. Kalia, the giant snake was too attached to his abode at the bottom of this river. Krishna humbled him to move on. Krishna always used to tell me to be like the goose in these waters. They enjoy the water, but never let the water touch its feathers."

Uddhava looked in her eyes, they were sad but had no tears, how could she not cry? She was the soul-mate of Krishna. But her eyes told a different story, they were the same like Krishna. Krishna had left the world physically, but He was with her right now.

"When Krishna left vrindavan in the chariot, we met at the same river bank," Radha explained futher, "while leaving he asked me to feed his goose while he was away. I never understood what he was trying to tell me, but finally a few days ago I realized, what he really meant was. He was never going to come back physically; he wanted me to detach myself from his physical sense, so that we can be immortal together forever. I knew when you will return again with another news it would be of his death and I had prepared myself for it," she smiled.

Now Uddhava understood why his friend had send him here. This time Uddhava was not the messenger, Radha was. The final piece of puzzle that Krishna had left for him.
Krishna was never attached to physical things or places. He had moved from Vrindavan to Mathura and then from Mathura to Dwarka. His true realm was himself, not the cities; his Vaikunth was with Krishna all along.

Just like Krishna, life also changes moves, nothing is constant. That is why Krishna never tried to save the Yadavas, because Krishna knew, the time had finally come. Similarly the yuga also would change, a new yuga would come to eradicate the old one.

A new generation will come to mow over the older one, that is the cycle of life. There was nothing constant in the world, there was nothing to keep attached. He finally knew was going to happen next. They will rebuild Dwarka again, brick by brick. Raise the city back from the dead.

As the puzzle finally unraveled in front of him, he finally murmured the words that would be echoed by countless humans across the millennium,

"You know what that means now, don’t you?" Uddhava finally stood up, wiped his tears and handed the broken flute to Radha, "Great perils lay ahead for it is the beginning of Kalyuga."

Authors Note:

The story is based on Hamsa Gita, the song of the goose, the final chapter of Bhagwat Purana. I have taken poetic liberties to visualize the final scene in Dwapar Yuga. The Gregorian calender date for the event was 18 February 3102 BCE. The story and the setup is fictional, the message is from Bhagwat Purana.

Painting:

Painting: The Story of the Goose by Deepika Kabe
http://thecanvasplatter.blogspot.in

Quick Bytes: Here and there

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:02:55 PDT

Love story

‎"You see that dead puppy there," he asked pointing to a dead puppy.
"Yes."
"Do you feel sorry for it?" he asked engaging her.
"Yes, I do. It is a sad sight to see."
"I don't feel it. I told you I am a psychopath. Things like apathy, love, sad or hatred do not matter to me."
"That can't be true. I have not know anyone incapable of love. Surely you must love something or someone."
"Nope, I love only myself and my thoughts, that get crazy somethings."
"There can't be any proof for that. You could be feeling sad for the puppy but not showing it."
"No I don't," he said, simply, "I did not feel anything when I killed it."

Nightmares

The dreaded night is here. I have been dreading this moment the whole day. It happens, night after night. Every night my soul is tortured beyond comprehension. Why me? I ask for a thousand times, why me? I stare at the coldness ceiling, at the monotonus motion of the fan. Still I get to arousal, no feeling. No emotion. Emotion, is a very complex term, I cannot understand it. I cannot deal with it, why can't I? Why can't I? As my footsteps move towards him, I get goosebumps. Will it happen again tonight? Will it happen like every night? He calls me, invites me in his embrace.

He satisfies everyone but why not me? Why do I dread going into towards him? Pin drop silence in the room as I approach him. A little creak as I sit on him disturbs the peace of the bedroom. I law down on him, silently, waiting for sleep to come. My bed comforts me but I am not able to sleep on him.

I close my eyes and it begins again, nightmares.

[Short Story] The Teachings of the Snake Mother

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 21:55:20 PDT

Since her birth, Kadru the mother of all snakes always had a boiling rivalry with her sister Vinata, the future mother of Garudas or the eagles.
Oh how magnificent Vinata was, with her wings spread out wide, her long flights in the air. Once Vinata kept on and on about her long jump towards the sun. Oh how jealous Kadru was. Kadru made a vow that day, that one day, Vinata would be her slave.

When they both where married to the Sage Kashyap, son of Manu, she demanded 100 sons, to fulfill her vow against her sister. Vinata was still the smartest and she asked for only two, but both of them should be stronger than any son Kadru had. Thus the sisters were gifted with their boons, Kadru in her hundred sons gave birth to Shesha, who in the future will be the greatest hermit of them all and support the land on which sons of Manu will stand. Vasuki, the future king of serpents, who would save the clan of snakes from extinction and also Airavat, whose whiteness would be the measure of all things white in the world.

Vinata however waited for long time but both her eggs would not hatch. It was difficult for nature to fulfill her boon and do that soon, so both the child took time in development. Kadru laughed, laughed at the misery of her sister.

Everyday she mocked on her sister, oh how fast her kids were growing, said Kadru. Shesha could now defeat the entire mountain, she said. Vasuki could beat Indra in the game of dice. Vinata got angry and broke up one egg.

Out sprang her eldest son, Arun, who would later be the charioteer of sun and help all creatures with energy. But because he sprang too soon, his one wing was deformed. Consumed with guilt Vinata vowed she would wait for the second egg to hatch.

In the meanwhile, things were changing in the newly formed earth. The Devas and the Aruras where going head to head against each other in their battle. Finally Kadru’s son, Vasuki meddled with the two clans and offered them a respite. They would both churn the ocean and distribute the gifts that the nature has to offer. Vasuki himself offered to be used as a rope for this churning. Kadru was angry, she felt betrayed. She instantly disowned Vasuki and proclaimed that her true son was Shesha who was true to his clan.

But with the churning of the milky ocean provided her with an opportunity to enslave her sister,

“Oh Vinata,” she said one day casually, “Have you heard of Uchchaisravas? the magnificent king of horses who sprang from the milky ocean?”

“Oh sister, who hasn’t heard of him,” Vinata mentioned, “I hear his tail hair is the purest white in color, even whiter than your son Airavat….”

“No, my sister,” Kadru said, “No one is whiter than Airavat, I have heard he is of color black. Lets have a bet on it, shall we?”

Vinata smiled, she had no idea Kadru was talking seriously when she said, “If the tail of the horse is black, you will have to be my slave forever, but if it is white in color, Ill be your slave forever.”

“Oh sure,” said Vinata playfully, she will later regret this bet as Kadru would actually chain her to the ground in front of all the snakes, for a hundred years, until rescued by her elder son, Garuda.

Kadru instantly called her sons, the powerful Shesha and the magnificent Airavat. She asked them to hide in the tail of the horse so that it will appear black instead of white, “I want my sister as my slave. Go my sons, follow the teachings of your mother….”

She was in for the shock when Shesha replied, “No my mother, we won’t go and help you with your diabolical plan.”

“How dare you defy your own mother?” she asked.

“We do not defy you mother, we obey the same teachings you taught us. You taught us poisonous fangs and their use, you taught us how to hide from others. You taught us how to build the own nest, but above all these teachings,” Airavat said, “You taught us treachery."

“By planning a diabolical plot against your sister, you are defying your kin as we do ours. We are just following your teaching…” said Shesha, smirking, walked away with his siblings.

Kadru was left fuming in anger.

P.s. The story is based on the original characters from the Hindu Mythology of Snakes and eagles. The story is also true, the author has taken the liberty to fictionize the story.

[Short Story]The Corruption in Ravan's Lanka

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 21:54:52 PDT

Ravan was pacing hard in his royal chamber. A disturbing trend was brought to light in his peoples court today. His advisors informed of rise in corruption among the civil servants. Ravan had always tried hard to instill discipline in his people. He tried hard to maintain peace and policy in the golden land of Lanka. We are the richest kingdom ever, don't they see it? he asked himself, If everyone is rich, why is there corruption?

He kept asking question again and again. Why are the people corrupt? We are just and fair to everyone, we do not over tax them, no one is poor? Then why do we have corruption?

Watching him agitated Vibhishan walked towards him, "Anything worrying you brother?"

"Why is there corruption Vibhishan? We have given them everything they want.... why corruption then?" Ravan asked, "Even the poorest of the villager eats in the plate of Gold, then why do we have corruption? Why can't we end it once and for all?"

Surpanakha was sitting close by watching a few ants carry the block of sugar to their house, she quipped, "Of Course there is a way to end it forever, I have been telling you since ever. Burn one or two corrupt officers in the middle of the kingdom for the junta to see... fear will make them obey."

Vibhishan looked at his sister horrified at the thought and turned back to his brother,

"I can't burn my own subjects," Ravan said, "What message will that send to others? The king hates them?"

"You are the demon king," Surpanakha said, "What is there to like about you? You are not like those sissy Ayodhya people whose prince gave up his rightful throne just for the wishes of a half dead king," she said simply drowning the ant in the glass of water.

Ravan watched her drown the ant and felt agitated, was he as the king only suppose to impose fear in his subjects? Why would people live in his kingdom then?

Vibhishan kept his hand on his brothers shoulder, "As a king you need to have faith in your subjects and so should they. Corruption begins when you loose their faith. The prince of Ayodhya gave up his rightful throne to keep word of his father. It was not done because he loved his father well, it was done because if he refused there would be a clash in royal household. Why will the subjects listen to the king if his own son won't? A strong royal family..." he glance at Surpanakha, who had lost her attention in the talk and was busy in her ant drowning"... can restore faith in the just king. If we can take some advise from the prince of Ayodya it was, the prince will lead the subjects, not by ordering them but by bowing before them.

As a King, instead of making stringent laws, ask them to have faith in the system. Build the system so strong that no external agent can peak inside it. Only then can you curb the corruption from inside. ."

Vibhishan's words only were drowned by the screams of Surpanakha, "Stupid ants... they all biting me, get away. Shoo Shoo..."

"If the subjects fear you, sooner or later they will revolt against you," Vibhishan concluded.

P.s. The story is entirely fiction. Characters adopted from Indian Mythology Ramayana

The Fall of Human Society

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:00:20 PDT

The fall of human society is defined in two ways, homelessness and terrorism. Both of them occur when the basic fabric of human society collapses.

While the former occurs with the depletion of resources for survival and the person is declared as a victim. The former makes weak attempts to get back on the feet but sooner or later dies due to some illness or hangs himself.

The later takes the darker route and hits back at the society. The later is then termed bad/evil and has to be hanged until death, for he won't do it on his own. The fact is as long as both survive, the society cannot face because they both are victims of the society.

Because it was the human settlement who failed them, and this failure one cannot accept.

One cannot bear the fact that they have failed in forming a society. Because for most people the 'society' remains an integral part of the life and without which their life has no meaning.

We all have failed to form a sustainable society and are nothing more than a bunch of animals living in a delusion of grandeur.

All paid jobs degrade the mind but we blame the boss

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:03:26 PDT

When Aristotle spoke the golden words to those who were listening, little did he know that one fine day will come when almost all the people on this godsaken planet would use this sentence once in their lifetime at some point or the other. Most of the people in the world are in job and most of the people in the job hate the job they are doing.

"I hate my job," has become a synonym for how are you in a corporate world. Everyone uses this phrase at some point of time in their life and all for the wrong reasons.

I can totally understand a sewage cleaner uttering the words, 'I hate my job' or a puppy killer at local dog pound uttering the line is also acceptable. But how can someone who earns a lot, gets an appraisal of more than 12% (Countries GDP growth is 10%) and has not left a job for a long time utter these words?
"Why don't you leave this job?" I ask to noone in particular.
"One day I will and then these people will understand." when they do leave, no one understands. Instead there is one less stomach to feed at the office party. And they do leave but never change their job, they will simply take a new one at the competitors getting an increase of only 20K in their salary. Rest remains the same.

When we initiated a incubation center in the company, he grabbed me over coffee table.

"So what is this incubation center you were talking about?"

"If you have an idea, you can submit it in the incubation center. If the idea is really marketable, the center will provide you monetary and human resources to work on that idea." I explained, "You own the rights to the project with the company."

"But if I have an Idea why will I give it to you?" he asked, "If I have an idea I will take it and build a company out of it. I will leave this job and work on it."
"You do know that the company won't pay you any salary once you leave this job?" I asked, just food for thought, "And you will need money, resources and time to build on it. Make it marketable and then make it large?"
He looked at me straight. I could see he had not thought of all this.
"So do you have any idea?" I concluded simply.
"Not yet." he announced, "but even if I have I won't tell you. "

An office is filled with many different types of people. Some are people, others are people who do not think some are people. Some believe that the whole world is plotting against them. Others people that the whole world is plotting for them. She thought something otherwise.

"What is your performance rating?" she asked all of the sudden during the lunch time.
"Excuse me?" this is polite way of saying, none of your business.
"What is your performance rating?" she stressed again, not taking any hint, "I have received 2nd bucket. I want to know which bucket you have received?"
"Why?" another polite way of saying, mind your own business.
"Cmon, don't be like that. Tell me know, I want to know. I have worked hard the whole year, even given in extra hours by working late at night. I know you leave office at six, so I want to know how much rating you have got?"
"How can you compare someone who works slow and someone who works very fast?" I shot back. This was a rude way to shut her up. I succeeded.

There is a 80-20 rule in any office space. 80% of work is done by 20% of the office staff and since killing the remaining 80% is illegal, they are assigned with the remaining 20% of the task which they screw up 80% of the time.

Spoke one such 20% to me the other day, "You know what they should do?" he asked, "Send me onsite, give me a big pay package and let me settle in USA. I have heard you do not have to work there?"
I was busy working on something when his words alarmed me, "Didn't you have some work to do?"
"Yes but I am not in the mood." he concluded. As they say, God Save America if he lands there.

Then there are few who love to take credit for your job well done. One such person happened to become my manager (yes mistakes happen by companies). His habit was, he would take a code for review before deployment and add comment under his name over my code. What he didn't know that I knew his thing and didn't really care. But one fine day, I decided to purposely add a big exception in the code. It won't come directly in the open but would definitely come up in testing. Since his name was on top, it would be assigned back to him, leaving him no choice but to keep a straight face and pass on the code to me. Oh the fun.

After all paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind, but what if you have fun along the way?

Technology Matters

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 22:57:47 PST

The other day I had gone to drop my wife at the Bangalore Airport. While waiting for her flight to take off, I got busy checking social updates on my phone. To my surprise I found an update from an old friend, who had checked in at the airport fifteen minutes before me.

The backstory between me and this old friend is not that interesting. We were in same school together and shared a bench, tiffin and a box of crayons for the initial few years and then moved on. We both went into different directions not to be heard from each other for almost twenty years.

And then Facebook happened. One fine morning out of the blue, I received a friend request on Facebook. The face was familiar but definitely not similar. My friend had finally found me... on Facebook. Soon his updates mixed into my social stream and again, after twenty years, we lost each other again (even though we were connected)

So I was surprised at his check in, here we were on the same place after ten years. If only I had his latest number, I could call him. Ten years ago in school I maintained a diary that stored the landline numbers of all my friends.

I carried an Android powered phone that had the feature of sync through the social network. Sometime during the night, my phone had silently downloaded all of my online contact from Google, Facebook and Twitter and mapped them with each other (happens when the name is common or the email address is common).

Here I was sitting in a cafe outside the airport and a stroke of good smart phone. I had the number of my long lost friend after twenty years. I dialed the number and it connected. My friend was extremely surprised and mentioned he was eating a sub at the airport subway.

After we met, he told his story. He was in Bangalore for a month on deputation from his office. He knew no one in Bangalore and was really glad we met.

Twenty years ago, this would be an impossible feat. Ten years ago, this would be unheard of. Today, it is not a really innovative thing you have heard of.

Technology is influencing how we see the real world connections. Slowly the human brain is adapting using an external device that is enhancing our senses. It is affecting the way we realize the real world around us. Me and my friend did not meet that day because of one single technology. We met there because cloud, social, local and mobile were working together endlessly. The way you use technology matters be it a mobile phone or a nuclear reactor.

The End of World as it Never Happened: 2012 in Review

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 11:13:34 PST

Every year has its own share of trouble with it. Some years face dictators, others face earthquakes or tsunami. But once in a while a year comes that has to face revolts, hurricanes, political turmoil, liberation, protest and imminent threat of apocalypse. And only few years in entire history were able to pull through all this Gangnam Style.

If 2012 blames 2011 for its share of troubles, it won't be entirely wrong. 2011 gave everyone a year taste of true utopia People across the globe came out for their rights. In fact even before 2012 assumed seat in office, it had a mild heart attack.

Just like it feels to paint a bulls-eye on the back of a bull, that is quietly grazing on the banks of river filled with piranha, 2012 came in cautiously.

2012 began with where 2011 left off. Most of the religions and Hollywood had agreed with the Mayan sculpture that 2012 is where the buck stops. A large bulls-eye was painted on planet earth inviting all aliens and asteroids to give it a try. Priest were clearing their throats preparing for a massive 'I told you so...'
And so after having featured in multiple faiths, Hollywood and countless dreams, this celebrity year began.
2012 was a lot of cautious about his presence And hence, baring a few incidents, the first two months went without trouble.

Its first real incident began in the month of march with the end of print version of Britannica encyclopedia. The sudden burst of internet exploded knowledge faster than their 244 years of collective experience.

July was a month to rejoice once more when CERN announced the discovery of Higgs 'the god' Bosom particle. It was a tiniest moment of triumph for the entire mankind. It could enjoy its full on glory only until... A few days later there a massive outage of electricity in Gurgaon threw 620 million people in dark. Obviously how many of those 620 million actually had a legal connection is a different story altogether. However, there was a relief that Gangnam style was to the rescue of the millions stranded in darkness.

In the month of August, human curiosity led them directly on the surface of Mars. The Mars Rover 'Curiosity' will explore its surface and send the data back to earth.

Whatever the Mayans may say, in the month of May however, my life as I knew it ended. I accidently got married to my long time girlfriend and the next couple of months passed in a blur with no connection with human world whatsoever. I also changed the coast in India and from West India landed in South India.

In the month of September The United States of America had a tiring time defending their first amendment as series of attacks targeted their embassies in other part of the world.

In the month of October, as we reached closer to the date of the End of the world a giant leap for mankind was taken by Australian Skydiver Felix Baumgartner. It was a real giant leap as he plummeted towards the ground from the stratosphere (39 KMs above in space)

While the world was bracing itself for the end of the world coming soon, a massive hurricane Sandy killed at-least 209 people in Bahamas, Caribbean, United States and Canada. Just as it was wreaking havoc in the west coast, an outsourced version of the hurricane hit Chennai in India called Neelam.

As November dawned, one of the first unique usage of Twitter came to light when Israel army tweeted their first attack against Hamas. In the same month, Kasab, the lone surviving terrorist of 26/11 was finally hanged until dead.

This year took its toll on many prominent people including Bal Thackeray, Jaspal Bhatti, Dara Singh, Rajesh Khanna and Yash Chopra passed away.

As the year came to an end, December showed India its true horror image as a poor girl from Delhi was brutally raped and killed in the process. The Indian government showing their patented mismanagement decided to tear gas and water shed innocent protesters. Midst the politics and pseudo speech giving, the victim could not live to see the new year making the mind scream for the worlds end.

The world did not end in 2012 or maybe it did, maybe it did, just as we know it. 2012 was brutal in all the sense, yet it came with a wake up call. It did bring with it a lot of things for retrospection. It showed people that there can be utopia if they are strive together. The work of 2012 is not over, just like the smart writer who leaves the reader guessing in the end, 2012 is just moving on. He has given everyone a choice for the future. How do you see your coming years is something you have to choose and only you.

That's it from me this year. The following articles are the best of Sidoscope in 2012.

Until next time then, see you next year.

December 2012

[19] Block that writer, right away. [Humor]
[16] [Infiction Workshop] Bullets and Bad news [Short Story]
[01] [Short story] The Plot [Short Story]

November 2012

[11] OMG: Oh My Godzilla!!!! [Humor]

October 2012

[27] The hunt for electricity on a early Saturday morning [Humor]
[16] Angrezi Vangrezi...[Humor]
[07] The silence of the fallen [Short Story]
[01] The Last Rock On Which Universe Collapses [Short Story]

September 2012

[30] Limericks Poem: the little genius [Poem]
[21] But you are an Indian... [Humor]
[18] Twice [Short Story]

August 2012

[17] Why Prince of Nigeria could never start a riot [Humor]
[14] [Fantasy Story] The Victory that was Lost [Short Story]
[11] Master of Backward Administration [Humor]

July 2012

[30] Double Shots Daseot: The Dark Kahani [Humor]
[05] Forget the God, show me the stupidity particle and Ill be proud. [Humor]

June 2012

[22] On the day he was on fire... [Short Story]

May 2012

[28] The stupidometer of Astrology, Aakash and ATM [Humor]
[23] How smart would it be to preorder Samsung Galaxy SIII? [Review]
[08] Truth Alone Triumphs [Retrospection]
[04] Quick Bytes: Moving On [Short Story]
[04] There Are Two Things You Should Know About Samsung Galaxy Y Duos Smart Phone [Review]
[01] The Greatest Battle Ever Fought [Short Story]

April 2012

[26] Thirty days challenge returns [Retrospection]
[01] Jam, Butter and Bread. [Short Story]

March 2012

[24] The Journey That Was Never Remembered [Short Story]
[21] Cliffhanger [Short Story]
[14] Anti-social Media [Humor]
[06] The Love was Melting...slowly. [Short Story]
[03] The Valentine Pity Fry [Humor]

February 2012

[27] This blogger in need is stupid indeed. [Humor]
[11] Black And White [Short Story]
[02] Traff*cked: That Time when your life is going nowhere, neither is anyone else. [Humor]

January 2012

[30] India is a developing country…. someone, somewhere is always developing something!!! [Humor]
[21] The False review of the New Samsung Omnia W [Review]
[14] Growing up is fun? Well, almost. [Humor]
[04] I respectfully decline the invitation to join your beheading... I mean, wedding [Humor]

Block that writer, right away.

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 10:44:30 PST

They say the purpose of a writer in this world is to keep civilization from destroying each other. That may be true but for a writer surviving in this little world is as difficult as swimming peacefully in a popular holiday swimming pool.

"So you are writing a book?" she asked, nice way to start a conversation.
"Oh yes, my first ambitious novel," I beamed, "After writing so many short stories, I decided to go for the big novel."
"Nice. You know I also plan to write a book, but when I retire and have more time."

Crash and burn. Straight face smiley. :|

"Wow you write books also?" he said.
"I am writing only one book," I clarified.
"Nice, my life is fairly easy, I go home and sleep, wake up and come to office." he informed.

Not a thing you should be proud of.

The best one yet was very recently.

She, "What is your book name?"
I told her the working title of my book.
"Oooh..."
"Yes," I simply replied.
"Wow, is that book published anywhere?" she asked.
For 20 secs I was shocked. Wasn't it published but I took the higher road.
"If the book was published anywhere, would I be writing it?" I asked simply.

Writing a book is not as easy is it. You have writers block, creativity block, idiots blocking your way and your characters killing each other.

True story

[Infiction Workshop] Bullets and Bad news

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sun, 16 Dec 2012 03:24:29 PST

The following entry is written for indifiction workshop

Shameless, toothless and spineless. That sums most of the people I work with, yep it does. I could as well skinny dip in a pool of piranhas, that would be easier than what I do now. I am a politician, I can see you cringe on hearing that. Think about it, even a janitor is respected when he tells what job he does, but not me. Tell people you are a politician and they will tell you how you personally ruined their life and their entire families.

How do you expect a person to do a clean job when he is surrounded 24x7 by a bunch of tics who are keen on sucking your blood and your soul. Walking down into the constituency and begging for votes, even that does not make one feel any better. Even a beggar is proud of his job, not me.
So, bottom line, I am a politician. Yep, I am. That means I carry home the murk of entire city, a personal secretary and an ‘advisor,’ whose job is to tell me how to eat and talk, to my lovely wife, Sandhya.

I am not saying that I am perfect, I made my mistakes in my life but the one mistake I did not make was marry Sandhya. Sandhya, loving, silent and a caring wife. She did not mind me bringing home two people with me every night for dinner. She did not my mind my life splashed in the headlines every morning or discussing work at breakfast. You have joined me in a very boring visit to the local community center. In the next few minutes people are going to shower me with requests of what they need. In a country of 1.5 billion people, everyone wishes their problems are solved. Don’t get me wrong, I do want to help these people, I sincerely do. But people really do not know what they want. You ask them to join schools and they will refuse. Seventy people today have offered ‘donation’ for my campaign if I help their ‘community’. How does one run a clean campaign with such attitude?

“Last visit for the day,” the secretary said, “Vishveshwara facility for the mentally challenged. You promised to visit them during the inauguration of their new speciality ward. The director of the facility is Mr...”

He goes on explaining me things I am supposed to know. “Do I have to?” I asked when he is done. Thats honest.

“Absolutely, we need to project you as a candidate who cares about even those who are mentally challenged and cannot vote. Their relatives definitely do vote,” the advisor replied.
And I am supposed to be the one who will take decisions for the people.
“The facility was built in the year of...” almost robotically my secretary begins his narration. I am working with a bunch of morons. But I guess duty calls. You cannot continue helping people and improving their lives unless you show it on camera that you are helping them.

Its all a prejudged drill, you get out, you fold hands in humbleness. You smile for the camera and for everything that moves. You say good things, you promise you will help them. You listen to their problems and you move on.
I follow the drill, I walk out of the car followed by my toothless secretary, my spineless advisor into the Mental Asylum. Some serious looking people are busy following the code and conduct of the organizers all over the world. The founder of Vishweshwara Facility is holding a large enough bouquet to welcome me. My secretary is talking down the notes of this meeting and whispering the names in my ears as we move on.
He founder shows me their facility that can house 120 patients. He talks in detail about the new ward they are opening in the coming month. He talks about the rise in suicide cases and how people need councillors. He moves over to show the wall of happiness as they call, a wall decorated with their inpatient and success stories. The wall is filled with faces of people that were once admitted in the facility but their treatment is over. The people are back on their feet. There are few who go into withdrawal but the rate is very very less.

There are happy faces, sad faces, confusing faces and familiar faces... wait... familiar faces. I definitely recognize the face. It is younger than today and a little different.
“That is Sandhya,” the founder of the institute explains, “She was one of our first success story. But once discharged her father took her away from the community, we still wonder what has happened to her.”

I know damn well what has happened to her. Her father abruptly married her off to a rich and wannabe chief minister candidate... me. When we met her, I liked her instantly, they told her she had done her college from this community but never mentioned she was admitted. I look at my advisor and he glances back. From his face I know he is thinking the same thing.

This is blatant cheating. I do not mind my wife to be a former mental hospital inmate but they should have come clean during our marriage. If I dump her so close to elections it will be splattered all across the news. If I cannot dump her, I can make her life hell. Yes, I will. Today, whatever my advisor, she will feel my wraight. How dare she and her father hoodwink me? Tomorrow morning, first thing he is going to get a very serious call from me. I storm out of the room without saying a word.

The displeasure has not got unnoticed to my advisor and he pops up behind me trying to calm me down, “Let it go for now,” he advises, “We are very close to elections. We cannot take any harsh steps.”
It is his job, I know, to make sure I win but I cannot.... I cannot mend a city when my own house is in a mess. I simply cannot. I cannot... there was a gun at my place wasn’t it? Yes my fathers old rifle. How easily can I hide a dead body? My wife, a resident at a mental asylum?

His ego was always bigger than himself. When I first saw him, we had just moved from my hometown to this big city. My experiences in my hometown where not so worthy until I met him. I glanced at him from across the room, a close family friend whose father was into politics. He was a nice guy at least better that those parade of computer engineers we visited over the weekend. He spoke genuinely about politics and changing the city. I loved him in an heartbeat.

Our marriage was not perfect, how can it be when his spineless colleagues come to dinner table every night? When every little news in the newspaper scares him? No its not as we say perfect but its not bad either.

I have a comfortable and decent life. Few servants at my Beck and call. O have a walking closet full of latest designer wear. And the famous ruk ruk khan comes to dinner very often. So it's good.

He is a reserved person, keeps to himself. Won't burden me with his politics. He is a good guy. After so many days today I have decided to surprise him. He has a old box that is kept in our store room. It contains his old memories, his days as a party volunteer. I decided to surprise him by planning a big collage of his life. His journey into politics. It will be printed on a big canvas to be hung in our sitting room.

The dusty box has many things, some things buried in the past. Some things kept from the future. Some nasty things, some naked... Wait... Is that a naked picture of him? That's so romantic. There are more, there are... Who is that woman? I don't recollect meeting her. He had physical... Everyone has a past, I can understand but why did he hide it? The gun on the wall is calling me, I need answers. Why hide? Am I overreacting? Yes I am. And pulling that gun down from the wall is also uncalled for. But I will be doing it. How dare he do this to me?
Why the secrecy?

"Why did you hide your past from me?" They both spoke almost at the same time. He had planned on a dramatic entrance by storming in the house only to find her standing with a gun pointed at him.

"My past?" They both spoke at the same time again.

"I had a visit to Vishwakarma mental institute," he spoke.

" Sir today you have just found out that the gun welding wife of yours has a history of mental illness.. Do you really need a good advice now?" The advisor whispered in his boss ears.

She threw the picture of the floor. He glanced at it for a moment. "you both leave," he told his staff, "me and my wife need a moment in silence."

She considered, he was not acting strange, not trying to run away. This was one quality she liked about him.

"I have something to tell you," he said.
"I am holding a gun," she reminded, "talk wisely."

He smiled.

"We don't have bullets in that gun. I purchased few today." He removed two bullets from his pocket.
She glanced at the bullets and asked, "You visited Vishwakarma institute?"

"Yes and I am really proud of you. You have recovered well."

"I owe you an explanation and so do you," she pointed the gun to the picture on the floor.
"Guess we both do," he said, "let's do it tonight, over a private dinner. Just the two of us?"
"We need to do that," she said lowering her gun.
He hugged her. As the body warmed together, he knew everyone has a past, its a matter of second chances. She knew if he gave her a second chance, she will give him to.

Bullets and bad news had entered the house at the same time. As they sat next to each other to talk, they knew, only one thing was needed now. Which one would be used by whom was to be seen.

[Short story] The Plot

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Wed, 05 Dec 2012 00:56:33 PST

For last ten minutes they were stuck at this signal. Few minutes ago there was a loud uproar about bandh and there was a lot of confusion. One taxi was broken in the middle of the street, causing frustration to increase. The humid heat of Mumbai was also not helping.

At the signal Ramesh was waiting patiently for the taxi to start. He had picked a passenger at the previous signal and was happy how the day started. His daughter’s birthday was next week. If only he could take two more long distance fare, he would buy her the cartoon shaped cake he had seen before. But his taxi had broken down all of the sudden in the middle of the signal.

Rakesh had just gotten into the cab, worried sick. This was the 7th job interview in last 2 weeks. He was rejected in the first six interviews. Today job interview was taken by a north indian. What chance did a poor Marathi boy who studied in Marathi medium have against those from fluent speaking convent educated outsiders? They should never have stepped into this city. He thought, sena pati was right, non Marathi should be kicked out.

Iliyas was grateful. Today was his first day of job as a taxi driver. Coming from a modest minority community, he had no chance of survival in this crazy city. But as luck would have it, he got this taxi on rent from its owner. All he had to do was pay a fixed amount to the owner per day and whatever he earned more was his salary. He was waiting for a fare yet and was parked behind ramesh taxi.

Jitendra was smoking a bidi at the local pan stall glancing at the traffic signal. This day was just like any other, he had woken up on a creaky bed in the chikalwadi chawl hearing fathers swear words. Go help your mother at the vada pav stall, his father used to scream. Imagine jitendra Bhai serving vada pav, he would be mockery of the colony. He was born for greater deeds and he knew that since beginning. This vada pav was for those lesser outsiders.

Rekha was looking for a taxi at the signal. She glanced sideways at Jitendra and murmured, hooligan. These hooligan are making this city inhabitable. What was their problem with the city name she didn't understand. She was doing everything she could to survive. People think getting a MBA degree is the end of world, it only begins. The hard part begins once you come out of b-school.

Ishwar was dashing down the street towards the signal. His sena pati was not well and he could do nothing about it. Ishwar came from a less known place in Maharashtra. He was supposed to contest for ZP elections and sena pati had given him his first chance. Sena pati believed in him when no one else did. This traffic was killing him. He had to reach his sena pati for one last time. His jeep broke down a few miles behind and he was running all the way.

Punyappa had only a month left to retire from the police service. He had a smooth service with very few hiccups. Living in a small chawl in Girgaon mumbai, he had very less to complain about to the merciless city. He just wished his last month in service will also go without any problems, without any troubles. Sena pati falling ill was a sign of trouble because the city was now on a boiling point. Everyone was tensed about what was going to happen. Punyappa was ashamed about his selfishness but he wished Sena Pati would not die on his watch. He could finally play with his grandchildren.
'If only the traffic would clear,' he thought wiping his sweat from the brow. The heat was killing him now.

Ishwar screamed at two taxis in front. Rakesh honked his horn for the thirteenth time. Rekha cussed at the public in general, what a bunch of wusses, she thought. Jitendra glanced at Rekha and cursed under his breath. A girl like her would never give him any thoughts, she thinks she is better than him. He spat on the ground once, someone should teach her a lesson. Ishwar was worried, 'Move on' and he glanced at Iliyas, for a moment, he froze. The traffic was not clearing, he had to do something.

Jitendra moved forward towards the signal frustrated. Rekha was still waiting to cross the road. Ramesh was struggling to start his taxi. Jitendra stood parallel to Ramesh and glanced once at Rekha, she clutched her bag tightly. He bend down and started pushing the taxi forward.
Ishwar also joined him and pushed the broken vehicle to the side. Together, they manage to clear the road. Ishwar was still upset, someone would pay. He glanced at Iliyas one last time and with full speed dashed to his taxi.

Without thinking he sat inside the taxi and asked him to move. Iliyas knew the destination, that is where he was heading. Ramesh got out and thanked Jitendra, who simply smirked, glanced at Rekha and left.

Havaldar Punyappa used his whistle to clear the remaining traffic. In few minutes the whole street was empty. Rekha crossed the street and walked to her office, glancing at Jitendra from the corner of the eye.

Punyappa also crossed the street walked to the Pan wala, "Too much humid, isn't it today?" he asked.
Jintendra replied yes and they both shared a smoke.

The stage was set but not the plot.

OMG: Oh My Godzilla!!!!

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 23:33:20 PST

There are two types of festival, one is social media festival where you receive a flood of social media messages and SMS with a awkward silence. 17 email forward with 70 people in reply to all, 5 SMS (because they are charged extra), 144 friends posted on Facebook about the festival. No tweets thankfully or maybe tweets get buried under other tweets (no complaints there).

Social media festivals are secular and geographically diverse. People sitting in Bangalore will freely wish their friends in India a "happy Halloween" without fail. There will be a flood of 'Happy Id' and 'Happy Duserra' posts from all the people irrespective of religious background.

The intensity of social media festival will increase with the proximity of it appearing near a weekend. Friday and Monday holidays are more welcome, next in line comes a Wednesday holiday its a welcome break in the middle of week but Thursday and Tuesday holidays are partially dreaded. Facing Monday before a holiday is worst.

Some festivals bring with it strangeness along with it. A few days ago me and my colleagues were going for lunch outside the office. As the normal office rule goes, the unhygienic stall outside the office will always serve tasty food than the office canteen. We were walking peacefully at the prospect of today's special vegetable at the food stall when Gupta paused right in the middle of the street and turned around.

Did his micromanager (the one in office who keeps track of how many times you go to the loo) finally figure out a way to telepathically send him signals?
Whatever the reason, he sprinted in the opposite direction. Ten minutes later when we were busy digging into usal pav, he came from other end. That man had done the same thing Columbus did in search for India. Travel from the west and reached east. He had completed a complete circle around the office to reach our stall. When we asked why, he explained that it was navratra in his town (9 days of Goddess worship) and during that period he avoids any path that has a non-veg restaurant in the way as the smell may spoil his festival.

Out of the many festivals in India, the most controversial one is Diwali. There is no harm and foul in celebrating a festival of lights and it looks real amazing to see whole city lit up. However, Diwali with itself brings a lot of fireworks, odd behavior and unexpected guests. Every frustrated, harassed and trouble person in this great nation gets his one chance of 'freaking' out at the expense of some poor souls on the street. They will exhibit behavior that is usually seen in psychopaths and sociopaths by using Diwali as an excuse to trouble dogs, neighbors and in general spoil environment.
Relatives will turn up at your doorstep as if it is their birthright to enjoy your hospitality in exchange of a Cabdury celebrations pack or a Haldirams gift pack. The festival of Diwali is celebrated in remembrance of the return of King Ram from a long weary battle in Lanka. Funny thing is, he never used so much fire power in the battle in Lanka that is used in these five days. However, the main reason why these crackers are bursted is not the happiness of kings return but peoples own frustration over their unincreased salary, no Diwali bonus and unemployment.

When office colleagues asked Mani Padma what is Karwa Chaut (festival where wifes are supposed to worship Husbands, yes festivals are crazy) she gleefully replied, "Devils worship." No one was pleased.

Festivals are too many and change region to region. Every 200 kms far the dates of festival changes along with its tradition. When foreign MNCs open up their Indian branches they had a exceeding headache trying to 'merge' as diverse holidays as they can without 'hurting' religious sentiments. Obviously 'religious' sentiments are hurt, specially when we don't get holidays that are on Monday and Friday.

And finally we love to celebrate these holidays, getting a paid time off to spend the day lazing around, gluttonously relishing on the sweets that are allegedly prepared for someone else other than you. Meet long lost friends, relatives and write a blog post at their expense (having known that they will never read it, especially, when you ask them to read it) and watch stupid flicks on television that make no sense or you have watched for like a dozen times but will still watch because television remote is out of your reach.

Because thats what life is, all you have to work is from one festival holiday to another. Enjoy the long weekend of Diwali while you can.

Happy Holidays or Diwali or whatever.

The hunt for electricity on a early Saturday morning

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 02:52:02 PST

This Saturday when I woke up to a very lazy morning, two things came to my mind. First, no new tweets were requiring my attention and second the phone was beeping softly trying to get my attention that battery level was critical 26%.

The second thing was easily fixable, not the first time when I left my phone unattented. If there is a late night Twitter revolution (lying on the bed in heating conversation on twitter) it is a tiresome task to put the phone on charging.

26% was a thing on concern. My phone was 1% away from losing his IQ. But let's talk about it later. The first problem was sinister, no new tweets in the morning meant that either the world has finally abandoned me or that there is a serious problem in my funny tweets.

Confused and confounded I got out of the bed and refreshed twitter to reload my tweets. Wife was waiting for me, as usual, to brush my teeth.

Me and my wife have creative differences on how one should spend a Saturday. I believe saturday should be spent in important task like lazing around, eating Maggie and catching up with a movie in HD. She believes Saturdays are for wasting on mundane task like cleaning the house, fixing electric coocker and repairing the broken basin pipe. We are working on it.

Worried about my twitter mentions I walked towards the kitchen towards the coffee pot and realized to my horror, it wasn't there. This was a code red alert, no coffee on a Saturday morning means, either I did not do something on Friday or did something that did not go well with the home ministry. My worries were increasing at every passing second as I saw my wife sitting quietly in the dining room.

"There is no electricity," she said quietly with the peace and calmness of a monk. This was silence before she turned into the girl from exorcist.

"Right," I said that's no biggie. Our apartment has a 24/7 electricity backup and I could picture the maintenance guy starting generator.

"Since morning..." I could sense the change in her tone. It suddenly dawned on me, no electricity. No WiFi, no tweets and no battery.

Without waiting a second I rushed to call the maintaince guy. This was bad, this was sand in swimsuit bad, no this was she-hulk on PMS bad, no no this was Barnab Screamswami sitting next to you talking on his phone in a state transport bus ride whose driver has become bus driver because his truck driving license was suspended for rash driving bad.

For last one week she was reminding me to pay the electricity bill and as a very honest husband I told her I'll pay it as soon as I reach office. And apparently I did not.

Actually, I have a disagreement with the BESCOM (state electricity board) board on when one should pay the electricity bill. They disagree with me.

I rushed out of the house (for sake of my safety) to the maintainance guy.

The phone beeped. 25%. There is was, the horror. The smartphone started its power saver program to make sure I have maximum power but at the personal sacrifice of all its internet connectivity. Now my smart phone was a dumb phone used only for calls and texting. As I crossed a few flights of stairs the phone indicated. 22%.

The horrors were true, as me and the maintainence guy found out, our electricity fuse was disconnected. Not only was fuse removed but the fuse was missing. Last time when we had similar disagreement, the BESCOM technician had simply removed it and kept it aside, I had walked there and reconnected the fuse.

Clearly the technician understood and this time, not only removed the fuse but took it with him. Early Saturday morning, which could otherwise be used for useful and important task like watching harry potter movie, was now spend talking to the maintainence guy about the options left with me.
I picked up my phone to call few of the local friends about options, "Why don't you pay the bill online," came the first suggestion by a friend to whom I had to explain that WiFi won't work without electricity. The second call was to a IT bitten friend who went to tell me that nobody works on a Saturday. In short I wasted 8% of my phone battery on two useless calls.
Battery life 14%.
Watchman suggested that I visit the BESCOM office and ask them for reconnection. Considering the other option was revisiting the girl from exorcist in a house without television or internet. I decided to take the early morning mission.
Battery life 12%
With no coffee or breakfast I found myself on the corner of the road signalling an auto rickshaw. There were two addresses given to me. The first one was straight forward so I decided to take that.
The driver as usual asked for a very high fare and when refused, as usual, reduced it to reasonable. Off we went to address number one. A long queue of gents outside suggested, I wasn't the only one forced to get out on a Saturday.
The sleepy looking registrar was talking on his phone loudly in Kannada. Taking deep breath I stood patiently waiting for him to finish his call.
Battery life 10%
He looked up and spoke something in Kannada. I looked around there was nobody in office, so I politely told him Hindi please. He again spoke in Kannada but this time pointed to the bill in my hand.
"Not here..." he said, "this department is somewhere else."
I took the updated address and walked out of the office to the different 'depadtment'. The address was confusing and it took the extreme linguistic skills of the driver to navigate throught the lanes of Bangalore.
Battery life 9%

It took 1% of battery life to reach the said address and a grumpy looking man in mustache spoke in fluent Kannada. The auto driver was instantly promoted to hindi to kannada translator and started explaining in Hindi that I had to pay the bill and connection will be restored back in the evening.
I paid the bill in cash and talked to the technician. I tried to appeal to him as a human to restore the connection. I asked him, maybe I can take the fuse back to restore connection myself.
Did it sound ransom call? Maybe.

The technician looked at me and keeping a poker face said, "Fuse is in your apartment. It is kept hidden..."
Battery life 8%.

As the sherphard from 'The alchemist' I laughed loudly at the final revelation. Taking the location of my treasure, returned to my apartment proudly and installed the fuse.
I walked those stairs as if I was Thomas Edison or his genetic offspring. On this Saturday, I had escaped from 'I told you so' of my wife, I had discovered electricity and would soon find out I had tremendous RT and 5 more followers.
As I stepped into the house, electric coffee maker sizzled to life, fresh aroma was waiting for me along with chocolate fondue for breakfast.
I now know how Superman felt. I now know how...
"Did you call the plumber?" Wife asked, "the shower is leaking..."
And life continues.

Angrezi Vangrezi...

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Tue, 16 Oct 2012 11:14:55 PDT

Life is like a lift sometimes you get inside to go up, sometimes you use it to come down. And sometimes when you are waiting in the lobby for the lift to arrive to take you upwards to your desired floor, some bum comes from behind presses the button to go down and proudly announces to his wife, "You see the lift if up so if you want to bring it down, press down..." the wife looks at her all-knowing husband proudly as if he is the sole survivor of the battle that eradicated the entire hemisphere.

English has a bad reputation wherever it goes. Condemned by the roman catholic church as the impure language, it soon gained popularity as the largest job gaining language in the world. British left India in the hurry, but did not expect many Indians to follow them. Not only follow them but master over their own language better than they do and then take away the jobs back. India is an empire in English, all different types of english exist in co-harmony. There is the 'righta' and 'lefta' of South India and then there is 'Jara give me that chacha glass one litre' of North India is also acceptable form of English. In the west Marathi people talking in Hindi praise the language of English over others, while the east (who usually make no noise) have their own set of Lanbage of English.

In this world of globalization when your friend who used to play with you in boxer starts with the sentence, "In our america...." you do feel the urge of slapping him hard to remind him, he has returned not to gloat but to find a job.

My tryst with English began in the first month after marriage on the lazy Sunday morning. Since marriage it has became increasingly difficult to chose between James Bond and Wife. I mean you have to listen to the later even thought James Bond is sizzling with Kristina Wayborn in Octopussy.

"Will you turn that off..." the wife screamed.
"Its James Bond, how can I turn it off?" I replied, honestly, seriously who can stop watching From Russia with Love on a Sunday morning.
"Since morning you are just lazing around on this bean bag watching these english movies," she complained.
"This is not an ordinary film... this is From Russia with Love..." I protested, "This is The James Bond movie. It is part of the ritual of being a guy..."
"Ritual of being a guy?" her attention was diverted for a bit.
"1. You read a magazine sitting in the toilet. 2. Dream about threesome after marriage and 3. Watch Sean Connery James Bond movies..." I explained.
"This english films have corrupted you completely you American Wannabe..." she shouted, "Day and night you just watch these english shows and movies...if you can't help me with the household work at-least get up from that chair so I can clean it out."
With the grace of James Bond I got out of the chair ducking the missile made of cane jhadu and she continued cleaning the house. Woman Eh, don't value the value of James Bond movie marathon on a Sunday morning.

As the ancient Sunday ritual goes, I was lazing around the local mall (which are in too much number around Bangalore, more than apartments) a conversation caught my eye (no its not a typo the 'conversation' was 'eye catchy')

"So I will be getting a year warranty on these shades..." she spoke in as much fake american ascent as she could.
"Yes Madam," the salesman said, "This warranty a year you get..." in as much fake english as he could, "Fill this warranty card for mine please..."
She took a glance at the warranty card and then looked up, "What date format do you use? American or Indian..."
We were in the heart of south-india where no where in a million kilometers anyone used American date format (what is that format exactly?) and this guy did not even know if there is any date format. "Hindi...." he said hurriedly, "We use Hindi date format."

English is made almost mandatory at the school level, when my four year old niece learned the words, she preferred the word 'No' over others.

"Can I have your ice cream?" I asked in English encouraging her to understand and speak.
"No..." she answered smartly.
"Can I taste it atleast?" I insisted.
"No..." she answered.
"Do you know anything else other than no?" I asked teasing her.
"No no no no no...." she replied correctly but accidentally.

The silence of the fallen

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 02:15:39 PDT

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

"There is a story about that scar and I want to know it...," Jonny said casually joining the table at the high-school reunion. The whole gang was there together except Jagdish who could not fly in to their reunion.

The scar in question was the mark on face of Ravi, who had driven all the way to Goa from remote village of Karnataka. The group of six or the sinister six, as they were known in college, had gathered together as they had promised ten years after college in the remote shack in Goa. Ravi, Jonny, Jagdish, Bobby, Mangesh and Pankaj had first met during the common detention in their first year in college. These six from six different departments and branches had one thing in common, on the fateful day of Sixteenth December Ninteen Ninteety Nine they all were detained in their respective department for crime so sinister that they were send to the office of director for punishment.

Since then the six made it a point to meet every five years in this old shack. They shared their life and adventures together and laughed at the day when the six met. It was at this meeting only five could come because unknown to the other three Jagdish was killed a year back in the diamond valley. Only Ravi and one other person knew about this in the group.

After college Ravi had made his way into the world doing many odd jobs. He was a bully in his college but in the real life, he realized, there where bigger bullies than him. After a while he joined a private security consultant or a bounty hunter. He would take a lot of money to protect someone or bring something back. A year back Ravi received a call from Jagdish, who after college had turned into a treasure hunter. Treasure hunting was a passion for Jagdish who would go on private funded and government funded missions to excavate gold, diamond, precious stones. His profit was 10% of the find.

All was going fine until he stumbled upon diamond valley. Diamond valley was a bad omen from the start. It was a diamond mine found accidentally by Jagdish during a hiking trip with few friends. The valley was called Devils Omen by the natives as they feared there lived a ancient devil in the valley protecting the demons. They protested excavation of the diamonds for the fear of the demon to be unleased on this world.

Jagdish was not going to be deterred by these small things. He went on with the plan of excavating the diamonds until he... was betrayed. He was killed by someone in this group who betrayed him and killed him in those diamond mines.

Only, one thing, Jagdish had called Ravi on the night of his murder, he mentioned that he was calling members of the sinister six for this finding. The next day when Ravi reached the mine, he saw his friend lying in the pool of blood. Before he could do anything, in the darkness of the diamond mine someone attacked him on his face giving him the scar on the face permanently.

The attacker fled but he knew one among the five was there. Jagdish had called someone else before him and that person had betrayed the friend. One year Ravi waited patiently for the attacker to return but no one came. The attack was for diamonds and whoever had attacked had foiled in his plan to make profit out of it. He knew the attacked would not resist killing him at this get-together, after all it was the question of 100 million diamonds, people have killed their friends for less.

Ravi drove all the way for the get-together to find out if someone was missing, apparently no one, everyone was here. So the killer was here too. The game was on and out of the five here, one of the four was planning to kill him. Ravi had plans of his own.

Rubbing his scar, Ravi smiled back at Jonny and replied to his casual inquiry about the scar, "Nothing much, just another days work..."

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

The Last Rock On Which Universe Collapses

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 03:48:15 PDT

Seven million light years away from my home planet and here he was, drifting across the cosmos. Feeding on the anti-matter energies in this single spaceship he had reached here were everyone would like to reach. Heaven.

Was this heaven? He did not know but it surely did not look like it. In his front was the debris of the universe, a large chunk of astroid that contained nothing but dust and rocks. Spread across miles this uncharted space in the universe this bedrock was the final resting place for anyone going beyond. For beyond this rock rest the vast openness... the end of the universe. The astroid had no physical properties, it had no mass, no height, no breath nothing. It simply was.

He landed his spaceship carefully on the rocks or as careful as he could crash. This is it, he thought, mankind giant leap. He smirked, about 2000 years ago, humans had landed on the moon and though that was their greatest achievement. He knew the drill, what the humans always did to find new planets.
He had done this before, with the military precision he removed the equipment from his ship. His task was to find a nice spot and establish a communication link back to earth. Ears at the end of the universe, ether waves travelling through vacuum.

He was struggling to fix the communication satellite on the ground but the instrument won't stay in its place. He struggled for a while when he heard the voice,

"It won't fix..." the voice said from behind, "I tried for a long time almost a decade and then gave up. This asteroid does not have any physical characteristics. You cannot install anything on this."

He turned around to the source of the voice.

An old man stood behind him watching him struggle. He wore simply rags and was standing tall over him.

"Who are you?" he immediately turned around, he had not anticipated any living creature on this debris. That left to only one conclusion.
"Who do you think?" the old man asked smiling.
"Are you God?"

The old man looked at him and then at the sky above, then again turned at him, "God... that is good, an old concept, older than creation... and no," he paused, "I am not God..."

"What are you doing at this debris then?" he asked, "And again.... who are you?"
"I am a traveller came here a long time ago...and now am..." he again looked up at the open sky, "Do you want a drink?"
"We get drink here?" he asked, thinking about the drink he was making as he got out of the spaceship.

"No, just being polite... we get nothing here. This is it, the buck stops here and everything else. The end of the universe. The alpha and the omega and everything else..."
"Everything?" he asked not ready to accept it, "The universe is ever expanding.... how can it end here?"

"It ends here...this bedrock is the rock on which this end of the universe balances. This stone is a void, it has no physical characteristics and no beginning or end. Beyond this remains only darkness," he pointed to the large black sun in the sky.
"Is that...." he gasped, "Is that a black-hole? Are we orbiting a black hole?"
"Indeed," the old man said, "Black hole... yes... we are orbiting a black hole...."

"But if it is a black-hole, how come we are not sucked into it? Everything else is getting sucked in..." he said looking around.

"The void rock..." the old man smiled, "It took me a while to understand this mystery but finally understood. This rock does not exist and its the reality that is passing away into that void..."

"This is so interesting... " he said exclaiming, "What if there is another reality out there? What if beyond that void is another Universe, maybe a parallel universe. Maybe another reality..."

"Maybe..." the old man said, "But I don't think so. This is all that is, just like this rock, this black-hole also is... there is nothing beyond it, nothing before it..."

"But there is a reality before this... and there should be a reality beyond this. How can there be not? How will we ever find out until we jump through?"

"Maybe some things you have to take as they are..." the old man replied.

"But I cannot take it. I have to find out, I started on the quest to explore everything. Tell you what, I am going beyond... beyond everywhere the man has even been... I am going to be the man...."
He sat back in his spaceship and starting off the engine.

"So you have decided then?" the old man said, "You will find out the final mystery that is left for you to find out..."
"And what is that, oh why old man?" he asked.
"You will finally find out who am I...."

The engines roared fire as the spaceship kicked off into the void. He smiled as he entered the darkness. First his ship travelled through complete darkness and then big rocks. There was no direction, he survived at the expense of two engines of his spaceship.

His spaceship nearly destroyed and so was his will power. He drifted in the void in the debris of his ship for almost a century, time mattered not in this darkness. His body aged with time, he turned ten years older in just two minutes. But he survived like the countless humans who survive through time, again and again.

Soon there was a light amidst the darkness. Soon there was a opening, like a morning sun after a dark night he saw a glimpse of light. Barely alive, his mind screamed, 'Yes... finally,' he thought, 'a human beyond the universe...'

His mind pushed him towards the opening with all his left will power. He knew this was it, this was the final push. The final destination.

No ship, all in tatters, aged a lot he still carried the will to do the impossible. With all the energy he could summon he pushed through to the light. The light blinded him and he felt something strong beneath his feet. He kissed the land below and looked around, he had finally made it. He had made it to the end of the world and beyond...

The world looked familiar, it was same as the world he came through. The world was familiar. He had landed on the void rock again. He looked up and saw the black-hole consuming everything. He was back from where he started. There was no other world, there was nothing. Where is that old man? He though looking around, there was nobody on the planet.

A distant rumbling was heard as he turned his head in the direction of the sound.

"Oh," where the words barely audible from his mouth as he saw the spaceship appear from the distant. The man got down from the ship and got busy establishing the communication device.

Limericks Poem: the little genius

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Sun, 30 Sep 2012 00:04:53 PDT

Once upon a time in a land far far away,
was a village where twins Chinki and Minki used to play.
Chinki was smart, Chinki studied well.
Minki was brave, and Minki learned well.
Chinki is a genius her father used to say.

One day dacoits raided the village and tried to run with the loot.
They removed the guns and started to shoot.
The villages froze and started to shiver.
Cattles afraid, ran to the river.
But Minki acted smart and the dacoits had to scoot.

One day there was drought in the village,
dry spell destroyed the crops and foliage.
Chinki stood there watching like a fool.
Minki implemented irrigation as taught in school.
Thus she saved the day and her created a fresh tillage.

But at the year end her father scolded Minki and gifted Chinki a dress,
and why did he do that can you guess?
For Chinki came first in class.
while Minki managed to just pass.
He loved to see the paper and not the success.

P.s. I know its a bad attempt, but still a attempt. Tell me honestly what do you think.

But you are an Indian...

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 10:46:53 PDT

Hen:"You don't eat with your hands?"
Me: "No..." getting busy with my food using spoon and fork.
Hen: "But you are an Indian, why don't you eat with your hands?"
Me: "What?"
Hen: "Oh c'mon its obvious, I know you Indians eat food with your own hands chicken curry tikka masala."

Moral of the story: Saying some random looking words with curry in middle does not refer to any delicacy prepared in India.

Another one.

Hen: "Followed the match last night?"
Me: "No."
Hen: "You kidding? It was India vs Pakistan. What sort of Indian are you?"
Me: "I did not know watching India vs Pakistan cricket match was one of the nationality criteria."

Moral: I have better things to do.

And the cherry.

Hen: "You stole my job..."
Me: "Excuse me?"
Hen: "You Indian steal our jobs to your country."
Me: "I simply am doing my job, just as you. The only person who 'stole' your job was your employeer."

Moral: Seriously?

The above three incidents are true and have happened recently. Hen is a gender neutral pronoun and all the three are from three different countries. Just another exciting weekend.

Twice

hi5@sidoscope.co.in (Siddhesh kabe) — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 11:51:01 PDT

Traffic

Millions thoughts raced in his head as he stared at the red light. Each thought more dangerous than the next. In two continuous seconds he considered committing suicide and then contemplated murdering his boss in next instant. As the light stared at him, he thought back on his life.

Just like the red it was not moving. Stagnant. Obviously he was promoted twice in the last two years but it only meant more bosses to report to and more responsibility.

He thought about how lucky the people walking were, they don't have to take this shit day in and out, do they? His thoughts were cut back with the sudden surge in traffic as the signal turned green. He drive off in his Mercedes not remembering anything from before.

Just another day at the traffic signal.

Torture

'It took me 8 years to help him escape, give him his well deserved freedom. You should have seen the look on his face, when he realized he was finally free. Free from the system, free from trouble. Free from that shitty food. And when finally he was enjoying his new life...'
'Go on...please.'
'I killed him with a nail cutter.'
'Nail cutter? You gotta be kidding me...'
'Every tool is a weapon if you use it right, madam.' he said calmly.
'So, how did you kill him?'
'Slowly...'
'Slowly?'
'I was waiting for this day for 8 years, as if Ill spend two bullets and get over with it?'