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I have started to sleep less since last week not because I have to wake up an hour earlier than usual, but because I do not want to miss the fun in life by sleeping earlier than usual. I have started to run as well on weekends and I look forward to it. Since I moved back to Dubai in 2014, I have made quite a few friends from all walks of life. There were 8 of us in a closed group, 4 couples. Continue reading

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Time

Have you ever wondered about the design of time? Well, I have.

It exists as naturally as the constant vibration of the cosmos, and as artificially as the tick of the second hand of a wall clock. The passage of time reflects in everyday life as effortlessly as breathing. Time serves the same purpose to existence as oxygen serves to life on earth. None can survive without either. A thinking mind knows no limitations when it comes to imagination, so let us stop using logic for a little while and play the game of imagination. Continue reading

Bohni*

‘Bhenchod! This shutter gets stuck only at the time of bohni!’ grunted Chandan, trying to roll up the shutter of his shop, ‘and this Raju is of no use as well. I’ve been continuously telling him to get it repaired! Madarchod, all he wants is to smoke beedis, that’s all!’

Even at the age of sixty, Chandan had never been a minute late than six o’ clock in the morning to open his shop of medical supplies in Nauroji Nagar market. Opening the shop earlier than everyone provided him an extra edge over the other chemists near Safdarjung hospital or even the ones in front of AIIMS. Doctors at both the hospitals were aware of Chandan’s routine of opening his shop earlier than usual, therefore most of the midnight patients were told to buy medicines from his shop. Continue reading

The City of BHENCHODS

I am going to piss you off. I rephrase my first sentence. I am going to piss off most of you because some of you already know the truth and accept it wholeheartedly.

DELHI IS A CITY OF BHENCHODS Continue reading

The Woodcutter

Continued from The Leaf Plucker

Before I decided to pick up my father’s axe and become a woodcutter, I was a shepherd. My family possessed multiple herds of cattle. It included sheep, goats and buffaloes. We lived among many other families and moved places after every few months. The main reason for such nomadic lifestyle was to keep our cattle alive and be able to feed it. When the number of animals grew more than we could handle, we would sell them. The money helped us relocate. It would take months before we decided to settle in on a new location. It irritated me to leave our place of living every year and find a new one. My father told me it was not necessary, but it was a tradition. Our ancestors had been traveling all around the country. It was not in our blood to settle down at one location and be able to raise our families in normal human social structure. I always found it difficult to understand. So, when my father died, I decided to break off. I took my share of cattle and set out to find a new place for myself, where I could settle down for the rest of my life. Continue reading

Cursed

Raju, Munna & Aslam were together for as long as they remembered. They did not like each other much, but their work required them to be in each other’s regular company. They were scrap pickers. They paid regular visits to the industrial areas spread in Gurgaon, Faridabad, Delhi and Noida, fill their lorries with unattended scrap and deliver it to their boss, who further supplied it to the big shot industrialists to melt the metal and manufacture brand new products.

Diwali was around the corner and Delhi was buzzing with late night movement of life. On Diwali eve, the trio decided to call it off a little bit early and take a metro trip back to their home in Shahadra, where they had rented a shop as it was cheap and there was no time bondage to come and go. They stopped work at 9 and bought some beers just before the closing time of the liquor shop. Continue reading

Survival

“Bloody rats! Curse you! Curse you to your death!”, he shouted in anger.

The rats felt the wrath for a while, as they hid themselves behind the sack but as soon as he quieted, rats began running all over the sack once again, passing in and out of the sack through the several holes they created. He tried his best to fill the gaping holes with more rags, but rats had developed a taste for the rags. Rags were bitten away sooner than they were put to shut the gaps.

It was mid winter and in northern India. Two seasons are considered the worse by the homeless citizens of the country. Mid-winter, when it is chilly enough to freeze anybody to death and mid-summer when heat waves across northern India mercilessly takes uncountable lives. There was a time when such news used to become the head lines of the daily news, but as India prospered and wealth started pouring in, the news agencies started to give more importance to the coverage of political scams, international visits of the various Head of State personnel and sports. Common man was left behind and he learned to live thinking of himself as nothing more than an instrument to be used by political parties once in every five years. Continue reading