Posts

|| world

Peter was fascinated by the parallel world, another world somewhere in this universe just like us, or may be even better. He quit his job to find one such world. The society branded him insane. His friends exclaimed why on earth you want to find out about another earth Peter was a stubborn kid. He grew up with the stubbornness. He wanted to prove something to the society. During his research he figured out that to search for a parallel world one needs so.ething that can travel faster than light.  Books, universities, professors, internet none of it provided him answer. His frustration grew day by day. His grandpa saw his franstration in the form or dark circles unattended beard. Once well dresses corporate executive now looked like a mad man His grandpa one day asked Peter as to what was bothering him. Mocking his grandpa's academic knowledge his said 'I want something that travels faster than light' With a subtle smile on his face he said thought.. Thoughts travel fast...

Urn god

Image
I had spent half of my childhood here. Yelling, screaming, rejoicing. I still hear those echoes now. Those desi games that we played here, those fights I had here just passed by my mind. Those huge copper urns always fascinated me. The scar on my hand, the Scar, still reminded me how angry the Maha Darshari was when I tried to open the urn's seal. 15 years hence and I had decided to do my thesis on this very temple. May be it was that childhood fantasy of mine to know what is  in those urns. I had studied so much about Indian culture and never seen a caste, sect, religion, tribe worship an urn, sealed urn. I started off with an apology to the Vāsaṇa prabhu as we referred to it, loosely translated to urn god. Apology was that ‘oh god forgive me, forgive me for the fact that I will unravel the mystery inside you’. With a small pause I said 'bless me' The temple had history. It was the royal temple; it belonged to the Maharaja of Thane. The priests once were t...

Girl on the window

G i r l at t he w ind ow  Y ou mee t a l ot o f p e op le d ur ing your dail y tr a v el . S tr ange rs, y e t your c o m p ani o n . T hi s story i s ab out o ne su ch c o m p ani o n , P ink .  P ink i s a 3- y ea r - o ld gi r l . I ac tu all y d o n ot kn ow he r name . I call he r P ink beca us e s he ha s g ot ad or able p ink cheek s .  I s ee he r alm ost e v e ry da y f ro m m y o ffice cab . S he st a ys in an o ld h ous e nea r t he F r a z e r tow n s ignal . S he puts he r chin o n t he w ind ow and kee ps w a v ing he r hand to all t he p a ss e rs b y . S o me r e spo nd back , so me d o n ' t e v en n ot ice .  I eage r l y w a t ch t h rou gh m y cab w ind ow w hile w e p a ss t ha t s ignal . S o me t ime s w hen I am b usy t alking w i t h m y cab - ma t e s , I r e p en t f or n ot ha v ing s een he r t ha t da y .  O ne da y I am g o ing to m y o ffice o n m y bike . M y hea rt bea ts fa st e r out o f e x ci t emen t w hile I w...