The train...

“Hey, you, let me in… I got here first…” Anand said.
“Hello, mister… That’s not my problem.. Now don’t you dare push me… I’ll get in… you come in after me...”
“Are you sure you want to get in?”
“Of course, I want to… I have no other choice…”said Badri solemnly “Now, move aside or I’ll smash your nose…”
“Hey, hey, wait a minute…”Deva alleged “that’s my luggage you’re carrying in… See, it has my name on it…”
“Oh… Sorry sir, it was a mistake…”
“Where is she? She’s gonna be late as usual… Doesn’t she come early atleast once in a while?”Chandran enquired.
“Now, don’t you go about scolding her again.. She’ll be here any minute…”









“Anyone sitting here?” asked Badri.
“Can’t you see? Does it look like someone is sitting there? Now don’t make a fuss and sit down” said Chandran.
“Hello everyone…I’m Deva”
“We didn’t ask…Anyway I’m Anand...And you are…?”
“Well, I’m Badri…”
“ I’m Chandran…”
“And I’m Elakya…”said someone from behind, panting.
“Well, finally you’re here…I was beginning to worry about you… Why do you always come late huh?”said Chandran.
“You both are husband and wife, I presume?”
“Of course not. I’m his sister…I’d be sorry if I was his wife...!”
“hey, that was mean… You know, I really don’t get angry all the time…Only sometimes…”
“Yeah…Yeah…ONLY sometimes…”
“Hey, anyway, how did you all land up here?” asked Deva “Did you all receive the letter like I did?”
“What letter are you talking about?”said Anand “The one that said… Come one, come all…the experience of your lifetime awaits you…An all-expenses paid trip to...thingy?”
“Yeah…that one…”
“Hey, I received one too…”
“Me too…”
“You mean, you got one and you didn’t tell me?” Chandran rolled his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me first?”
“Hey, stop it… Don’t start fighting again…”
“Ask him to stop first…”
“What did I do? You should’ve told me…”
“Shut up…Don’t argue you two…You’re getting on my nerves…” snapped Deva.
“Where are you from anyway?” asked Anand.
“Well, I’m from Ahmedabad…”said Badri.
“I’m from Chennai and she’s too…” said Chandran, indicating Elakya.
“Yeah, ok…I’m from Bangalore…and you?”
“Well…I’m from Bangalore too…But you don’t look bengaluru….” Anand pointed to Deva.
“Of course I am. Don’t be an idiot…”
“Whatever…I’m not going to argue…I’m tired…”
“I think we’ll all sleep for a while now…What do you say?”
“Good idea… Been a while since I slept peacefully…You know. Been travelling throughout…”
“Great…Should I put off the lights?”
“Wait…Wait…”
“Who the hell is that…?”
“…At this time too?”
“Hello…Everyone…I’m the TTR…Now, show me your tickets…”
“Tickets...? But, we don’t have any?”
“What do you mean you don’t have any? In that case, you need to step off the train…”
“Sir, please…We’re tired…We’ll buy tickets from you now…We don’t mind paying double..”
“You don’t huh?”said the TTR “well, then… ok… Now, out with five lakhs…”
“Five lakhs? You don’t need to worry sir… The government will send the money to my family. I’ll ask them to send it to you. And anyway, they said it was an all-expenses paid trip…”
“Where to, sir? The letter didn’t mention…”
“Don’t you know? There is only one destination for this train…”
“Where to...?”
“Well, wait and see…”
“Anyway… Could you leave us to sleep sir? We’re tired…”
“Yes, of course guys… Take care…”
As the train chugged along peacefully towards heaven, the lights were turned off and the victims of the blasts began snoring.

God's own country

I desperately wanted to visit this place,
They say its god’s own country,
With mystic powers and endless life,
And freshness of soul, mind and body.

They say its nature at her best,
Endless streams, rainbows and falls,
Flowers of myriad colors and
The smell of nectar, clear and pure.

I was in a fix,
Mom and dad won’t allow me to,
You’ve got your exams and,
A degree to complete,
They don’t understand, they never will.

But then I read about people who visited this place,
And so I thought,
Why not give it a shot.
So that’s what I did,
And I’m here now,
God’s own country.
The travel is simple,
You don’t need trains, cars or buses,
Or even ships and airplanes,
All you need,
Is a fan and a rope.

Yours truly, Wasted...

“You are shit and you know you are!!!”

Don’t get carried away by the fact that I’m writing good English. I’m not. This writer, what’s his name, Vishnu Vardhan, is translating my thoughts into words. At least I think that’s what he said to me. I felt grateful. People like me don’t get a sympathetic ear. Our woes, our lives never really matter.

I’m just a normal guy. Or maybe, an abnormal guy. The one who doesn’t compete for fame, money, recognition or even girls. I wish that I could. This writer always says that I can if I believe, but he’s a load of shit. He happens to be my friend but that doesn’t mean he can lie to me. I constantly happen to be the butt of jokes but people do feel sad for me too. That is my only achievement till date.

You see, I’m the guy with eight arrears in first year. I’m the guy with a flat nose and oversized ears and an ugly face. I’m the guy without a girlfriend, without a brain and without an authority over life. I’m a guy who people detest to talk to, I’m a guy who strangers shy away from, I’m a guy who gets labeled and taunted.



It’s not that I don’t try. I do. I still do find it tough to cope. I find guys around me finishing their studies by the time I get to mug the first question thoroughly. Sometimes, I wish that I could smash their heads and damage their brains. I feel jealous and angry. But I’m gifted with one of God’s worst creations. An out-of-vogue, expired brain. It’s not the kind that others have been gifted with. This one is a cross between the autistic and the artistic brain. That’s the problem. If it had been the former, I would have been sympathized with and had it been the latter, I would have been… well, anything under the sun. But, with a brain that malfunctions and sometimes doesn’t function at all, I don’t have a chance. Or rather, I don’t have a choice. I’m famous. That’s why loads of guys approach me and ask “Hey dude, how many arrears this term?” or “Hey buddy, haven’t got a girlfriend yet?”… I don’t enjoy the attention. All those lecturers, the kind that bore you by speaking in unknown tongues (this writer assures me that it’s English) show no compassion too. I’m a constant fixture outside the door. My seat is always unoccupied. People call me “the sentry of the class” whatever that means. I’ll do you all a favor by not talking about sports or other “extra-curricular” activities. I’m better of at studies than at cricket or volleyball. I spend most of the games periods by the sidelines watching geniuses at work.

Even I do have a heart that needs love. Love from someone apart from my parents. Wherever I go, I just meet couples, couples and couples. I travel in the bus and there are couples in front of me, around me, and behind me. I feel let down. Even as this girl puts her head on his shoulders and he strokes her hair, my heart misses a beat. I have the sudden urge to reach out and touch her. She looked so divine. It’s in those moments when you feel your heart growing heavy, when you feel something decomposing within. I know I can never have a proper girlfriend like that. The girls never glance at me a second time. The first time is a necessity for assessment. I only get the chance to look at a girl when some of my friends ask me to accompany them while they talk to their girlfriends. Now, don’t misunderstand me. These friends of mine are nervous when they talk and they need someone who can calm them down and if that someone is ugly, then the better it is for them as they can talk without fear of their girls ditching them for the more-handsome-companion. Some girls have actually spoken to me and though it is out of compulsion to convey information about the laboratory we need to go next or something else of that nature, I feel happy just to listen to and look at them. But, mostly and at all crucial moments, I end up getting tongue-tied. I open my mouth to speak, but no words pour out. If only girls could read my thoughts. “That’s so kind of you…” or “Is that so? Oh thank you… Why did you have to take the trouble?” That would have won them over.

I feel sad when I meet my parents. They are poor and live in the village and they have high hopes that I will help them financially and emotionally in their later years. They take loans of one lakh rupees every year just to pay for my studies. But, I know I’ll never be able to repay the money or even repay their faiths. I wish that dad could stop me from going to college and allow me to take up farming but I’m not able to face him. I don’t wish to tell him the truth that his son is a failure. My marks will tell, no doubt. But even that doesn’t put off my father, who will willingly and ever so innocently attribute the cause to the difficulty in settling down in a new environment.

I do pick up fights with my hostel mates sometimes. When their jokes get more sinister than funny, I confront them. But not any more. I remember that day clearly. When my friend ridiculed me in front of his gang of losers, I collared him and pined him to the wall. I asked him, why he did this to me. I will never forget his reply ever. This fellow said “You are shit and you know you are…” I let him go even as his friends laughed in approval. I wanted to run away from that place. Wanted to run away from the college, from the city, from life itself. I wanted to run away from God, who created me this way. I have never been the same since.

They say that one needs to die when one becomes a burden or an embarrassment to others. That means that I need to die young and now. I’ve contemplated suicide many times but I can’t gather enough courage to carry out the act. I have spoken about it to no one else but this writer. He’s my only true friend ever. If not for him, you would have to make do with laughing at a wall-hanger with flowers around it. If not for him, you would not be reading this story. I thank him for that. I must leave now.

Thanking you all for listening to me,
Yours truly,
“Wasted”

Another one of those poems...

I still can't move on
but I want to anyway,
I've been alone
though you're still here.

And if the world comes crashing
down on me suddenly,
Will I have you by my side then ?
If not, I'd wait for another sunrise,
hoping that you and I come by.



Your silence is starting to kill me,
Your eyes still manage to drill me
I just want you to 'give me.
Give me a chance, I will never be unfaithful,
I've wronged and I am sorry.
Will you be by my side
or will I have to do without
my life, my body and soul ?

I love you...

Our paths will get shifted, day after day,
And I don’t know what to do.
Our life will get twisted, time after time,
And I feel so sad and down.
Oh should it be forever,
Can’t it be a never ?
Your voice will haunt me,
Your eyes will kill me,
I will never be the same again.
Take me with you, wherever you go,
I can’t bear to see to you alone.



I still remember, all the time,
That we used to share and own.
The moments stolen, the magic woven,
Will haunt me till my death.
All the laughter, that cries of after,
Will be with me, till my end.
Your voice will haunt me,
Your eyes will kill me,
I will never be the same again.
Take me with you, wherever you go,
I can’t bear to see to you alone.