The film begins

The film begins

Episode 1

I’m still just a beginner when it comes to using the hand dryer at mall restrooms. It doesn’t dry my hands completely. Or is that how things work there. Why am I even thinking about this now?

Especially, when I have a girl waiting for me outside. And Good heavens this mall had the parking stairs. I could sneak in inspite of being late.
What am I gonna tell her for being late?

‘The hand dryer is messed up!’

Its time to silence my doppelganger talking, with the Ads and Anthem that’s going to be played inside the theatre. Its time to walk out. Because, if I don’t, she might complain about my missing to the Mall Security.

I started walking out and there I saw her. Wait! That’s some other girl. I wore my specs! Now I saw her, smiling at me.

‘Hi, Hand dryer.’
Shut the Fuck Up! CONFUSED BARATH.

I got to her, “Hi, Sorry for keeping you waiting…”

“No, Not a problem. I walked in only now.” and another smile.

‘You can walk in 3 hours later too.. But don’t forget to smile. Because if you forget, I can’t write poetry about you for your Birthday’ I thought.

“The hand dryer is messed up!”

Shut Up Barath!!! Wait! I did not say that. To confirm I asked, “What?” She told, “The hand dryer inside was not working properly.”

That screwed-up hand dryer. Yayy!! Its my turn to talk about the Men’s hand dryers’ mechanics. But I was satisfied with, “This problem happens everywhere. They care a lot about what’s on the outside and forget that the inside things keep everything going.” “Wow! Metaphorical and philosophical Barath is!” she told, she really did.

“Did you interpret it that way? You are so cool” I told her. Someone play that happy tears Music here, please.

“I don’t hear that cool part often” she dragged. “I think I should tell this frequently.. if you want” we started walking.

“That won’t change my inside” she told.

“Nothing should. Except for you talking to yourself, nothing can change your inside” I cleverly replied.

Then she looked at me. That’s the kinda look they talk about in my kinda movies. Barath! don’t try explicating this. I caught her looking at me and still she did not turn away. I was living the second and then she turned aside. What ran in her mind then? I’m just clueless.

Then I asked, “Why were you looking at me that way?” “I.. I can’t tell! You find out” she told taking a pause.

‘I shouldn’t have asked that!’ I did not know how to react after those words. That’s when some lines from PULP FICTION came running to my left cerebral hemisphere.
“That’s when you know you have found somebody really special. When you can just Shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share a silence.”

She followed me to the theatre door and then our movie began.

-just barath ©

The 2nd Episode- Something’s brewing
P.s. Barath will be the name only till I find a name for that role. Yeah! It’s just a name.

 

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the hand-written letter

So long!
I have walked so much. You know it! Because the wind pushed your hands into mine and I held it. That kept me walking all those miles along with my ambitious ambitions. I have.. Sorry! I had no idea of leaving it. Until that moment, you felt my hand was so cold and I had to decide between walking alone or giving you moments of discomfort. I chose to leave it. What a fool I was.. I am to have such a thought! 

Was it so cold? My hand! Because, when hands turn cold, they become numb, you don’t feel nothing. But I could feel every small moment of your fingers which were inside my hand. No! I don’t mean to tell you were lying. And you too understand that I am not lying. So, rethink everything and come back to me. I’ll give you the warmth which I guess you want. But, if you don’t want anything I can give that too. I cannot employ some other sentence there. You know that!                                               Was it really cold? Ah! Sorry for asking that over again. I am becoming a normal guy without our ‘we’ moments.

No more Wind-Fingers Shit. Simply hold my hand and punish me with that chill I gave you. Men’s body temperature is comparatively higher I’ve heard.

Only yours
even after the mind defeats the heart.
just barath ©

And they ‘might have’ lived happily one second at a time.. for they knew happily ever-afters are one of the greatest lies History and Art have put-forth

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We create

One, one person

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“Chai, chai”, the dirty, uninteresting tea vendor was shouting by the Railway Station. But he was interesting to just one person in the entire crowd. One, one person. He checked his purse. Counted the last 2 rupee coin and it summed up to 17 rupees. He looked for the uninteresting tea vendor, who was long gone. Long gone into the crowd filled with many one persons, 17 rupees and black pens.

Little did his supporters realise that 17 rupees and unquenchable dreams are an irremovable part of him and his unique, impractical race.

They tried consoling him with words when only  shoulders and lies can save him. They tried giving him luncheons when only spiral notebooks and Writing softwares can save him and Yes! By law of nature he knows he will consider it stupid in a few days. They tried making him joyous by appreciating every little step he took when only he could see his skill rotting.

He remembers lots of things, even things which he wants to forget. And that gave him Words (Fortunate or Unfortunate, his readers will decide!), and then started a War between his Heart and Mind, a WALK OF SOLITUDE to fucking Neptune.

And still he decided to walk with his 60-year old lean shoes, catching his Branded Low-hip jeans from going down, holding his shoulders high to get hit by every crafted entrances of rooms towards death and also towards his home as he finally bought a cup of coffee from another uninteresting tea vendor with his Ticket Amount. He wanted to write when he reaches home with a pen that he had to shake well in-between 27 words to be precise,,,

-just barath
“©”(This is the funny bone’s work)

the first awk-word letter

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In love with a Pen.

Yes! I’m actually writing you something. This paper would find a place somewhere in your closet or your drawing table or might be folded into two for saving the edges and kept inside your Journal. I don’t care about where this paper goes. I just am standing here, under this cloud adrift, with fear, not sure if I can send these words, and by words I mean its crux into you. For inside this ‘o’ I have hid my madness and how I exclaim for the mere sight of you, over the title of all the ‘i’ in this letter, my love is standing, surviving the cold of all lonely nights. Every single alphabet that I scribble is for you, and you alone. Just decipher it and wink _____. That is the only moment I can survive without looking at my distorted reflection in your eyes.

I feel so awk-word now. After hitting you with so much out of my confused heart, I am. For I am not the incessant muse kind or the Love-Quotes kind. I am just the Basic-Love thing, with one-off definitions of this feeling. Need I say more! Say “Yes” for I have got so much to tell to you and reimburse for the silence and seconds you have given to me, and also the seconds that I took myself. Bear with me babe, stand with me, walk with me, save me by leaning on my shoulder, feel the heat of my palm by placing yours inside it.

“Words can’t adequately describe love” they said. But words and thoughts about you are all I have.

I can’t see any Albatrosses, skylarks, daffodils, coffee mugs, mistletoes, lobsters or gods that can set my thought on sail. I can only see me! My distorted reflection in your eyes and its image.

It got me into way too many thought-cycles and art-blocks. And proceeding to the next words are getting tough now. This is something I foresaw. Stay with me, if you can. Hope this letter finds you in good health. And I don’t know when this is going to…

Happy Life, anyways…
Only Yours until Oblivion.

-just barath©

Coffee and a renewed friendship

“Hey! Hi, how are you?” She asked as she saw me sitting on the stairs of the Concert Hall.

She was Akshara. I met her last year at the same Hindu Literature Festival. We mostly attended all the events on a day together and spent the day really well. I did not get her number and Wait! She didn’t too. I forgot her face, but as the advertisements for this year’s festival popped up, she came into my mind first. I even thought of searching the Likes of the event’s Facebook Page. But from 26,000 I don’t even have the slightest chance of finding her name, even before the next event.

“Hi, Akshara Right?” I told. “Yes, Barath, without the second ‘h’ ” she remembered my name, the actual name. “So you’re a volunteer this year?” I asked. “Yes, wanted a clear picture of the event. So signed up as a volunteer. No one would see the show better than me. I am at the front, passing Time Prompts to the moderators” she told, in what seemed like a proud and happy tone. “So, you were the one, who was actually tapping on the stage when Kanhaiya was speaking” I asked. “You saw me already! Why didn’t you talk to me then” she answered with a question. “Dude I was on the Balcony and how do you expect me to get your face and I hated you a lot, How can you ask people to end such Good Shows. I hated you a lot”. “That job was for the Iron-Hearts, someone who can stand so much Hatred, but it’s not that serious. Everyone understands the situation” she told completing the sentence with a smile.

“Had your lunch?” I asked. “Yeah Man! And don’t tell me skipped your lunch again”. I nodded. “Grow leaner and leaner” she said. “I’m lean and healthy” I replied instantly. Before she could begin her sentence, I asked her, if she wants a coffee. We started walking to the Coffee Place. Being a crazy coffee aficionado I told her about that brewery’s coffee “This coffee is one of the good coffees in Madras. Its 50 years old” I completed a little louder. “Really!” she asked in a rather dragging tone. “Barath, last time I ordered a coffee, got it and in 15 minutes the coffee turned cold. 50 years doesn’t sound good” she told looking at me. I started walking back. She caught me and turned me back simultaneously laughing at me and telling, “Ok! Ok! I won’t talk”.

We got our coffees and I suggested we sit on the stairs with the View of the Entrance. She nodded and we walked slowly and carefully, fearing the coffee might dye someone else’s dress. We care for our strangers you know.
“So Akshara, What do you think about the festival?” I told and took the first sip. She completing her fist sip. She looked like she liked the taste, told “Hmmm, Cool Man. Better than last year’s show. More People, learnt a lot”. “The decor is heavenly, little things with so much beauty. You changed the place altogether, It’s going to be harder removing all this and getting this back to normal” I told. She replied “They hired a team for it. It’s going to be hard for them.”

As we were talking a woman passed by wearing a White floral Printed Frock and Neon-Orange Puma Shoes. “Oh! Look at her fashion sense Akshara!” I told her pointing the direction with my eyes. “Get used to it Barath. This might be a big fashion statement in 2 years” she told. “But would you do that?” “Definitely not” she was confident and I was happy. “So many new faces right? This year” she asked. “Not just faces, new Skin tones, dresses and way of life. I have not seen this kind of an Intellectual English crowd before. These people are the Elites of MADRAS. You get a chance to look at them only in a Few Sabhas, Secluded Cafes and temples. I have seen a few of them. But seeing all these people together puts me in a state of a Cultural Shock. But in a good Sense. I mean I just admire” I told. “How good it would be to live like them! But sometimes I think it would be boring with too many responsibilities. What do you think?” she asked and took the last sip of the coffee. “It would just be a pain in the ass, for you and me. I am very sure” I told and we both started laughing.

We turned towards the entrance still smiling and spotted Rishi Kapoor Ji, some 10 steps ahead of us walking casually amidst few organizers.

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I saw him!

-© just Barath.
Happy Life!

P.s. – Purely Fictional. I went to the festival (The best lit fest I have been to!). But met no one like Akshara. I started reading my old works and missed writing so much, getting back little by little. It’s hard to get the first word out and even harder not writing. So long!

I raised my glass

Everything was set and ready. The table was set. As it was in the past and it might be forever (Hopefully not!) I had to volunteer and start first. But on this occasion I am eternally happy on having that chance.

“Can I have Everyone’s attention Please?” I stroke the Glass with the spoon and everyone including her turned to me.

“I’d like to propose a toast to the happy couple” I started. “If the groom was actually my best friend, instead of the bride. I would have planned a perfect revenge toast for everything he did teasing me, making fun of me in the past. But fortunately for you all, the bride is my best friend. Unlike most of you, I actually wanted to see her Tears of Joy, because earlier I only had the chance to wipe her tears when she came to me and worried about failing an exam and not having the guts to tell it to her dad. Good Old Days! I still cannot understand how this woman who could not tell it to her dad that day… Tell something more serious to my Man here. You’ve grown up Jellybeans” I paused and looked at her smiling.

“Oh! Wait. Can I still call you that? Because bae you know when I prepared a better formal speech I had a line where I wanted your full name. I could not remember it! I had to look into your invitation for it.” She nodded, still smiling. “Sorry! I have the formal speech here in my pocket but later I realized my best friend definitely deserves something better than something on Google”. She laughed at me. “So, I decided to go with the flow. I will not respond to your messages on time from now, I will not give missed calls often, I will just think about you now and then, because you are now with someone who can take care of you like me! Definitely not better than me! A’int I right? It might be a lil’ awkward. And surely nothing compared to your Dad. He will surpass us all with time Jellybeans. I can see that in him”. She looked at him. I took a moment admiring them. Then they both looked at me. I cannot exactly decipher that look.

I continued, “You guys will make the best couple on earth! But on few conditions! The best couple when we don’t take cooking, keeping the room clean always into consideration. She gave a funnily, angry stare and she started to tell something, I interrupted, “Ah! Ah! Spring Cleaning alone doesn’t count, Jellybeans!”. She smirked. “Don’t worry you’ll learn and my buddy I warn you! Do not taste her noodles before her. It’s ok if you want to impress her at times. But otherwise stay away from it”. He hid his mouth with his hand from her and whispered “Thanks for the advice, buddy”. She caught him doing that and gave a light elbow blow to him. “Ouch!” I said and continued, “I got more of that and got used to it. She won’t be troubling me, Complaining about everything I do to my mom, Not letting me go around with any other guys even, whom she doesn’t like and teasing the other girls whom I was interested in. It would be a sugar-coated lie if I say I’m totally happy. Because I would miss all that I said before. I’ll always get caught when I lie to her. Buddy! This is another warning”.

She gave me THAT stare. I told her, “Wait for me to finish this. Like people pass on relics I would want to pass onto my man here, something”. I reached under the table and got a helmet and pointed it to him. “She is the worst driver. Do not let her drive. If she convinces you. Wear this without fail. I used to wear elbow pads and knee pads too. You know?” They both stood up and walked towards me. She said, “Enough! I’ll tell the rest of Your Story at your wedding” and hugged me. He removed the helmet from my hand and joined the hug. The hug lasted a while. The crowd was clapping to us. We three bowed to them and laughed at them with a slight pinch of embarrassment. She would have already got half her speech ready! I should be careful.

“And yeah! This is to the Happy Couple and my best friends!” I raised my Glass.

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A person who writes

Yes. This post is going to be about me. I don’t know why! I have been not able to get my first word out. Will try to write more often henceforth.. Barath, called just Barath here mainly because I don’t have a second name and I am always asked online to tell my second name. Is this post going to be a stupid SWOT analysis? I can’t tell if it is going to be just that. This is going to be an important post for me, because it would always show me where I started later when I re-read it for the nth time. On a first look and if I am lucky your second gaze. I might be the super-coolest, careless, laziest and nerdish guy next door to you. But you got only 4/a googol. On a quest of concealing all my other already identified, awesome superpowers from the world, I am finding something else one after another in simple conversations itself.

And That’s not it. What am I actually doing with my life on this November 15, 2016, 9:o1 P.M., Hurrah! I am wasting it in always ways ever invented. But I am consoling myself telling to my heart that “Ok! All this is happening for a reason, for a greater good. Things will change.” Oh! How really philosophical I have changed myself into and I can’t find any reason.

And also this is happening nowadays. I have started writing some fictitious incidents (Seriously Fictitious) and people end up asking me “Don’t lie. When did this Happen?” “I was with you all the time, when the hell did this Happen?”

This is my explanation.
Only for this time. She WAS real, the scars ARE real, and there IS no pain. I have got lot of others things to feel happy about and some other serious things to worry about. And I am not facing it, neither am I running away from it. I am letting it grow undisturbed. This is my BEING MYSELF theory, procrastinating it. I smile, I laugh, I try to be un-sarcastic and I try to be me at all times. But, But, But… I dwell in a dual world, THE APPARENT and THE HIDDEN. The words, fortunately are from the HIDDEN, UNPERTURBED world. So you can believe in it after you get a clear picture of what I really tried to say.

I am clearly confusing you. If you are confused only a little. WELCOME TO MY WORLD, Old Sport. If you are a lot confused, don’t worry, there is always a next time. (This is my personal favorite line, an allusion to one of GVM’s recent Facebook Post).

The reason behind me wanting to write is.. I guess I have met a fair share of diverse people these days of my life. I might have met even different people before, but I started noticing the large scale difference, only after I started to write. And it feels so good (The other way around too!). Each person I remember meeting gave me a story. These stories are only for me, friend… not for you.

If you find a Human who thinks himself as A Jack of All Trades (But isn’t so), a writer, a sloth, a dreamer, a Rebel, the final piece to a Jigsaw puzzle that gets lost always, a Sarcastic’ist, whose soul animal might be a Panda or FANG, Hagrid’s pet dog in Harry Potter … he responds to the name Just Barath. Say Hi, and he gets a different story and he will try to write to you a lot too.

P.s. – Be wise. A person who writes, can live anyway he wants. He does not wear any masks. So you can believe him. But you have to decide if you actually want to listen to your mind’s voice reading his words. Remember, He can be a PETER VAN HOUTEN (A Character from Fault in our Stars. Do care to watch the movie or read the book if you haven’t). Its not an advise.

Cheers to an Imperfectly Beautiful Life ¡

Last Wednesday…

It was last Wednesday. The day had so many things that pissed me off really bad and push me into thinking that one such day should never come again. The day I felt being good has a hefty and painful result. Being Good leaves you behind, but for another equally good thing. How good would it be if I have some powerful luck-nut every morning which warns me about the day, Like, Play it On Chap your Guardian Angels are working extra-time or Brace yourself Dumbo, your Guardian Angels are still in a hangover.

Thinking about how stupid I am and trying not to think about it I got into a bus (Not actually into the bus, just the stairs) and to get home. I live in the heart of the city and here the blood vessels, damn! I mean the roads will always be crammed and I have to walk some 15 minutes to enter into my Safe-House. I mostly won’t get down when the bus stops. I get down a little before like, when the bus goes on 2kmph and before the Bus becomes an example of Newton’s First Law, to be scientifically explained.

That’s when the thing that usually does not happen happened. Let me try to put every piece of that night together, so that you can see the Unusual.

I got down from the bus and took left. It’s a not so crowded connect road between two parallel main roads. A scooter swished past me and I can say that it did not look good. It was going from the left to the right and came back to its normal path again. I just thought Girls! And continued walking after few moments and thoughts I saw the scooter standing on the side of the road balancing on an electric pole. The girl driving it was leaning on the dial of the bike. I did not think about asking her about it. I thought it would be awkward if she does not respond well. Then after a few steps I could not walk further. I turned back to see her still. There were no women walking by the road at that time. I did not move to her. I just stood by and watched. Still no women. I just got all the good sides in me on, wore my embarrassment shield and walked towards her. I got close to her. She was breathing soundly. *relief sigh*

“Excuse me” I asked kinda really loud. A common Indian who was walking past me looked at me and walked away. She did not move. She looked up but she did not look into my face she looked to the left of my face. I got it. She was drunk. I really had no clue about what to do. I had never spoken to a drunk girl. Yeah! I spoke to her earlier but I did not know she was drunk. “Are you okay?” I asked her. I knew she wasn’t. She told “No, I’m fi.. ne” she stammered. But her voice had a strong tone. “Can I get some water?” she asked. I pretended searching my bag while she was trying to stand up. I asked her to wait and moved to a nearby store, got a water bottle.

On my way back I saw her, now I clearly saw her. She was simple and wild. She was wearing Plain white tops and jeans, a lean build and I guess she did not have makeup. She could stand back. She tried putting the center stand of her bike. But she couldn’t. A strong pull, pull and again she failed. I handed the water bottle to her and put the center stand. She used her hand as a balance against the wall and then tried to splash some water on her face. I was standing back and looking at her stumble like a kid. She dropped the bottle twice. Then picked it up and walked back to where I was standing. I really don’t wanna talk about the looks all the passerby gave us. They were just cruel and as if they saw something taboo. When will they change?. When I looked back at them they turned. They better do that! She was in a pretty bad shape. I did not know what to ask, ‘How could I ask a girl on road if she is drunk. Wouldn’t she feel embarrassed?’ As I was thinking for alternate questions words came out of my mouth “Are you drunk?” I had an innocent and doubtful stare. She looked at my face and said “Yeah! And I’m a little off-balance now”. “Little! She is totally off-balance” I thought. At least I did not tell this to her. But still her voice was strong and I had no explanation for it. “I can take care you can leave, Please, don’t waste time” she told and reached to her back-pack took out her mobile phone. And was searching for the Unlock Button. I flipped the phone the right side up for her. She quickly pressed the button, swiped the screen, the wallpaper came on. I was really moved now. She did not have a Screen Lock on her mobile. What! I generally had a picture that Girls would have the screen lock, app-lock, the vault, a grey hound and the laser alarm for their mobile. She was One Girl! I thought.

She swiped. But the touch did not respond well. I opened it. As she told the name “Shalini” I called that number and placed the phone safely on her hand. It took a few moments. I did not want to overhear the conversation but I was forced to. I was standing close to her. Right! She had called her friend who was nearby to come pick her up. She told me that Shalini would be here in 10 minutes. So I could leave. But I did not want to. What had happened to me then? I told her I did not have any Board-Meeting kinda  things that night and I would stay till her friend comes. I took the bottle and drank some water. It was a not so normal experience. I did not want to miss out on it. It was a pretty important situation. So I thought I can talk to her. I prayed that Shalini should get stuck in some traffic and come after a while. We were thinking, thinking and remained silent for some minutes. Probably the last time we both were silent.

Then we started talking out a love story, A story worth penning down, A story with so many details, a story were coincidences were better-off than a Cinematic Romance, A story purely of a passion, called Love. It was just Last Wednesday and yes the last Wednesday we both were Strangers.

Everyone want a love story with a Happily Ever-After… I don’t talk about happily Ever-Afters. It is a waste of two seconds. I could possibly kiss her in that time.

P.s. – Purely fictional. Thats all I can tell you about what happened! Oops!
See you soon.. Gotta go bye.

Its your #life !

“It’s your life. You have to take care of it. At least you have to be able to take care of yourself. If you stay like this you have to rely on someone throughout your life. How will the society see you? Will anyone give their daughter’s hand to you for marriage? If you stay this way.”

This is the stock conversation that every youth of the Indian middle-class have to hear day in and out. Why is it that every conversation end with a point about marriage? What does my grades or my loathing around got to do with marriage? It’s difficult to just suck it up and go ahead.

My dear reader with this simple expression let’s talk a very important issue. To understand what I am trying to say kindly read it fully.

We were the bright students of the class. A and B grades were never an issue. We finished our 10th Grade. Then your dad asked some of his friends and the friends suggest you take the Sciences group so you can get into some professional Engineering or Medical thing or take the Commerce stream because you were pretty good in multiplications and divisions when your aunt asked you. Then comes those words, “We can only show the way. It’s your life you have to take care of it”. Do we really have a choice here? Forget it! It is out of the question. Then you enjoy your hearts out in 11th grade and 12th is a mountain of a Speed-Bump. Subject books become your world. Your courseware will teach you so perfectly on How to live life happily as a Slave. Pretty ironic isn’t it. Oh! Any educationalists, I’m really NOT SORRY if I have offended you. Because your Courseware oppressed me for an entire year or in some cases more than that and killed the real me in the name of Quality Education. Why isn’t my psych or my wishlists a talking point in my counselling. Why is it always Numbers deciding my future in the names of marks, salary or astrology? Where am “I” in My Life? Pretending to be someone who I am really not. Pretending to be the hero of a play that bores my Inner self to death. Sorry for the meaningless expressions I use. It’s the effect of being a confused Indian.

Then comes College!
Three, Four, Five or even Seven years inside high raised walls, being those three monkeys to the cry, anguish, catastrophes of the world or even our neighborhoods. The walls so cleverly built that you don’t hear any cries outside and grow angry or any laughter and get tempted to explore the fun in it. It’s really great to get friends like us itself in such an atmosphere. He/She knows your pain because he/she is feeling it too and that one of a kind friendship is seriously everlasting. You study your syllabus and learn to be a slave to your employer from the day you step out. Don’t you try to question because you have signed some wicked applications on your admission dates. You’ll be screwed. The system is so well built that you spend so much on your college education that once you finish it you have to take up any job, no matter you’re ready for it or even you have got ideas that could change the world into  better place and all like our Super Heroes.  #Just_Indian_Middle_Class_Things

If a foreign company gives you a Good Pay Package. Don’t waste time thinking. Your family has already packed your Luggage.
Say bye to the middle class, the chai glass, the movie actor posters on the walls with ”Stick No Bills”, some holy cows, the dying farmers, the shortcuts, the Garbage in the “Keep this Place Clean Areas”, the colorful Chathurthis, the painful moharram rallies, the big fat Indian weddings, your coughing grandma, the Holy Scriptures Grand-dads, the beggars who WORK on a tender basis, the blood spilt in the name of Riots, The Logic less, stupid Soap Dramas, 50,000people chanting “INDIA, INDIA”, people with cameras roaming around slums so that they can put up exhibitions and win money, ever smiling babus who ask for votes from the foolish vote machines, the Rikibok, Poma, D.O.P.E S.W.A.G t-shirts and caps, Some small, paper with Gandhiji photos smiling(If you know what I mean) where he is not supposed to, the fights in Subsidy queues, the common bike with a deafening, ferocious silencer, the safety road lines for which people don’t give a fuck about, the street hawkers, the PaniPuri stalls, so-called schools, colleges built with cement, sand, brick and the important ingredient Black Money, Imported Dogs wearing T-shirts, tiaras and kids wearing t-shirts with big unmatching patches, the open man-holes waiting to create a News Channel Debate and a column in the 5th page, the biryani and rasgullas, the free A.C. providing malls, Auto-Rickshaws who are the King of the roads, the rhythmic horns in front of hospitals, the killing stench of shabby hospitals, the flooding sewage and dry lakes, students with suspensions for asking questions to their superiors, your future wife whom you should take back to your foreign nation, the lives lost due to religious riots, malnutrition, adulteration, abortions, tumors, drunk and drives, to all those compromises, delegations, manifestos, promises, smiles, tears, FLAMES games, your schooldays crush and to your motherland, the land that bore you, the land that needs you.

Say Bye! And never turn back just walk up ahead to your airplanes, put your newly bought mobile phones on Airplane Mode, Buckle Up, eat all the on-flight food you can, Land in your Utopia and upload a Status on Facebook “Checked in… #dreams_accomplised #time_for_New_Beginnings #miss_You_India”. Make every preconception that the world has on India totally true.

“Because IT’S YOUR LIFE AND GOTTA TAKE CARE OF IT!”

-©Just Barath #Common Man a.k.a #Confused Indian

P.s. – To my readers from other nations.. Thanks for reading this post fully. Please erase every preconception you have about my nation. Ok even if you have..In some part of India there might be someone who will show the true, light spirit of my nation. My fellow Indians, there are exceptions to all those points I have talked about. If you feel you’re an exception well Kudos! If not Please don’t leave India totally after your College, India needs you. Life may not be really comfortable here, but try to change it. Please! Wishing you a happy Life! #Thank_You

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How the Journey began..

Hi people! So long..
This letter here was written by me 2 years before. It was for the Queens Commonwealth Essay Competition(I guess!) This was like my first proper Written work. So kindly bear with me. I just wanted to tell everyone how my journey began. My first work deserves a place on this blog. Hope y’all like it! Any comment is welcome..
TITLE- In 15 years the Changes you would like to see into the world

FROM
           Every Tom, Iqbal, Michelle, Zydrunas, Chang, Chinchilla, Barath …………
           The World.

TO
          The Executive Officer,
           Human Resources and Communication Wing,
           Above the Skies,
           Address unknown.

Dear Executive,
             How’s Life up there. We Earthlings are not doing that good. I’m sending a letter so will I be branded OLD SCHOOL now? I hope that won’t be a big problem in the scenario that we would be facing in the years to come. These are the words from my heart, the words for which I’m searching solid answers. We’re in the middle of a Transform Coaster ride, riding without our safety belts. The world is actually riding faster than ever. The time gap between Terrorist Attacks and Natural Calamities is very short. What is the problem up there? Has anyone misplaced our Earth in the Bowling Alley?

            In this span of 15 years I want to see all the nations of the world different only by their names. My fellow counterparts must feel proud to call themselves the citizens of the world. I wonder if God created One World or 189, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195 or 196 nations. Many nations are still fighting to claim their freedom. We are just searching for someone to put the blame on, for this miscalculation.

A survey by the “THE CENTER FOR ARMS CONTROL AND NON-PROLIFERATION” reveals that the world is spending $1,630,000,000,000(USD) on Military Expenditure. And the wars on this planet are going on and on.

Guy de Maupassant rightly says about this in his short story TWO FRIENDS,        

Under a King we have Foreign Wars; Under a Republic we have Civil Wars”

           This was just supposed to be a part of the discussion of the friends, but this is the sad truth we earthlings are facing. We also have many lame excuses like, “It’s their fault”, “Tit for Tat” etc. These insignificant phrases are being treated important only after the War ends.

One can’t say how the terrorist organizations are started and how they are recruiting a lot of members in the name of their Great religion, which taught the Ethics of life and war to the World’s citizens. They throw bombs at people just to grab the attention of the world. Why can’t they just learn dance or music?

Mr. Executive I’m partly an agnostic but still I believe the world started with Adam and Eve, so I’ll demand justice for all the Vulnerable, Helpless, and Innocent lives my family lost. If you think this explains the worse situations the worst part is yet to come. Ever heard about people living the life of refugees in their own country, People fleeing their motherlands just to stand away from the aftermath of the fight of two big groups. It is happening in this planet; where lives struggle to exist for another day. People are being shot like clay ducks in an Amusement Park just because the shooter feels it to be amusing. I just don’t want to be a commoner asking “When will this change?” Come on and tell me, “What should I do bring about the change?” Though my life at present is not that tough, I’m just trying to understand the sufferings.

Children are very often compared to flowers; they are being abused, abducted and exposed to shocking violence. Those Children who ran off are the children who are alive. Naturally what is being fed into their minds is A for artillery and B for barrage. While the job of a departmental store worker can’t be safe on my planet who else can expect peace.

Women often attributed to the Goddesses of Beauty are abused, oppressed, harassed, denied freedom just because they are women. Men (me too!) ought to feel ashamed to be a part of this race. From birth to death one needs a woman to be a part of their life as a mother, a friend and a better half. The Earth is even addressed as ‘Mother Earth’. But we hardly treat it like it should be treated. In this fifteen years’ time, I want women to be enjoying freedom from all oppressions. I want Peace and love to be in the hearts and minds of all the World’s Citizens irrespective of their colour, caste, or Religion rather than being mere titles for books and names of Music Bands. I want life to be natural no matter what catastrophe occurs.

One more question- Will the world look the same in 15 years? I mean the seas and peaks. Mr. Executive, got any plans? Greenhouse-gas emissions have risen by nearly 50% in this century. So will we be living in the same Earth in 15 years or in The Earth were Helium-Oxygen mixtures sell for millions and we will be ‘Scuba Walkers’. In 15 years I want my friends to be well aware of the ecological issues and turn Eco-friendly. Anyone would never forget that day ‘21/12/2012’ which was called the DOOMSDAY. Of course nothing bad happened but one day or the other in the future the world will face it. All we can do is postpone it by turning into eco-warriors fighting for our motherland with our greedy selves.  Let’s RECYCLE and also start CYCLING. Of course our earth will be habitable for another 7.79 billion years. But life will get tougher.

As William Cowper, the poet who wrote about everyday life said,

“Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything. The only true Happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose”

On the contrary, our Mother Earth gives us everything and we are not returning the favor by just being gentle enough and using her resources considerably at least. Let’s talk about the economic crisis, inflation, GDP but where on Mars. A plan for settling on MARS is being discussed but it’s just HALF the size of the Earth!

   Money makes many things, but one cannot eat Dollars for breakfast, Yens for lunch and Rupees for dinner. Mr. Executive now you try to answer this “Just because the name has ‘culture’ can all the agricultural crops be cultured in laboratories”. When the farmer stops farming, we would actually stop eating can’t anyone understand this. In fifteen years’ time, I want farming to be a profession, a service anyone would be ready to carry out. In fifteen years’ time, I want my people to realize that agriculturists are the ones who are providing us our food, and therefore turn out in large numbers to support them at all circumstances.

So, Mr. Executive by questioning you I acquired some solutions. We are at a unique point in the world’s history; a point where we have to save the world from becoming just history. So ask Mr. God to postpone the mishap PERMANENTLY.

For those who say 15 years is short it is made up of approximately 400 million seconds (sounds big now!!!). Life’s to live, but living has to be in the ethical way. To see the change in fifteen years we must begin creating the change right now. And now Mr. Executive send it to everyone’s hearts and minds.

And one final word too,
“Anyone who is young by the heart and experienced by the mind is the youth I am talking about”

                                                                                         
Thanking You.

                                                                                                        Lots of Respect,
                                                               Every Tom Iqbal, Michelle, Zydrunas, Chang, Chinchilla, Barath …………