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Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

Racist are us

To the average onlooker on the Jet Airways Mumbai-Doha flight, it seemed like he was reading a novel. Only the keenest of observers could have made out that he was into his favourite travel pastime – overhearing conversations. This time it was between 2 passengers in his adjacent seats. They were apparently searching for one Mr. Krishnamohan aka Kitty.

 

Pass1: Edoi Kobi, Kitty kittiyo? (Hey Gopi, Did you manage to find Kitty)

Pass2: Enthaa athu, repetition? (Why are you repeating the same thing twice?)

Pass1: <wild laughter> Kitty name-aakkum. (The first Kitty was the name)

Pass2: Oh <high emphasis>. Yes yes. Kitty kitty. He is in my kitty.

<More thunderous laughter>

 

Chengizkhan turns a page. Now ears pinned to the front seat.

 

Pass3: Dei machi. Air hostess super illa. Tamizh madiri theriyuthu. (Dude. The air hostess seems hot. Is she Tamizh?)

Pass4: Illa machi. She is not Tamizh. She is Sneha. <Gloating laughter, enjoying his shitty joke.>

 

Time rolled on. It was time for food. The mealcart reaches Chengizkhan.

 

Sneha, the hostess: What would you like to have sir?

CK: Indian Vegetarian please.

Sneha: <Thinks this guy is a theraada case> Here you go sir. Anything to drink?

CK: Yes, anything.

Sneha: Excuse me sir, Anything to drink?

CK: I said anything will do.

Sneha: <Frowns. Notices CK’s ears pinned to the front seat> Any reason for the tilted head sir?

CK: Yes, I like to observe the gyration principles of the aircraft from various angles. Gives me a perspective of how the rudder swings based on the atmospheric conditions, especially when the pitch has moisture. I even try poking keys into the front seat.

Sneha: Thanks for the pitch report sir.

 

The cart moves to the seats in front of Chengizkhan.

 

Sneha: What would you like to have sir?

Pass3: Alcagaal (Alcohol) please.

Sneha: I will get it for you in a moment sir. Can you first tell me your meal preference please?

Pass3: <Unmindful of what she said> Yes yes, foreign brand only.

Pass4 interrupts: Machi, Englees kaaranunga ellaam saapta apparam thaan thanni adippaanunga. (Westeners drink along with or after the meal)

Pass3: Villangama irukke. Vaandi varaadu? Seri namakku enna, free thaane. (Seems weird. Wont they puke if they drink after meals? Anyways, I am not paying anything.) Non vegetarian please.

Sneha: Here you go sir.

 

Sneha comes back after a while and hands Pass3 a can of Heineken.

 

Pass3: <Chellam, I love you, I love you. Imitates Ghilli Prakashraj in his mind. But is still not satisfied. Turns to his friend> Enna machi beeeru. Hottu illiya? (Why are they giving beer. Dont they serve hot drinks?)

Pass4: Hottu-na tea coffeeya? <More shittier the joke, more resounding the laughter>

 

Chengizkhan’s neck was in a bad shape by now. He could not take it anymore. So he decides to focus his attention in a different direction.

 

Pass5: Orey Sandy, Meekku Kumaar gaaru thelusaa? (Hey Sandy, Do you know Mr.Kumar)

Pass6: Sandy-a. Nene Sandy raa. (Sandy? I am Sandy.)

Pass5: Sandy kaathu ra. Kumar-u. Last week, I read somewhere. He wanted to commit suicide, but his English was not good. So he ended by dyeing his hair.

<Needless to say, riotic laughter prevailed again>

Pass6: Oh vaada. I also read that story. That was crap raa. No truth in that. Some racist idiot has written it.

 

Chengizkhan was satisfied with the entertainment. He turned another page in his novel. He thought about Indians accusing foreigners as racist. ‘We are like that only’ he thought to himself and started to look out for fun in a different direction, and ofcourse in a different language. So racist of him, you see!

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HRJKLQX Kumar was not a happy man. The last few months have been very difficult. He has been the object of ridicule among his colleagues at office. It had reached a point where he could take no more. “Is this a disease? Is it my fault that I am subjected to this? The only solution is to die” he though to himself “but then I am only 28”. He thought about Sunanda, his wife, who was the only source of consolation during this tough period of his. He started walking towards the supermarket. His thoughts veered towards Sunanda and her reaction “She would only come to know after everything happens. She is a brave woman and would get through this. After all, nobody has a perfect life.” He picked up the bottle from the store. “Not for consumption” was written in Bold letters. “Yeah, right” he laughed cynically.

He returned home and wrote an email to Sunanda

I am not frightened of dying
Any time will do,
I dont mind. Why should I be frightened of dying?
There’s no reason for it, you’ve gotta go sometime.
I never said I was frightened of dying.
Yours
Kumar

He thanked Floyd for the literature and clicked on ‘Send’. Almost an hour passed before Sunanda could check her email at work. She was shocked, almost in a state of paralysis. Somehow, she managed to catch a taxi and reach home.

It was too late. She found Kumar lying on the couch. He was at peace. Deep sleep. His head no more had those long straight streaks of grey hair. She found a bottle of Godrej Hair Dye on the table. She checked his pulse. It was alright. He was even starting to snore now. She realised the problem was not so much about ‘dying’ as it was about ‘dyeing’ his goddamn grey hair. “How I wish what you wrote was true” she thought as she launched a vehement kick on Kumar’s backside.

He awoke with a startle. “What happened Sunanda? You seem to be in dyer straights!” he asked innocently. “Take it easy. Life is, but worth a hair” he gloated, proud at his philosophical joke.

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It was 8 pm on a Friday evening. He was standing on the edge of the open terrace of his office building. It was a thirteen floor buliding overlooking a busy street. He saw the vehicles speeding away on the road below. ‘Mean streets’! Rain was coming down in small drops. He had always loved the rain. But not today. He was planning to jump off from the altitude. He was sick of the people, the objects, the emotions associated with them and particularly, of himself. He thought about the triviality of the world around him, and the thought made him to allow himself a wry smile.

Anyone may be forgiven. But not those who lack the courage of their own greatness. Not me. I was not born to be a second-hander. What have I done to myself? I do not deserve forgiveness. And I do not believe in any person other than me forgiving myself. I love myself. I have always done and I have always lived for myself. But why is my thought process diametrically opposite to that of the world. Why does each and every route, every concept, every opinion in this damn world always lead to sacrifice and love for others. Doesn’t this give the impression of every person in the world being a bootlicking sucker.

Thoughts crowded his brain, and he was unable to take it any more. Over the last few minutes, he had developed a severe headache and the pain was excruciating. He was unable to take it anymore. he had to put a full stop to the nonsense. he had to take the next step. He moved ahead, he stumbled a little, but he was ok. It was over quickly, suddenly he felt light and feather-like. He was sinking, out of this demented world.

Ram woke up with a jerk on his bed. He had sweat beads across his forehead. He felt exhausted. He searched for his alarm clock to check the time. It was 3am in the morning. ‘What a nightmare’! He reached for a the waterjug and poured it into the glass beside it. He drifted back to sleep after sometime. He did not want to think about the dream again. ‘What if it was true….’

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The Thiru-Thani story

Thanigaachalam was standing before the mirror in the Men’s Restroom at his office. He splashed water on his face. He felt the cold drops streaming down his face. He smirked at the satire of the later half of his name sounding like jalam, which meant water in his mother tongue. The wrinkles that he had recently developed were a clear sign of the stress he had been under. He thought about everyting – the torrid time he had been having under his rude manager, Thirumoorthy. Its been 4 full years, he thought. He had worked his heart out without rewards. “Attention to details is missing” would be the standard remark from his manager. I deserved more, he thought. I always did. He instinctively wanted to break the glass in the mirror. But the thought of the last hour stopped him. He felt happy.

There was a vacancy for a position that matched his profile in a competitor’s organization. He had seen the ad in the jobs section of “The Daily Siren”, the local newspaper and had hurriedly applied for it. He made the job quite easily. The new location was closer to his home, saving him a full 4 km travel daily and the rise in salary was highly appreciable. Everything is going to end. No more invidious remarks from the manager. He took out paper napkins from the dispenser nearby to clean his face.

Thanigaachalam entered the posh building of his new organization. The relieving process in his old firm was surprisingly smooth. He was surprised when Thirumoorthy offered minimal resistance in releasing him. “The fact that he does not like me made it easier” he thought to himself. He spoke with the receptionist who guided him to the 7th floor to meet his new manager and team. He could feel the anticipation brimming inside him. He had never felt better. He took the elevator and walked up the floor briskly and asked the security “Where is the cabin of Manager, Operations”. “Fourth one on the left saar”. He located it and was surprised to see no Name plate on the cabin door. “Strange” he thought. On stepping inside, Thanigaachalam almost fainted. There he was, Thirumoorthy in all his glory.

“Welcome Thani. It is great to see you here.” Thiru smiled
“Sir, How come you are here?” Thani blurted out
“I am Manager, Operations for this company Thani. I joined yesterday. There was an ad on The Daily Siren which directed me here. I wanted to keep it a secret from you since I wanted to give you a surprise. I am very happy and consider myself fortunate to get to work with someone I know already. Isn’t it?”
“Err. Yes sir. Me too”
“You look so tired. I think you can do with some water. By the way, did you also make the job through the ad on The Daily Siren. I saw a vacancy for your position right above mine”
Thanigaachalam remembered water and jalam, but was not amused. “If only I had read the contents of the ad properly. Attention to details” he thought.

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Coffee anyone

I know you will be surprised and even scared to hear this. The coffee vending machine in the pantry is haunted. It makes strange noises when someone tries to disturb its slumber by pressing a button. The noises can vary from howling of a wolf to the whirling of a turbine. Depends on its mood, basically. It is obvious that it does not want disturbance, but no one seems to mind, except the security guard who was on duty on that fateful night when he saw the coffee machine walking down the floor at 2 am. The guard was admitted and had to be dripped half a gallon of coffee.

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An Untold Story: Part II

This is Part II of ‘The Untold Story’. Read the Preface and Part I before reading further.

Kaptaan, in the meantime, was already preparing himself for the battle ahead. He knew that this would not be easy, even for him. He called for a meeting with his loyalists and explained his plan of action. His comrades, like always, did not get a word of what he said during the meeting due to the omnipresent ear jarring music that goes on in the background whenever Kaptaan delivers an inspirational speech. They nodded indicating their approval of the plan.

Leaders world over were not convinced with Kaptaan when he refused to reveal his plans to them, at the emergency meeting at Kondichettipatty – KCP.

‘Huh.. This is absurd.’ chuckled Gargle ‘Who gave u this idea?’

‘Mr.Gargle… There is only one person in this world who gives me ideas. And that is my Sengamalam.’

‘Senga…what!!! yuck…. Whatever… Who is this? Your wife, girl friend??’

‘Nope!!! Sengamalam is my cow. I can be without anyone, but my Senga’

Sengamalam was listening to this via the Radio Frequency Decoder Headphones designed just for her. Kaptaan had gifted it to her during the previous Maattu Pongal. She was moved and her eyes filled with tears!!!!

The leaders had no other option left. Reluctantly they gave a go-ahead to Kaptaan’s mizzon. Kaptaan, as expected, completed the mizzon successfully. He not only saved the planet, but also killed all the aliens. People all over the world were relieved, and Madurai was acknowledged as a superpower. The US President, however, was curious to know how Kaptaan managed to outwit the aliens.

‘Kaptaan, Tell me something. How did u do it?’

‘Gargle, Dont u know how to do it??’

‘Ah, Kaptaan. No jokes please. They suck!!!’

‘Ok. I came to know from reliable sources, that the aliens were planning to unleash a high-intensity Laser beam that would destroy the Planet in seconds. So I kept a mirror in the path of the beam.’

‘So, u are the real Beam-boy, eh!!! But how come the aliens did not notice the glass??’

‘Huh, Gargle… It was SAINT GOBAIN’

Gargle faints.

Kaptaan says ‘When in doubt, dont shudder. Just grab the rudder and milk the udder’

Senga felt happy!!!

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An Untold Story: Part I

This is Part I of ‘An Untold Story’. The preface can be found here

Rains have been quite hard this year and the entire city has been flooded at this point of time. But the Rain Gods were in no mood to relent, with rains lashing across all parts of the state. It was 2 am on a Sunday morning. It was a time when the entire Dumeelkuppam locality was asleep, except one man. He was sitting in front of his computer, and analysing the globe’s latest developments on crime, using a Windows media player (Yes, Thats our hero). Random mouse clicks and Enter key strokes marked his acknowledgement of the impending grave danger to Planet Earth. He typed some stuff furiously on the monitor and then turned to show his face. Out of nowhere, a garland of roses came flying to grace his shoulders. He thanked the Almighty, let out a little smile and went to sleep. Deep within, Kaptaan knew that he was ‘The One’ chosen to save Mother Earth.

Tomiyaami Aguckhi saw an email with priority level set to ‘Highest’ flashing on her desktop. Aguckhi was 22 year old, a bit short, but nevertheless very good looking. She did her graduation in the Tom Yum Kum University in Japan, and she was working as the seceretary to the Japanese President. She opened the attachment in the email, and she could see, ofcourse on the Windows Media Player, Kaptaan speaking in Tamil. Aguckhi was well versed with the Tamil language, so were the thousands of Presidential seceretaries across the globe. Kaptaan had proactively arranged an intensive training camp for them in Madurai, the previous year. Kaptaan said “Aliens from planet XXX are planning to launch a massive attack on our planet. The date though not very clear is not too far. We are running out of time.”

Houston.. We have an issue here… An impending alien attack not far away… Wake up the President, the White House Resident.. Yay!! That rhymes… Over and Out…

The American President’s dreams on the German Chancellor were cut short by the SOS message. The President was understandably not pleased. He called up the British Prime Minister.

Trony. Did u hear the news?

Yes Gargle

Damn you Trony. Didn’t I tell you to call me Gorgeous?’

‘Duh, huh!! Yes yes.. Just that calling you by that name is a bit difficult to Gargle, err digest’
‘Anyways, What do you mean by aliens?? Are they Lebanese?’

‘I am not very sure. Intelligence reports say they are from some other planet. Is there a Lebanon outside Earth’

‘May be. You never know!! What do we do now??’

‘What about an emergency meeting with all the G8 members or the UN Security Council or an Al Jazeera statement?’

‘I do not think those ideas will work. The only solution lies in calling up Kaptaan’

‘Kaptaan!!! Who is this Kaptaan?’

Before he could finish the question Sin a time Sittaal, the famous footballer appears out of nowhere and drills his head right into Trony’s chest.

You deserve this for your ignorance about the world’s saviour Kaptaan

Xavier?? Is he Xavier or Kaptaan??‘ queries Gargle, apparently confused between saviour and Xavier.

…. to be continued ……

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