2 No! We can't stand it anymore! Posted by Ami aggu. | at 9:58 PM

Cornered by the vile unkindness,
of people drowned in callous blindness,
A soul left,
this world bereft,
of love, solace and mother's kindness.

The diro appreciated the gathering,
while DD's smile was so baffling,
11:30||gtg||my wife,
Left Dosa,fled for life,
Buffoons with their porcine clowning.

These rockhearted chickenshits,
feigning all their ugly wits,
deserved the fate,
as it's too late,
to enact their goddamned skits.

We've long waited and trembled near the door,
Now!We can't stand the stench anymore,
These convulsive shocks,
will rip hills and rocks,
No!We can't stand it anymore.

May his soul rest in peace! :'(

36 Flowers of destruction Posted by Ami aggu. | at 8:53 PM

2003 Aug 22 :

Kailash picked up the gear from behind the door. His son handed him a bag containing the coiled, hard braided lines, the harpoon and the shaft. Kailash started down the lane, waving to his son at the door. Then looked up at the sky. Nothing stormy (apparently!?!).

Kishore always wondered why his father looked at the sky. Today, he could see some thing. Two clouds swam past each other to leave an agglomerate that looked like a sweet crawling baby. Kailash smiled, eyes misty. There was going to be a baby in their family.


2008 July 6:

Good news on a good day. Kailash was being released from a Pakistani Jail along with some twenty other fishermen caught fishing on restricted waters. People were breathing celebration everywhere in the village of Zazilka as soon as this news hit the media. Soni was very excited. She was going to see her father for the first time. She helped her mother clean the house and decorate their hut's foreyard. It was her birthday the next day.


2008 July 8:

7:10 PM:

Kailash waved bye to the nice chap who dropped him at the market. He went into a shop.

He came out with a parcel rolled in a plastic cover and slid it into his pocket.

He turned around the corner, walked to the fourth house and knocked. He took three paces backwards to appreciate the rangoli on his foreyard. Then looked up at the sky. No storm(!?!) threatened to ruin this intricate design of his life's colours .


9:30 PM:

Soni was running around her father, being chased by Kishore. They were laughing out aloud. Nalini was making their bed.


11:30PM:

Kailash woke up, walked to the entrance and looked up at the sky. A set of stars were brighter and formed an eagle when connected. Something was on a wait!


1:00 AM:

River beyond him…River before him…River all around flooding the village.

Water all around,covering land all over.

Wind zooming like an unaimed arrow of a skilful archer.Darkness looming all over. Desperate cries pleading for rescue being paused and played.The sound of something crashing down.Heartbroken mourning..somewhere distantly close.

Kailash was sitting,clutching his daughter tight.Pulled his son towards him by shoulder.Nalini,by his side, holding his hand close.
Five minutes of subtle silence.One more foot to the water level.The tent was tilting dangerously to it’s left.

Kaiash jumped instinctively, carrying his son and daughter with him.

“Come fast!!”.. beckoning his wife at the pitch of his voice.Voice ripped apart in the whizzing storm.The tent, tilting slowly, was being carried away with the flow, carrying lucky Nalini, who didn’t have to see the mishap to follow, with it.

Confusion….Fear…..Grief.Children gripping him even more firmly,crying. “Mummy!!!Mummy!!!”. Waistdeep water…reached his shoulders .They were three now.He wanted to cry.He didn’t have the energy.There was no one to console.

There should be land somewhere.Where!??He didn’t even know if he was treading along in the right direction.

Wave after wave.Thorns piercing into his legs,children on the shoulders.Storm from beyond.Mouthful of salt water everytime a wave threw itself over.

“Betaaaa!!”

“Haaaan!”

“Hold me tight”..voice drenched in the cacophony of the storm.

They forgot their mother. Fear. Fear all around. Each time a lighting struck, he could see corpses floating scarily all around.Corpses. Of people,of snakes,of cattle. He hated the view. But if it didn’t strike,he was not able to see one foot ahead in this pitch darkness.

His shoulders were unable to bear the pain. More so on the right side, where his son was.He treaded along.

Kailash stopped and jolted his leg. The snake that was around his leg,went with the flow. Wait!He could hear what was coming from beyond. Before he could react,it was all over him. He was suffocated. Salt Water. He held his children firm. Along with the wave,the horn of a floating dead buffalo pierced into his right shoulder. He lost control of his son.

Cruel fate hit him again with a strong wave of water and carried his son along with it.

He really wanted to cry. But, his head was reeling and his body was numb. He couldn't figure out how to cry.

His daughter didn't speak a word. Till then. Now, she looked at his father and said " Papa! I am not as heavy as Bhaiya right?."


5:00 PM:

A nurse was attending to the wounds on Kailash's body. He woke up to the pinching iodine. He looked around for minutes and then silently, tears started rolling down his cheeks.

The nurse said. " I am very sorry for your loss. God is never kind ."

Kailash muttered." It is not about fate or God. I could have saved at least my daughter. Three hours of confused wading through the river drained me of all my energy, when I unfortunately spotted rescue lights far ahead."

Mutters turning into anguished shouting, he continued with a heaving breath "While death was looming all around and laughing at me in that neck deep water, I didn't think. I ... I threw my daughter down and swam to the rescue."


Saying this, he banged his head on the wall, ran to the window at the end of the corridor and jumped out of it. He landed with a thud.

In his left hand was a parcel. A bunch of flowers with a note.

" Happy Birthday Sweetheart! With love, Daddy"

Flowers of destruction.

Flowers that witnessed the destruction.

Flowers that survived the destruction.


PS: This piece is my article for some english creative writing thing for the on-the-spot topic "Flowers of Destruction".

0 The Old Man And The Sea Posted by Ami aggu. | at 2:13 AM

This post is dedicated to ma dear Pranay...just for shaking me out of my holiday slumber...but other guyzz here...don't blame me if I sound like one bachelor of social service...the book I am talking about is a must read.The summary might be a bit overboard,but thazzz me.

The old man and the sea is a Nobel-prize winning novel written by ERNEST HEMINGWAY. It is a story of a strange old fisherman whose hard-earned fish gets ruthlessly eaten by sharks.

The storyline of the novel is so deceptively simple that an amateur reader cannot resist but doubt the wisdom behind awarding it a Nobel-prize.It is only when we deeply turn on our much needed critical faculties that we get to explore the finesse of the novel.

The author, as I opine, portrayed a very serious social holocaust in the most simplest of the styles.The responsibility of probing into the inner spheres of the immensely metaphorical novel is cleverly left to the wisdom of the reader.

My version of the summary is, that the old man actually ,represents a influentially weak but potentially able section of the society.The old man is described as strange because of the immense mental stability he displays in times which seem to be the epitomes of hard luck and hostility.This virtue unwittingly plonks itself into the armour of the aforementioned class of people during their fight for self-upheaval. The cramping of his left hand portrays the economical cramping pretty archetypal of their daily lives.

The giant fish he baits refers to the result of their hardwork, the very thing they deserve, had life been a fair dice. But just as the food in the hand of a poor guy,is often looted horridly on its way to his mouth,the fish gets eaten by the sharks.The sharks bank upon the inability of the old man to resist the attacks causal of his physical weakness,just as the blacker sections of the society bank upon the economical weakness of the other sections.The skeleton of the giant fish is the novel counterpart of the horrible truth that always stares right in the face of a poor lad.The inevitable truth that there will be nothing but the carcass of his hardwork that’ll remain till the end.

4 India...Cricket...Aggu...and Sachin Tendulkar :P Posted by Ami aggu. | at 4:17 PM

The World Cup, coming as it does every four years, offers an occasion for the full flow of adrenaline in ur bodies. I reference my life with each World Cup, reflect on how things were with me when the last one was played and reassess how they are now. Do you do that? If you are a true fan, I think you would. It’s just one of those intersections between sport and life that is so much part of being a fan.

Yeah..I do that...I have been doing that..and I will do that.I have innumerable,but crystal clear memories of India's cricketing history.Here,I will jot down the WC ones only though.It all started from a cricket loving father asking his 3 year old son to watch,a blazing...,I remember it to be one,knock by Sachin Tendulkar,bellowing with ecstasy every time the ball hits the boundary,pushing more popcorn into the overflowing mouth.I didn't know then,neither did my father,nor did Sachin Tendulkar,nor did the guy who manufactures the popcorn,that there were lot more things to follow.None knew that Sachin would turn into Sir Sachin Tendulkar, that I will turn into THE cricket buff,in an already-cricket-frenzy family living a cricket worshipping country,that the popcorn wud b replaced by chips,coke tins and all.All that I could gather then was,shout at the pitch of ur voice everytime papa shouts,raise ur hand up in the air with the fist clenched tight,and ofcourse,push more popcorn into ur mouth.

I still regret for not being able to catch even a glimpse of the 1992 world cup.I regret for not being my brother,who landed upon this world,while my mom was watching the 1987 Reliance World Cup. Never mind...I proved myself later on.

I watched the 1996 world cup,match after match,ball after ball.I understood the game completely by then.I could easily tell what wides were,what a well left shot was,and stuff.But couldn't predict a soon to follow cyclestand collapse.I was betting hard,with every1 in our family,that India wud win the semifinal.I got up and went to the toilet.My uncle was applauding for a boundary.By the time,I returned...everything was out of hand.I still remember the situation,Sachin was runout for some bullshit lack of coord.... My uncle was leaving for his home,following a batting collapse.I was sitting just there,jlt,not sure if I can cry.But,I felt an acute pain,something that did fit well into the sudden silence,our house has thrown itself into.

Then,there is this 1999 world cup.All my bets on India.Again THE SACHIN TENDULKAR PHENOMENON,the maestro had to attend his father's funeral.And,the rest is history...Never mind...It happens...I started understanding thes lines by then.India left early in the tournament,but then they could achieve one rare thing,they made ME cry.Ofcourse,only they could achieve it many times later.

Flash...flash...the 2003 world cup,by this time,my cricket knowledge was,I believed,to be greater than any of the cricketing greats :P.That was thoroughly an overstatement,but then the enthusiasm has reached its teens.The cricket fan in me was in outstanding form.He discussed abt Great Batch with his best fren Shaily.He bunked his classes,only to watch India win a test match.Sounds pretty normal heh...But then he watched the entire 5th day,standing outside a medical shop,in hot,tiring conditionsWatching ball after ball..And many more...Now...as expected,it was THE SACHIN TENDULKAR PHENOMENON again.I still remember the agony causal of every Ricky's six hurting me deep.I can recall the moments of anguish,with tears dropping from my eyes,following Sachin's dismissal.By then,I thought I was a mature cricket fan,that I would never cry after losing a match.But for these peurile emotions...I could not sleep that night...But then,it just happens,that was wat I said 2 myself.Maturity...or defence mechanism..or whatever.

Enter 2007 worldcup,I bet on India and THE SACHIN TENDULKAR PHENOMENON again.

P.S:Sorry,the post was a bit too long.But then,there are three world cups.

Current Location:Teja's room
Current Music:Chinnamma chilakamma(Meenaxi)
Current Mindstate:Excited for today's match.

7 Guys...Can der b a weirder dream?!? Posted by Anonymous | at 5:38 PM

Lads 'n' lasses;

A few days back,I had de weirdest dream in my life.U 'no I have an xeptional capability to remember my dreams wid a crystal clear sequence of da scenes and actions.Dis really makes life enjoyable yaar...Mayb I'm a little superfluous,but dat is one thingy U can always xpect frm me.

"I awake into my dream.It's nite time.I have 2 walk thru' dis part of da city dat I'm not comfortable in.I'm unwittingly walking at a strangely rapid pace,when I noticed something.Der's someone out der.Right at da other end of dis street.Just da first flash of a faint outline in dis deeply dim lit street sent an apparently stunning shock down my spine.Not dat I'm clairvoyant or something,but I knew frm da setting dat I'm in grave danger by dis guy.The very next moment,we are already involved in a sort of physical combat.My tame punches are obviously nonpareil wid de strong ruddy punches of an apparently seasoned fighter.Two strong blows,I recall both on da left part of my ribs,and I was down on da ground whirling around,whimpering in agony.I'm dying...under da clutches of da ugliest strength.Just as I was trying 2 gather all my energy 2 evade da seemingly inevitable,something even strange happened.

The entire scenario changed as if dreams transcend into newer settings quite often.

"I'm walking thru' one of my most familiar streets,enjoying da cool breeze,one late nite.I'm walking wid no real destination in my mind,as if I have no bloody responsibility in my life.Just as I was kicking past my old house,I saw someone turning around da corner and walking thru' da street,frm da opp. end.Suddenly,I felt some sort of scientific sickness comeover.Not any kind of fear,but a calculative state of mind wid da ugliest intentions.I felt as if da other guy is der just 2 b killed.I hold no bloody personal grudge over him.But God!!!Da thrill of xperiencing a cold blooded murder was certainly dominant.I started running towards him wid all da frantic hooting possible.The next moment,I'm punching him hard on his ribs.Throwing him down,and watch...
What's dis?I'm all upon him enjoying his death,with not an inch of fear for myself.I'm laughing like an insane monster,completely empty of remorse.Huh...I'm killing him.Just as I was pulling out da flickering shades of life from him,I gazed upon his face,in da dimlit surroundings,as if for da first time.Shock......Ironically,he is none else dan...MYSELF".

So...Howzzat.Forgive me if I sounded like one Enid Blyton or crap.But do post ur opinions certainly.

Ever yours,
Aghamarshan.