Sunday, February 28, 2010

A terrible injury

Last night I was watching the match between Stoke city and Arsenal. The game was been played at a good pace, and Arsenal was playing well.

Then a tragic thing happened. Aaran Ramsey, a 19 year old welsh player, got injured. The injury was terrible, his leg snapped from the knee and was taken off the field immediately. The extent of the injury can only be understood, when the broadcaster did not show replays of the tackle, Ryan Shawcross who tackled Ramsey left the field in tears after seeing the injury.

I know injuries can be part and parcel of the game, but this was crazy and very very bad. Arsene Wenger was furious, he thinks there is a conspiracy against his players. I find it difficult to believe that, and well teams are definitely playing a physical game nowadays but its happened to Arsenal players more often.

I don't want to try and find an explanation, I can't. Its just that the injury was so bad that I was shocked and upset.

I wish Ramsey a quick recovery and a great career ahead!!!

And for those few who want to see the injury ( make sure you can see it coz its bad) click here
 

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Who else but him



Hail the gr8 Sachin Tendulkar......No words are enough and apt!!!.......

Image courtesy:  www.thedailystar.net

Saturday, February 20, 2010

The Bridge

Hi, my name is Shantanu. I don't know my fathers name. If family is a word then for me family would be the owner of the grocery store I work at. The only thing this world has given me is a name, the other things I have got are things I never wanted.
The grocery store I work in is in the heart of the city. The city is a concrete jungle painted in grey. I have lived here all my life.Its scary during the nights, the grey becomes black and the shadows under the simmering road lights chase you.The thin lanes are home to everything which the human civilization has admonished.

I can see the city from window of the store. Every one here is in a rush, to reach their destination. They don't know why they have been doing this all their lives, but they don't have time to think about it. Every one is in a rush, to reach their destination.

My day starts when the dark sky turns into grey. The sun never rises. It is the sound of people rushing to their destinations that wakes me up. I dont know how they get up, maybe they hear other people, maybe they can see the sunrise somewhere...But in my world here there is no sunrise.

Talking about my work, the store I work in is not that big, but because it is in the heart of the city there is a lot of business.It is very monotonous, I remember the prices of all the things we sell, to the extent that , I can tell the cost of a chocolate biscuit in semi consciousness.

When I am not packing bags for customers or collecting money, I am dreaming. I am dreaming of walking on the bridge right across the road. People say that only losers walk on that bridge. That is why I have not told anyone about my desire of walking on this bridge. I have sat in the lane opposite the mouth of the bridge, trying to see what is at the end of it, but I couldn't. The bridge had something magnetic about it. It wasn't grey, and was surrounded by the blue of the ocean and the sky, an occasional white cloud added to the beauty of the bridge. This bridge was for losers and I was one of them, but something stopped me from going there.

There are days when the grey was grayer and the black was darker, but this day the bridge was more beautiful. The blue, white and blue was enticing but something was stopping me . I entered my grey world not knowing that today would be different.

A few men forced their way into the store. Their faces were covered with a black cloth, and they were armed. It looked like a heist. They would take away everything costly from the store, I thought. But they were looking for something else or maybe someone. Who could it be?..I asked myself hidden under the counter, trying to see through the glass below. Their footsteps rushed rapidly towards the counter. A hand went round my collar and pulled me over the counter. Their eyes rested on me for a moment, and after a quick acknowledge by one of them, I was thrown out of the store, through the glass panes.

I lay on the footpath, with blood gushing from my hand and head. My blood fell on the asphalt road and the red slowly mixed with the black. It made a path of its own on this road, the path was headed towards the bridge.
I smiled. I could see the sun rise from the other side of the bridge. I pulled myself up, the blood was gone, the wound was no longer there.I could see what was on the end of the bridge.

All my questions were answered as  I walked on the bridge

Footnotes:


Image courtesy: www.smashingapps.com


To vote for this post on Indivine click here
I have attempted to write an AllegoryAllegory is a figurative mode of representation conveying a meaning other than the literal.
I don't know how successful I have been in this attempt, so guys do let me know.  

Sunday, February 14, 2010

A valentines day I will remember

Last evening I was love struck, it was valentines day eve. I wasn't expecting anything romantic to happen but an unknown person had different plans. The beautiful city I have fallen in love with was hurt, the city where I learned to live the way I do today was burnt. 

I am not the most courageous of all people, and I will be the first to admit. I have never seen anything of this kind so close to me, I had nightmares last night, I could only dream about bomb blasts last night. I don't know who did it, I don't know why he did it, congrats man...you were successful. You just killed someones son,who was just like you are, you killed someones husband,  who was just like you, a child will never see its father again, a child who is like your own. If this was your motto congrats man...you were successful.

I don't know why I am writing this, I don't know if this is making sense, but to be honest I am tired of this. Like me there are so many others who are tired of this.

                                 I only wish there was a way to stop this.

And thank you Bala saheb and SRK, you did a brilliant job at distracting our already depleted police force for your own personal issues. I wish Bala saheb and Raj would have done as much work as they talk, this place would have been a better place, as for now leave us marathis alone, we would prefer dying of hunger rather than dying for your personal and political ambitions.

Friday, February 5, 2010

What If Blog-a-Ton 7

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 7; the seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Good bye , have a good time!” 
Sameera’s husband bade goodbye before leaving for an official trip. Sameera stood at the door gazing at his car till it disappeared into the heavy traffic. It would be one of those long trips where all Sameera would have to do is to make food for herself, write her blog, and walk her dog in the evening.  
Sameera’s blog has been her latest passion, it was a good way to keep her busy and interact with people from all around the world . She booted her Sony Vaio and logged on to her blog. Her latest posts had a good number of comments and she spends some time replying to each and every one of them. After she was done, she was going through the updates of the blogs she followed. The Blog-a-ton blog had an update, the new topic had been selected and it was "What if". No two words would have had the same effect on her as these words. The two words asked her a question for which she would never ever have an answer; she decided to write about just that
                                                            *************************

It was more than 20 years ago, when I was a young girl just out of college. I was born in a conservative family, where after education the only thing a girl can do is get married. I tried to break free from some of those customs and started working, but that did not last long and soon I was too be tied in to the wedlock with a boy selected for me by my parents, but this isn’t about the story about how I got married but about that one question which always leads to so many questions which I never have an answer for.

It was a few weeks just before my wedding; I carried the invitation cards to the office. I had decided that I would drop the cards at the desks of my colleagues so that I would have to avoid those repetitive and expected questions about the groom and many more. I was doing just that, dropping a card at the desk of my team members when I reached one special desk. It wasn’t just any desk, it took me a moment of conflict , but then I decided to leave the card at Karan’s table too
“Are you sure you are going to invite me for your wedding?” he asked
It came to me as a surprise because I didn’t realize he was standing behind me while I was resolving my conflicts. I couldn’t say a word and all I could do was give him a shy nod of the head.
“ So finally getting married huh!”

I nodded my head again and went ahead with the task of distributing the cards. When I returned to my desk having completed my ordeal, I found a mail waiting in my inbox. It was Karan


More than 60% of brides have second thoughts and around 10% of them end up calling off the wedding.Which category are you in?...are you really ready?
Karan 


And before I could gather my thoughts, I received another mail from him

BTW, I saw Runaway Bride last night. So if you think you are going to deny the fact that you are not nervous then you actually are nervous
Karan

His mail brought a smile on my face, but also made me realize, that  I was hurting him. He was in love with me for three years now, yes we knew each other during our college days too and today we worked together. His love had been unwavering and unconditional.  He was one of my better friends, no doubt about that, but I could never feel the way he felt for me.  At one point of time I felt guilty, guilty of being this block in his life. Had I not been his friend he would have moved on, but today he lives in hope. He hopes that one day I will fall in love with him, and I am guilty of keeping this hope alive.
He tapped his knuckles on my desk, I turned towards him.
“So, you will be attending the process party tomorrow? ”
“I don’t know Karan, today is the last day before I go on leave, I really want to come but there is something which is bothering me”
I stood silent, it takes a lot of courage to tell a person on his face that he is the cause of concern and I did not have that
“I hope it is not me you are worried about?” he asked
I froze for a moment; words seemed to escape me all this while
“I think I will take your silence as yes. And I know what you are worried about, don’t worry about, I will not ask you out in front of all those people or do anything stupid. In fact I never have”
“But on one condition”
“What?”
“I want you to wear the red dress I had gifted you”
“But why?”
“Please do that for me, I will not be able to explain it to you, please” he pleaded
I agreed to wear the dress. The dress was a red color satin with a black ribbon near the waist. It was elegant. I had seen something similar once when I had gone for shopping with Karan, so he took a cue and bought it for me. I never wore it, because Karan had that look in his eyes when he gifted the dress. The look of unwavering love, and I was scared.  I always asked myself why I never fell in love with Karan. He was someone I was very compatible with, he was someone who understood me very well, someone who always kept me happy. Maybe he loved me much more than I could handle.

I took a rickshaw to the hotel, and as expected Karan was already there waiting for me. He held my hand and escorted me in. He had made sure that he had a separate table reserved for the two of us.
“You are looking beautiful today. I knew you would look beautiful in this dress but I did not know you would look this beautiful”
I blushed.
“So how are you planning to run away from your wedding?” he asked
“Karan listen, I am not going to run away from my wedding. Why do you still hope for anything now? It will only hurt you!”
“You know I read somewhere that Hope is the only thing which gives and doesn’t take. Hope is the most beautiful thing in this world”
Just then my eyes met his, he was in a different world altogether and they pulled me in to his world. He slowly held my hand rose up; we walked towards the dance floor. For a few seconds our eyes parted, they met again at the dance floor. He held my palm with his hand .He slid his other hand on my back and pulled me towards him. I could feel his breath very close to mine. Our feet moved to the slow music in the background, but the music gradually faded away and all I knew was I was with Karan, the guy who loved me a lot and for the first time I felt something for him right when I was about to get married to someone. Suddenly Karan moved his hands away from my back and held my other hand. His eyes caught my attention, not for the first time this evening; there was madness in them. He kissed the top of my palm and took a deep breath in, absorbing each and everything this moment life had given him. He let my hand go, he wanted to say something and bend towards me. He gathered courage but only two words escaped his mouth
“What if….” He nodded his head wildly and left. 


Footnotes:

Image Courtesy: www.iwalkalone.org


The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The hand that rocks the cradle

There are a few things which are inevitable, how much ever we pray that it doesn't happen, its inevitable. My life is approaching one such stage. My mom is going to leave India and go back to UAE, to stay with dad. I know at this point of time Dad needs mom much more than I do, they have lived separately for three years now. I feel guilty for the fact that mom and dad lived separately for these three years. They still talk to each other every night  just like any new college couple or a newly wed ( don't even ask about the phone bill), they are the best example of love I have ever seen, may god keep them together like this forever.

The thing is that, my mom is leaving and that time will come soon when she will be in the UAE. Yes, I have always been a momma's boy and to be honest I don't find anything wrong in that, but I can't imagine my life without her. I did live for a couple of years without her and I missed her quite a lot, but now that I know what the difference is when she is there and when she isn't I am going to miss her all the more.

Like I said some things are inevitable and this is one of them, all I can wish is that whatever happens, let it be for good. I am sure a few of you would be wondering why am I writing this on my blog, well the reason is that I am never able to say this to mom. She has always been there for me, and like always I just cant say it to her. She is like that lotus flower which might float  in a marsh itself but preserves the dew drop on it, I feel like I have been the dew drop all my life and I only wish I have her along all the time.....


Footnotes:

Thanks a lot guys for all your lovely comments for my previous post. I am so sorry for replying late to your comments but I have finally done replied. Do drop in a peak ( click here to read my replies)