Karthik’s mobile beeped. It was early morning and Karthik was half asleep. He wondered who would have smsed him at time. He thought it must be some wake up / sms forward. He walked to the desk and picked his mobile and saw who had left the sms. It was Vignesh’s sms.

“I will there in 20 minutes time” – Karthik replied to his sms and started immediately.

Karthik started on his bike. It was raining but he was determined to reach there in 20 mins. It was a very well known location to everyone in the city. He went straight to fifth floor and saw Vignesh waiting in front of the ICU. There were a lot of relatives and family members of Vignesh’s friend Vijay.

“What happened?” – Karthik asked.

“He was supposed to join a new company in Bangalore on Monday. He went for shopping to buy things on the last moment and while returning home, his bike met with an accident yesterday night on Velachery highway. A good Samaritan helped him and admitted here. He has suffered multiple head injuries and is in ICU”

Vignesh’s friend was a professional acquaintance to Karthik. All studied in the same college but different branches of engineering. Vignesh and Karthik were classmates. Vijay and Vignesh were bus mates. Karthik came to know about his friend only at work. He used to work in the same office as Karthik’s. Only couple of days back he came to know about Vijay’s FAREWELL day at work and Karthik wished him good luck for a new venture.

Karthik was slightly getting dizzy seeing the people and emotional events happening around him. It was never a place to visit. Vignesh accompanied Karthik to a nearby tea stall. As they were sipping their coffee, Karthik asked Vignesh

“Where is Srinivasan? Why hasn’t he come now? Is he not in town? Is he in US by any chance now?”

“No, he is here. I called him up and he said he was not allowed to come by his parents as they have a religious family function at his home.”

Karthik didn’t want to continue talking about it further. Srinivasan was Vignesh and Vijay’s best friend. All three were very close and were best buddies since college. They can be always spotted together. Last time, Karthik saw them together in a reception, a year back. First Karthik thought there must have been some misunderstanding between the three. Being his best buddy, he thought Srinivasan would be obliged to be here at this moment ahead of him especially when his friend was in a serious condition admitted in hospital. They went back and were waiting in front of ICU to hear from doctor.

As the neatly dressed doctor came out of ICU, Karthik slowly stepped backwards as he didn’t want to hear what the doctor was about to say in fear.

Few Weeks Later,

Karthik at work met Prem, his former project colleague. Prem was a highly disciplined and  religious person. He was more into religion for his age and Karthik was always in awe at his knowledge on religion. He used have a Lord Shiva picture as a desktop picture. Karthik knew every year, Prem would go to a temple and he would give prasadam and asked him why he didn’t give prasadam this time around.

“I didn’t go to the temple this time. I had to cancel the trip at the last moment because one of my colleague’s brother passed away. I have to start again the whole fasting, so I decided to go during off season in March and that time I will give you the prasadham“

Karthik was happy to hear that Prem decided to look beyond religion. Even today many religions see death as a bad omen and Karthik hopes that some day people will use their heart and question these customs rather than blindly following them.

************************************************The End ************************************************

About the author Nirmal: Nirmal is a long standing pal of mine. He is one of the people who pestered me to start a blog. He has a blog where he talks about people he interacts in his life. His central theme has been relationships, soccer and movies. He also writes short stories. This is one of them.

Back in early 2007, there was a creative writing contest at my office. The crux of the contest is as follows. There are five articles – An old photograph, a hot mug of cocoa, three vinyl records, a basketball and a rusted swing. One has to make use of all these items to weave a story. I finished drafting a fictional story with a lousy handwriting. My final copy was 3/4th ready when the time was up. The time limit was 45 minutes – I think! I later copied it in electronic format and mailed it to my friends. Hence the title – Incomplete Story Completed. It can also be found in Nirmal’s blog too.

It was that time of the year – monsoon season. I was sitting in the veranda on a nice and comfy chair, a paper on my left hand and a hot mug of cocoa on my right hand. The view was quite pleasant. It has to be, considering the fact that I lived in a little known place in Wayanad. Anyway, as I was looking at the paper, I caught sight of a news headline “DILAPIDATED OLD SCHOOL BUILDING TO BE DEMOLISHED”. I read on further. My old school was gonna be demolished to make way for a fancy one  screen cinema theater. (This is not a city where you would find multiplexes). The paper also showed a photo of the old school – the playground covered with mossy vegetation – the rusted swing.

“Ah, The Swing!”, I exclaimed. I was getting nostalgic. Just then, lightning struck. It was getting more cinematic.

The swing happened to be very special. Thirty years ago, when I was in 3rd grade, I had a crush on a pretty class mate. Her name was Aarti. Yeah! Yeah! You folks might thing I am a weirdo to have a crush at an innocent age. Humph! It just so happens that everyone would have had that feeling. They might not talk about it to others.

Ok. Where was I? Ah, the crush. I was too shy to talk to her, let alone look at her straight at her eyes. One fine day, she was playing on the swing.

She: Rivet! Rivet! Give the swing a push.

Me: (Gulp! She spoke to me. I am on cloud nine. La la la la lal!)

She: Come on. Push it.

Me: (Bubble bursting) Hang on.

I started pushing the swing. A few moments later, she asked to push harder. Errrr, I did as she wished. But it was a bit too much. She flew out of the swing head first, like a dart gunning for the bull’s eye.

Me: (Ouch! So much for my first encounter with my crush)

She: MUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I spent the rest of the day in school avoiding her, lest she should complain to the teachers. 10 year passed in the same school. I didn’t get much personal with her owing to my past misadventure with her. I joined college. It was the first day of the first semester. I was waiting for the college bus. To my surprise, the gal-who-fell-off-the-swing was waiting for the bus too. It turned out that she was in the same class as mine. Mind you! I still had a crush on her.

One rotten day (It was a rotten day because it was examination day), I was walking towards the bus. I bumped into her.
She: Rivet! How did you write the test?

Me: Hmmm, not bad! I will pass. How about you?

She: Not bad either. Blah! Blah! Blah!

Me: Blah! Blah!……

After chatting 30 minutes, I was once again on cloud nine. It turned out to be a fine day, in the end. From that time onwards, I was plain happy when ever I talked, walked or just hung out with her.

One fine day again, I was playing basketball by myself. The gal-who-doesn’t-see-me-the-same-way-as-I-do trotted up.

She: Wanna play?

Me: Get lost! Who are you? Do you know who I am?

She: Rivet! Just for those statements, I am gonna beat you black and blue.

Me: Ok! Ok! Its game on.

After 15 minutes of grueling play, I lost terribly 0-20. It ended up as rotten day for me.

Two years flew by. I was madly in love with her. Though I didn’t tell her, she should have at least felt it based on the way I was behaving with her. I tried all sorts of things to capture her attention. I remember very well that she used to love the slow-romantic-numbers on the guitar. I gave her three classic vinyl records. There was only one song which I liked in that collection – “Unchained melody” by Righteous brothers. In order to impress her, I learned to play the guitar and crooned that song.

Me: (strumming guitar) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! MY LOOOOOOOOOVE!

She: Wow! Rivet! Awesome! Blah! Blah! Blah!

Me: (On cloud nine) Blah! Blah!

Two more years went again. It was graduation day. She still doesn’t seem to have the same feelings as I had for her. I remember finishing my piece in her autograph book, “Aarti, You are one very special person”.

Oh well! I am a fool to be thinking like that. I decided to move along. My college friends huddled together for that classic graduation day photo. “THE PHOTOGRAPH”. I crashed to the present. I ran up to the book shelf and fished out the framed graduation photo. It was an old photo. Quite faded with dog ears. All my class mates except my best bud, Mahendran was there. Why? Because he failed in ten courses. I was searching for Aarti’s face. Darn! Her face was faded. Sigh! At that moment, the phone rung. It was my wife.

Me: Hello!

Wife: Hello dear!

Me: Hey, hon. Good to hear from you. When are you gonna be back? I am missing your cooking.

Wife: Don’t worry. I will be back in a day.

Me: Ok, Aarti. Don’t forget to bring a bag of cocoa. We ran out of it. Blah! Blah!

Wife: Blah! Blah!…………………..

The End 

Note: The original had typos. I corrected it and changed some lines for more articulation.

I published this story in Shalini’s blog six months ago. This blog has been declared self-defunct, hence no links are being put. She writes well and speaks out her mind.  A good debater as well. Its difficult to beat her in debates. Now let the story begin…..

Eight year old Valli was walking with her kid brother Muthu to home. They pass a lungi-clad gentleman smoking on the side walk.

Muthu to Valli: Why don’t we try a puff? Eh!

Valli: We shouldn’t. Mother will skin us alive!!! Besides, we can’t buy them.

Muthu: Why not?

Valli: It’s illegal for Mani, the shop keeper to sell cigarettes to children.

Muthu (Sour-faced): That is not fair.

The children reach home. Muthu throws away his school bag and settles infront of the TV set.

Valli to Mother: Why is it illegal to sell cigarettes to children?

Mother looks at Valli and smiles: You and Muthu are growing. So are other children. Smoking a cigarette will impair your growth. That’s why the government has imposed a ban.

Valli: Oh!

Valli joins her brother in watching the evening cartoons. The father overheard the conversation from the front yard.

Father: Why didn’t you tell Valli that kids cannot make informed decision? That’s why its illegal to sell a cigarette to a minor. The same reasoning applies to voting. Isn’t it?

Mother (Looking at her kids): I didn’t want our children to know their father is ruining himself and others despite making an informed decision.

Hearing the retort, father coughs up in his own inhaled smoke. He flicks the ash of the cigarette.

Father: Hmmmm!

*********************************************THE END************************************************

I published this story as a guest columnist here, a few weeks ago.  The owner of that blog being a nice guy, would permit me to use his space. His blog delves on relationships and music. Now onto the story!

Déjà Vu

Ma and papa were fighting again. I was a mute spectator all the time watching them throw accusations which I never comprehended. The fight finally ended and ma leaves home in a fit of rage. Papa shows his anger by smashing the photo frame to smithereens. The photo had ma, papa and me huddled together near a cozy fireplace. Papa walks furiously back and forth for a couple of minutes. He then approaches me and holds my hands.

“Listen, Revathi. The things I am going to tell you might shock you.” said papa. “I never wanted you to know this. There is a man called Srikrishnan. He has done very bad things to us….How do I tell this?….That guy has bewitched your mother. I think he gives some kind of freak drug which makes yours mother swoon.” said papa. I was flabbergasted. Papa rants on, “He is a Biotech scientist…..cooks up drugs in the lab…his next plan is to brainwash you…”

Papa continues to tell an unbelievable story for 10 minutes and sobs. Every teeny weenie thing he talked about seemed ridiculous to me – a 10 year old kid. Despite the story appearing seemingly way out of the world, my eyes were slowly welling with tears.

Papa also leaves the house for the day. He said he has some business to take care off. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. The next day after coming from school, ma says we are going to the hospital.

Revathi: Is papa coming with us?

Ma: That is exactly why we are going. Papa is in the hospital.

Revathi: Why? What happened?

She never replied. At the hospital, I saw papa on the bed wearing a patient’s gown. His hair is disheveled. He appears very groggy due to sedation. He beckons me to approach him. Ma pushes me forward knowing that I was reluctant. But, I felt the scene was too overwhelming and I make my way out of the room. Ma follows me out.

Revathi: Ma! What happened to him?
Ma: Dear, I don’t want you to get scared. Pa will be ok. He is just unwell. The doctors will cure him

I was scared. I didn’t know who to trust after the crazy story pa narrated. Do I confront ma? Ma seemed to read my mind. She hugs me.

Ma: Pa is very very sick, sweetie. He has schizophrenia.

Revathi: Schizo….?

Ma: It’s a psychiatric disease and it makes him hallucinate. He imagines incidents that would have never happened, but he will believe that it did happen in reality.

Revathi: (Sniffing) Ma….

Ma: Papa was not his usual self during the past few weeks. I observed him doing queer things when he was alone. He used to talk alone. Sometime he just stares at the blank wall. After yesterday’s fight, I approached our family doctor……..Oh, Revathi..I know it’s hard on you.

I must say that I was badly traumatized. It had been an emotional roller coaster ride for the past few days. I visited papa a lot in the hospital. His lips were swollen. The tongue was blistered. One of the side effects of taking lot of pills, I presume. I overheard the doctors telling ma something about the shock treatment giving good response.

After 2 weeks, papa came back home. He never talked about the bio tech scientist ever again. It was difficult, but slowly our lives returned back to normal.

2 years later

Revathi: But ma, I don’t want to come.
Ma: Will you stop fussing! Mythili’s family will be hurt if you don’t come. They are all eager to see you.
Revathi: *mutter*
Ma: Let’s have a deal, shall we? If you come with me, I promise that I will buy that dress which you wanted a lot.
Revathi: Mmmmm. Ok.

So, I tag along with ma. Sigh! Life did come become back to normal after pa’s treatment. There were fights between ma and pa, but it was never like the one they had 2 years ago. These days the fights usually revolve around relatives. But, why did I have a weird feeling about this. I am pretty sure I heard the name Mythili before. When ma and I reached the house we were supposed to visit, I saw the owner’s name etched in front of the house. “G.B. Srikrishnan. B.Tech (Biotech) Illam”