Copyright2010@Anurakt Srivastava

Copyright2010@Anurakt Srivastava

Batch of 1999
Anurakt Srivastava Smashword edition 2010 Copyright2010@Anurakt Srivastava

Copyright2010@Anurakt Srivastava

Index 1. Player 2. Some days are special 3. The introvert 4. introvert’s diary 5. The callgirl 6. Restaurant meeting 7. Risky business 8. Wall of fortune 9. Game continued 10.Another page of the diary 11.Lover 12.Impulsive 13.Poster-girl 14.Spoiled child 15.homosexual 16.Another page from the diary

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17.Posters 18.A girl who couldn’t move 19. Piano player 20.A little reunion 21.Wall of fortune 2 22.Final page of the diary 23.Revenge 24.Reunion 2 25.Reunion 3 26.Memories 27.After one year 28.The comic book

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Tanak Name – Tanak Saxena Age – 23 Education – schooling Marital status – complicated Occupation – unemployed Hobbies - walking 2005 Something was unusual about him. No one knew what. Everyone was jealous of him only. Jealous and idolizing him for his art. They weren’t sure if it was an art or pure-sure luck. People of his locality were half amazed half scared of him. He just needed five minutes to charm anyone to perform his magic and then no one could resist. Even right now, one girl was standing on Tanak’s door to catch him when he would come out and another one was sitting on her knees below the electric pole on the corner of the streets. Her parents were there too and requesting her to get home with them. But she was only a thing with no capacity to respond. Mighty love had vanished all her shame and self-respect. Her ears only wanted to hear his voice and her eyes only wanted to see him again when he would come out to buy eggs for evening breakfast. Yes, that was his habit. She was praying that he would felt hunger soon and came out faster. Tanak looked from inside the window and told the girl’s parents to take her home and the girl started crying hoarsely. It wasn’t the thing she wanted to listen. He was so nice and so cute, how could he talk so roughly? He gave her dreams and now he was breaking those. Tanak was inside his room with two girls. One was from the nearby PCO and another was a primary teacher. They were inside because they were new and ready to adjust and change for him, according to his habits and comforts. Because they were ready to do anything and

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considering themselves lucky for being inside right now and they knew that many of the local girls were jealous of them right now. Tara was a PCO reseptionist and Tanak was the only color of her mechanical life. She was his girlfriend from two weeks now and they were doing well. He might marry her someday. How nice it would be? Aah. She still remembered how Tanak came to her two weeks ago and held her hand. She became speechless right there. Tanak didn’t’ say anything and took her with hand outside the institute. She couldn’t understand why she was so unable to resist. He wasn’t saying anything and she wasn’t asking. There was no need of words, when actions and gestures were enough. He didn’t give her any chance to think. She had never seen him before. And she knew that at this very second her life was transforming and she couldn’t do anything except being a spectator. And it was feeling great. She wished that the destination would never come and he would never left her hand. His hand was warm and rough. Perfect. Like it should have been. He was a real man. He knew how to behave. She was walking on the cloud 9. He took her to a restaurant because he wanted to eat something and he didn’t want to eat alone. Sure, why not? He told her that her nose was too long. Now that was too much and she should have left this man right there. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ask any questions. He didn’t give her any chance. What else? She was paying for the food and coffee they had at the restaurant. Next day, He screwed her in the abandoned area behind her house at eight o clock evening. Her life was in his hands completely and she was behaving like a slave. She asked him when he would do this again. He smiled. Tanak told her that he got a girlfriend. She dismissed this fact like a bubble. Something was appealing in him. But she couldn’t figure it out. It wasn’t his face. Tanak's face and built was average. He wasn’t romantic. He was too straight forward. Whenever Tanak entered any house, he entered with the confidence of owner of the house. He got four sexual partners around the locality alone. Two of those were pregnant and Tanak was changing girlfriends with staggering speed. His first one was his own history teacher in school. She was the hottest woman of the school and many teachers were after her. She was married though. But it wasn’t going to bother anyone. Samar didn’t take more than 5 minutes. He told her that he got a query in her subject and wanted to spend some quality time to solve it. He told this thing in such a way as if someone was talking to his wife on first night. He went with her in an empty room of the school which was meant for all the fun purposes of students and teachers. They came out exhausted after 17 minutes. He was scoring well in history for the rest of the months in school. Tanak left the school after passing with good marks and taking virginity of three girls of school. Two months later History teacher died due to the complications of low blood pressure. It was just the start. He got the effect of movie star on all the people. They wondered how he managed to do that with simple looks and body. It was when he started talking. It was something to do with that only. Nobody was sure though. But they could feel something in the voice and touch.

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It wasn’t usual. Tanak's tone was so heavy and vibrating like voice over artists. And his touch was like snake. Oily. It could have covered you up with feelings unknown. Perhaps he was gifted or whatever. But it was the fact that he knew how to play his game. There were complaints about him in the police station too. Complaints filed by the parents of pregnant girls and fooled girls themselves. As if it mattered. Police got more important things to do rather than being involved in personal love-life of a playboy. There were many other issues of importance anyway which deserved more attention. And there weren’t the marriage involved. Affairs and break-ups were as common as mobile phones and cars. Once a policeman dropped by Tanak's house when he got a lot of free time to talk to a horny kid. Tanak talked to him for 2 minutes and police-man went home with the few phone numbers on nude photographs. These girls, as Tanak told him, would do anything if policeman called them with Tanak 's reference. He closed all the peanut cases that had been filed against Tanak next morning. Right now, Tanak was fingering a dark skinned girl and thinking about past. Girl was sad because of this and she asked him to concentrate. Tanak called her with someone else name and a tear fell from one of her eyes. He ordered her to bring tea with one and half spoon sugar and along with a stirrer. So That’s why people say not to fall in love, she was thinking. She knew that she got no future now. She knew she would never be happy again with anyone else. And it was horrible thought. The cup fell from her hands. He didn’t mind as there were many cups like many girls. It made her angrier. He should have responded to her in some other way. He should have been talking or touching. He should have been angry or nice to her according to her behavior. He should have been punishing her sometimes or atleast look at her with affection. She didn’t exist for him anymore. It was the worst thing in the whole universe. Nothing could be this bad. She was the whole world for Tanak a week ago and like he had sucked all the feelings and freshness from her so she was only a nobody and stranger for him now. She believed that she had an understanding of all these heart matters and relationships. Then why it was hurting her so much? Like something had remained inside her and it was crushing and biting her. It was making her cry, breaking her heart. There was no door outside and she was in. she needed a lots of alcohol with ice. Who was he? She wondered if she knew his name. Tanak or whatever. The only reality was that they were made for each other and she wanted him so bad. She couldn’t remember when he had become so special. She was wishing that he would touch her once again like a week ago. He sipped the tea with the gesture of a husband. Why he was doing what he was doing? It was just what she wanted him to do. He shouldn’t have been leaving her. He should have killed her instead. He should have been pitying her pain and mercy-kill her. She didn’t deserve to live and she didn’t want to live. Her soul would go with him and her body was too heavy to lift without a soul. But the tea was

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tasty. His face was smiling and she wiped tea drops from his lower lips. It was so nice, she thought. Tanak went to a computer institute in the evening. Today was a great day because he wanted to take admission in this school. He submitted the fee and signed few important papers. Then he went inside with a teacher. And there were classes going on. For students there, a new-comer was not a new thing but for girls it was. All the feminine faces moved with him, many hearts skipped beats without any particular reason. It was a matter of feelings now. No one wanted to study among them now. They had seen something which was special in someway (like the hell it was). He moved faster because it was even beyond his control. Even he had no idea about why and how it was happening. But he had seen its effect and it was growing day by day. All the females of the class were behaving anxiously and ecstatic. They were moving rapidly on seats and closing their books. Some were biting nails and fingers. Some hitting the table with the pen. Some wanted to close their eyes to absorb the atmosphere from feel buds so they laid with heads down over the benches. There was his smell in the whole room. Like sweet tobacco with lemon. Like milk and moon. Like water and honey. Room was smelling like a chemistry lab right then. Nostalgic intoxicating aroma coming from back seat was making everyone drowsy. Tanak was becoming angry with all this. It was him who was causing this mess and he hated every second of it. He had to get out of there right now. They all just looked hypnotized or something. Before they would cross any limits, he had to move out of here. It was getting out of control. He stood up from his seat and told the teacher that he wanted to go out for sometime to drink water. ‘Please, don’t go. A girl in the front row requested.’ ‘Yes, don’t please, it is an important class and we are learning about the usage of Microsoft office. You will miss it if you leave,’ Another girl told him. She is good-looking, he looked in her eyes, poor rabbit. ‘I am only going to drink water,’ He told her and thanked her for caring about him. She wanted to talk more but he left. He really did drink the water from the water tank outside. And threw a glance inside the room again through the transparent walls of Italian glass. More than 15 eyes were looking toward him. Few of those had all the promises of love and faithfulness and few had the expressions of surrender. He smiled at everyone and many jaws dropped. Tanak threw the disposable glass in the waste basket and ran out of there.

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How it started 1999 It was a normal day of the school and everyone was supposed to do normal things in a normal environment. That is how things are expected to run around. That is how it starts. Things went from ascending to descending order. It is the rule of the universe. Nothing stays as it is. People think that circumstances can be controlled. Well, no one knows the actual truth. Class of 30 students of arts section was ideal in behavior. They were all between 16 to 17 years of age and happy to study here (because they got no other choice). White convent was a school of good reputation and scorers. This was going to be easy. Parents were happy and kids were happy. Everything was according to the structure and following the path of definite. Today, there was going to be a tour of chemistry lab as an introduction to the science. Though, all of them knew that it would be of no use in the future or career so everyone was in a playful and boring mood. Boys were hitting on girls and back benchers were playing with the colorful things of the lab, which got the looks of showpieces. Few were saying funny things about the cricket match that happened yesterday (India lost). Teachers were talking to each other and complaining about management. It was a scene of a party or something. Students were joking about the chemicals inside the test-tubes and the burner. They set burner on fire and started scaring each other with that. Everything was a game for them. They discovered lenses. They brought a mouse from the biology lab and threw chemicals on it to see the effect then burned it with lenses and sunlight to see the dance of life. Teacher told them not to do this and it acted as a booster for them instead of lowering their spirits. They killed the mouse finally by hitting it on the wall so hard. And then they were disgusted on the mess from the rat’s stomach. It was just the start. Arts section was famous for its hustle and chaos. No student could come out of the art section without getting ragged in some humiliating way. You wouldn't want to go inside their room. They got the reputation as agents from hell. Every other kid was scared of final year arts class. But that was not the end of it. Art section brought most of the trophies and most of the complaints from the parents of other students and nearby areas. You could find every category of student there. Rich, poor, studious, dull, lazy, sportsman, genius, blacklisted and painters. Class was situated on the top floor of the school in room no. 59. Right after the sports-room. Room was painted in white and was decorated with charts and graffiti. There were 26 benches taking in mind one bench for two students. Its windows were giving a nice view of the backyard of the school and buildings that were situated in the east of the city. Somehow, it was distinct from the rest of the school. No one knows how and why? It could be an architecture fault or symmetrical, but there was something eye pinching and irregular. For the kids studying there, it was the best place to rule the school. They were reputed for colors they conspire. Students, who took arts as freshers were bound to give attendance to the senior year. It could be in the form of item numbers and pranks with occasional pole-dance

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if a senior was in royal mood. Final year used to stand talk and smoke outside the school after and during the classes. They used to do many things that were normally forbidden for students. And today, they were in the lab just for fun again. Principal gave the permission for the labs only because it was a kind of old tradition. Like a tour or picnic after the terms or like an occasional function, because it was mentioned in the school prospectus. No one would ever know what actually happened that day but legends have it that one of the art student came running faster than the congested place could allow. And struck the glass cabinet so it fell down over a gas cylinder. For a few seconds, the student kept looking there with guilt of damaging the property of the school for which he might be punished. But it turned out to be worse than that when the cylinder burst open. No one remembered a thing after that but rest was going to be the history. All the 25 students present in the lab woke up at the hospital after unconscious stage. Doctors told Dheeraj Muneem (the principal of the school) and parents that it was nothing serious as the students were all right without a scratch and it was proved, when one by one, they started waking up and started recognizing their guardians. Parents were happy, doctors were praising themselves and teachers were taking deep breath of relaxation. Everyone was happy except the principal. He went through the corridor to the reception. It was busy so he had to wait before his turn. He wanted to make a call. He wished that telephone would disappear as he was waiting. Telephone and kids and his whole school would disappear. Wishes don’t come true. “Hello, Jagat. I have to meet you……………….. Yes, you are right………… All the arts section was in chem. Room and went down faded……… That thing you gave me for protection has vanished in gas because I couldn’t find it and I think that all the kids intake it through breathing……………….. Listen, I know it would be something important if you had given it to me and I kept it where no one could reach possibly but the whole stupid glass cabinet fell down……………..if it is about money we can see to it. Just tell me how much I owe you…………….. What?..... Okay……. I should look inside the lab again……………… Students? What about them?................... Ow! my gawd…. Could anybody ever figure out……….. Then we should keep quite about this. Because now there isn't much to do anyway. I don't want press to arrive at my school and convert it in a circus…………… No, government would seal my property and everything if the news would come out. For the old days sake keep your mouth shut…………. I didn't know that I was allowing you radiated neuro-toxins in my lab. You told me that it was some rare oil or something which you had to put in a controlled environment…………. God, you have any idea what happens here. A whole section is laying there in the emergency ward with their guardians and relatives ready to grab my collar on any hitch or sneeze from a single kid. What have you put me into?............. Yes, that would be good for you and me…… now I am hanging up the phone. God help us.” Dheeraj walked towards the ICU again. Radiated neuro-toxins his thoughts repeated. Name had it. Now he could figure out what had actually happened in the lab. His friend’s words were playing again and again in his mind, dissolve the arts section and send everyone home. Or what close the school and

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start a hotel in that place (his friend didn't laugh at this while saying it and it was making principal angry. Very angry. Jagdeesh told him that it would affect the whole life of every student present in the lab at that time. It hits the mind his friend's words. He went inside the unit and saw that almost every student was conscious now and it amazed him that they were looking fresher than the morning. Perhaps it was all just a thought of his friend. But Jagdeesh wasn’t a person of airtalking. He had known Jagdeesh all his life. Even Jagdeesh was the person who advised him once to open a school. Now he was advising to close it down. What rubbish!! Everyone was looking fine here. Even better than before, why the hell? Everyone was talking and some were even cracking jokes. These arts students. Nothing had happened to them. They were great. Perfect! Even if Jagdeesh was right, there was nothing much to do but to wait and watch for the bad-luck to come. Because in front of destiny everyone is just a puppet. So, if nothing could be done then it was an ideal situation. This time he didn't know and didn’t even want to know what the words “it hits the mind” meant exactly. He went to a bed on the corner and there was laying the topper of arts section. Aniket smiled at principal with respect. Principal rubbed his hairs and said a silent prayer for him. Not because he was a topper but because he was looking at him unquestioningly with all the trust a student can have for his teachers. Principal wanted to forget the words of his friend. He knew that he could. Nothing was going to be the same from now on. Nothing was normal in that room. Everyone was happy and everyone knew that something was just not right. But they couldn't figure it out. Soon, they all got discharged. They went home with courtesy of principal through school buses and his personal cars. They were playing and singing again in the buses and few were looking out of the window as if nothing had happened in order to make the atmosphere alive again and to show the spirit of moving on. Few were so quite and they were sitting separately from their parents. They were feeling a kind of cold in the back…… a kind of chill that was soothing when it reached to the head.

Aniket

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Name: Aniket Thakur Age : 23 Sex : male Status : unemployed, unmarried School : White Convent Cause of death : suicide Description He was the topper of white convent and second topper of the city. A whole-sole winner of the Olympiad, which was a reputed competition among students. He won the scholarship for the best colleges after the school. Declined each!! Aniket was like this since he was a child. Once a topper is always a topper. Then he discovered books and kept sitting in school library bunking classes and reading all the classics and poets from all the ages. After the entertainment, he went on to philosophy, psychology and probability to know more about the reason behind actions and behavior. Librarian warned him that it could be bad for his scores and brain but he got highest marks again that year. His father was a doctor. He wanted his son to imitate him like a mirror and handle his clinic after completing studies. But Aniket broke all his father’s dreams by taking arts in the final years and that was a big disappointment. At that time he just liked history and wanted to pursue it further, irrespective of his marks and all the other dummy subjects that he had to prepare along with it. His father cut down his pocket money and other wages. Nothing bothered him. He didn’t need much money. He went on to get good marks and making it to the gold positions. Class wasn’t proud of him. He was a nerd and he wasn’t welcomed in the arts section or anywhere else. That class was all about having fun and they used to hate good students. They despised such old fashioned characters. Every other bad scorer was lower somehow because of the students who got good grades. But Aniket was a good friend and person who mind his own work, so it didn’t stress him too much (so to say). It wasn’t in his plans to become a civil servant or something like that. He liked to study and that he was doing. Marks were just the by-products not the motive. He used to show his copy to other students during exam to prove his friendship. Every student of the bully class was his defender on getting caught while this social-work. So he was the king during terms but they would rather neglect him anyway. He used to help them in all the ways to keep friends and to mix up but he couldn’t. This social system couldn’t get inside his brain. Not that it was very important but he didn’t have any friend except classmates. Not siblings at home. Not even a mother. His father lost wife in a train accident when Aniket was 5. Remarriage never happened because father was convenient with his loneliness. It could have gone like this forever. Aniket was showing good signs even in arts. Then came a day when everything changed. Aniket wasn’t a bit excited about the chemistry lab because there was nothing to learn for him. chemicals, rats, octopus in a jar, weird scales and boring instruments which were for bookish freaks who prided themselves by the weight of notes. He was not a freak. He

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was a nerd. But Aniket went there anyway just to remain with his class fellows because he was a part of a group. A group which treated him like an outsider. He was talking to Sonia about the history notes. That he would give it to her in few days. And he told her that these notes were very good and advised her to keep them secretive (to prove his importance that the girl was going to get the notes of topper of the state). Sonia didn’t like him but she managed to show that she admired Aniket. Aniket knew that she didn’t like him but life means trying. Life meant trying for him until that second. Everything was normal and usual until Aniket saw Vijay running after another student of low height and low profile. Few were shouting and encouraging him and then running student tangled with something and fell over the glass cabinet at the end of the lab and it fell on the floor. And the world changed for Aniket that day. He left the books and left his countable friends few days after that accident. He dropped his dreams and plans to get knowledge and gain something really worthwhile. He stopped meeting and respecting others. He stopped caring for anyone at the school and house, everywhere. A little more time and Aniket stopped talking to anyone. Not that he had become shy or something like that. It was only a detachment from everything and anyone else around him that represented society. His father thought that it was just his age and something related but it was more serious than that. He tried to develop an understanding with his son and called up his many psychiatrist friends. But Aniket failed all of them by not meeting few of them and insulting the rest. Father tried some of his own wonder medicines too. It just worsened the matter further. Now Aniket could sleep no more at nights and was unable to pursue a definite schedule. Now, the nights were much freezer and compatible than before so there was no need to wake up at day. Not that it was any problem for his father as long as good marks kept coming. Situation got weirder as the days went by. Exams came and went like always. Arts students were not waiting as bad as commerce and science. They weren’t depending on marks. What about Aniket? Same old story. All the universities accepted him including the ones where he didn’t even apply. He should have been glad. He should have celebrated. Instead of that, he spent all the time in cutting up all the threads of communication he had with the outer world. He had become an absolute introvert in those days and felt comfortable with all that lacked all his life. He started hating the things that he missed once. Aniket took admission in a local college and then stopped going there. They didn’t mind at all because he was going to score anyway which was important for college reputation. He refused to change his way of living and then he let down a girl who had a taste for toppers. Anyone tried to talk to him felt like talking to a stone. Ask him for anything and you would get it but that wasn’t going to include any emotion, mood or selfishness. He remained at home all day doing nothing but smoking reading and thinking. Once a relative asked him why is he like this, “why are you like this?” Aniket looked at him like relative was a statue of ice and nothing more than that. Everything was same for him.

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Once a boy of the college saw him trying to write with a spoon. He had been asked many times for study tips and problems by others. Askers got the answers only. Everything stopped interesting him now. At nightfall, he looked at the wet spot on his underwear with wonder and then kept laying there thinking about the eternity. He wrote ‘23’ on the wall of his room one day and then kept looking at it. Then he went to the refrigerator, took out a pastry and ate it. He switched off the lights and fans after coming back to his room on one summer day and remained like this till the day he lived. He was on his bed, bathed in sweat and with a blanket around him at 45 degree Celsius temperature of Delhi June. Father asked him for food. A gargling voice came from inside which meant a blur no. his father didn’t ask again. There was a red light which brightened suddenly and faded after that. A cigarette most certainly. A grass cigarette less certainly but it could be one possibly. Then there was a movement and a voice like screeching on plywood. Father left the floor because he thought that Aniket was coming out and he was so scared to see what might come out of that room. It was someone else inside. Inside Aniket. It was something absolute. Nothing should be absolute and out of reach. He was unable even to look at Aniket. It was easier to let him do anything he wanted and to pay for his expenses until he would be somebody. But that was not what the destiny had decided for Aniket. The compass entered his skin once while he was trying to make hole in a cardboard to make a book-cover. He didn’t take it out for long and kept looking at his blood while completing the book cover. There was a very dim light coming from the window at that time. Lots of cloths were scattered on the floor and the boy was naked. He grabbed a pant with blood stained hands and looked at the flower on the pant with watery eyes. He wasn’t thinking about cover or blood at that time. Neither was it about himself or anything surrounding him. The failure overtook and he surrendered. He didn’t give the second and third year exams. People forget who was Aniket. He tried a BPO, but was unable to concentrate on the digits written on the dial pad of the telephone. And he had to make 300 calls per day which was an impossible task for him in this life. Though, he did sell some products but left without taking any salary. Home sweet home. College was a long forgotten place and going there was out of questions as daylight had become unbearable for him. He always came out at night with a hanky on his face. Then he bought cigarettes and other things before running towards home again. He always tried not to look at people while going back. In this way, Aniket increased the curiosity of the people because a man with a handkerchief of checks, who was walking fast, couldn’t be missed. He didn’t even shave for three months. And hairs were undone also. He brushed his teeth though. No bathing. No cleaning of room.

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His father totally ignored his presence in the house. he was avoided and then forgotten by locals. Nothing but A thought that came and faded occasionally when the talks about politics and films ended. Rest of him finished when he hanged himself from the ceiling-fan which was a popular way of suicide in India. Police came and declared the death a suicide after taking him off the hook. His place was a complete mess and there was no bulb and no electricity (Aniket had disconnected all the connections of electricity a year ago). People didn’t believe that Aniket was living there. Let alone the fact that he was no more. His father looked in sorrow and relief. Though he wanted to cry but he couldn’t. There was a diary in Aniket’s room which police found. It was not a daily-diary. Aniket wrote it whenever he felt like. There were important questions of history on page one and two. Some notes on third and fourth. And from the fourth page, there was his life. He started writing on the day when a student fell over the glass cabinet in chemistry lab.

Aniket’s diary

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Today something strange happen. I was in the lab and something changed inside me after few hours when I wake up in the hospital. He shouldn't have. No way. After I woke up it seemed like everything was so light around me. Everything had converted into something else which was like colors and then suddenly it changed into real things but the feeling remained. Everything was so light that I thought I could fly on slight movement. So I didn’t move and held the rod on the side of that dirty hospital bed. Was that good? I don't know. Things moving here and there with colored tails and talking to each other like spurting something out of their faces. I recognized my father. He looked like god or angel. He was not like always. I mean not in a literal way but I was watching him under different light. Not much different from my principal. And nobody was different from one another. Lights and lights were everywhere like I was watching a commercial of plasma television. Everyone had a rainbow light surface over them which was scattering with motions and touch. I was feeling something warm in my ears which couldn’t be noticed much because there were strange things happening around. I didn't tell anyone or they would think that I had gone crazy. I did actually. My father showed some care for me and bought tomato soup from the hospital canteen. I liked tomato soup so much that I never had liked anything before in my life. I wanted to drown in that tomato soup because I loved it like I never loved anything ever before. It had fried bread which went in my mouth with a delightful surprise. It was strange how a veg-soup could be so tasty. It was the time and situation I think which increased the pleasure. Father took his car along but I wanted to go by bus. I wanted to be between so many people around me because I was scared. I was scared because of colors that were following me, newness of the atmosphere and the taste of soup. So scared I was that I kept holding one thing or another on the way back home. In the way I saw like everything was different not only in shape but in meaning also. I cannot explain it but I didn't talk to anyone (even I couldn't). Don't know, maybe this condition was side-effect of unconsciousness or aftereffect of medicine or gas. I am feeling a sweet drowsiness and maybe everything would go back to normal. Though, I am not sure if I want this to happen because present condition is pleasant in a way and I kind of liking it. Nature and calm has found its way to me. So even if world would remain like this then I am happy.

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Veena

Name : Veena Sachdeva Age : 23 (at the time of death) Profession : salesgirl and prostitute Qualification : high school Cause of death : suicide She was the most beautiful girl of the class and made for arts only. Anyone could tell. And boys were even anxious while taking to her because they felt a type of inferiority complex in front of her beauty. They couldn't even stand without taking the support of a bench or friend. And she was well aware of her power. She knew how to use it in her favor. In the absence of a steady boyfriend, she believes in playing with everyone around. And other students liked to be played. But in the class she got a reputation of a bitch. All the girls hated him and most of the boys too. But it didn't change the solid facts that she was capable of getting what she wanted. Even the examiners gave her full marks after asking childish questions in the oral test on the second last term. Nobody protested. Rumors were that she was the only girl of the class who wasn't a virgin. Rumors are rumors. Words were even that she wasn't used to go home after the school and she was going to clubs and that she was even staying at the boys homes at nights. Few were false, few were true. One day a student saw Veena kissing a guy fiercely in an empty room of the school. She looked at the student and kept kissing this boy. It was a fun for her and a fun is even funnier with challenge. She wanted to become a model and was trying her luck. She was sending her photos to the agencies and was getting some positive replies too. She was only waiting for the school to finish because her parents gave her permission only on this condition that she would clear her final year first. That wasn't much far so she wanted to make sure that no time would be wasted after that. There were six months to the final exams and clearing arts wasn't too tough for her. Nothing was tough with such an amazing face and gifted curves. Veena had a movie date that day but she decided to go there after visiting the chemistry lab. That was going to be the worst mistake of her life.

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She was talking to a boy and someone struck something and something fell down. There was a noise of breaking-glass, crushes and shout before she fainted. With closing eyes she saw a world so beautiful and perfect. Where children were playing on swings and parents were calling them with gifts in hands. Where no one was doing any jobs and people were engaged in their favorite activities. Where sweet music was in the atmosphere all the times. Everyday was a new festival. Everyone was great. People were talking to each other with smiles. There were rivers oceans and things to eat everywhere available for free. Veena spat in disgust and her eyes were completely closed now. Now nothing would ever be same again for her. All the doctors seemed more interested in her than anyone else. No one cared now. Everyone was lost into themselves. She didn’t even protest when one of the doctor touched her breasts. Back at that time and the time that followed. She had forgotten her sense of self completely and started touching everything like a four week old infant. Her parents were talking to each other. She recognized their voices and smiled. They were happy that everything was perfect. It wasn’t perfect only, it was more than perfect. Far away a person was talking on the phone. Police was at the door. There were other kids in the same uniform. Everything was so unknown and senseless. So distant from her own position. She looked at her short skirt and shaved legs. Veena wanted to sleep. She felt so tired. She wondered why every man was looking at her with strange needy eyes. After sometime, a nurse gave her some juice with harsh expressions. Nurse was angry with reasons unknown to her but she might be a really nice woman by heart. Juice was tasty. Everything was feeling good and soft on her body. Like a type of sensation. Or a feeling so complete and making her hungry at the same time. She couldn't figure it out. She held the hand of a ward boy on while going out from the corridor of the hospital. Ward boy forgot all the jobs he was assigned too. Touch pleased her and gave her a sense of protection and care. She slept for 20 hours after coming back. Next night she ran away from home in her night suit. No one can hide with a fairy face and she didn't want to. She gladly accepted whatever anyone was offering her and gladly let them do whatever they wanted. She didn't understand what was in her body which was so precious for these people but she liked their attention and other things. After going through a roller-coaster life for many days on road, where she slept, ate and fucked only, She ended up in a nice house, whose owner kept her there gladly, fulfilling her every need. He came at nights or at weekends only. He used her in all the ways he desired or fantasized. She was the best looking woman he had ever seen in his life and she had lost some screw.

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What else could a man ask for? Good for him. He threw her out after two years for personal reasons. She didn't mind at all. Veena went to a shop and start working there. It was a Jewelry shop and Jeweler was enchanted. For a month she worked there till jeweler knew about her nature. He repeated the history and had the business sense to sell her after a few months. She wondered what, why and how everything that was happening to her. She was like in a flow and it was taking her somewhere. She didn't even have to move her organs. I don't even have to screw you a customer told her as a compliment but he did screw her two times in three hours. She fell in love with all of them. Even the men who were treating her harshly. Once she was looking at her face in the mirror and she started crying because it was not looking like her own. Her parents found her one day outside a tea-stall when the owner was telling her dirty jokes and she was giggling shamelessly. Parents took her home. There she looked at her old photographs and remembered which she had long forgotten. Even the place where everything was in order and perfect with festivals everyday. She started suffering with attacks of nostalgia. She started reminding the past with time and started becoming sad and sadder. When she recalled her dreams, her face which was looking ever more fascinating now, Veena couldn't keep her balance and decided one day that life had nothing for her in box now. She made a smiley on her suicide note before jumping off the third floor. She fell on her face while hitting the road. It was a deliberate effort to punish her face. She hated her face.

Restaurant meeting

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Two people were talking in that restaurant seemed scared. Because they knew the two people who committed suicide recently. ‘One more death and police would grab me right from my office’, Raviraj took a gulp of the whiskey to stay calm. ‘Just because you are the principal of the school where they were studying once?’ Jagdeesh shrugged and mixed salt in his whiskey glass. He could have eaten bread with watermelon. Food was meant for stomach according to him. ‘So, what else does it mean? All the students of arts section of my school are dying one by one. Think this is normal? They would come to ask me for sure’, Principal said. ‘But you can avoid them easily. Say that it has nothing to do with you and it is just a coincident and you are busy in organizing functions. Just like that and you are out.’ ‘And what if there would be fourth death?’ Principal looked at him with plane face. ‘Then you would be looking for bugs in your telephone and some people might be following you. haha. This is India. Who cares about suiciding people that once went to same arts class? Police wouldn't notice this fact. They even miss the obvious details these days,’ Jagdeesh tried to comfort him with an idea that it wouldn’t work on principal. Comforting is an act of formality sometimes. ‘When you told me that day to close the school and open a hotel there I thought that you were joking.’ ‘I wasn't joking. And you know that.’ ‘I wish you were.’ ‘I was serious. I am serious right now too. Just not showing it.’ ‘Thanks for saying this. I should have opened a hotel or something right after the graduation. By the way, What was in that tube which you gave me that unlucky day when I trusted you?’ Dheeraj asked. ‘You don't want to know. It would just increase your heart beat so leave it. In short it was a sample of chemical weapon. I don't even know about the exact effects because it was under development but it has something to do with the mind. Something to do with the perception. In another words basic thinking and imagination.’ ‘You mean it changes the way one look at the world’ ‘You got it. We have tried it on animals. Rats and monkeys mostly. They stopped eating. They tried to chew the bars and glass. And I don't know how but a monkey popped-out his left

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eye one day,’ Jagdeesh tried but a smile came out of his lips showing few white teeth. ‘I am telling you. These fools cannot be out ansestors. From my experience, even a frog behaves more cleverly.’ ‘That is so cruel.’ ‘Yeah, monkey was eating it when we came back into the lab.’ ‘I can’t think of anything now accept how far one can go if the outlook has been manipulated.’ ‘Yes, me too because in a way everything is connected to the way we understand the circumstances and different angles of same thing. A pencil can be taken as a murder weapon in wrong hands. What would a serial-killer do with a bouquet of flowers except decorating of body of victim's corpse. Newton saw the laws of gravitation in falling apple. Everything is just perception and if it is distorted and destroyed then God helps the person’. Principal looked at his hands. Destiny. There was still nothing much to do. There were just the questions and no answers except waiting for that chemical to perform another disaster. Strange how such a small thing could change lives. But his student or anyone else was important for him and it was not about saving himself from the law but to save others too who unfortunately were present at such an unfortunate event. ‘So, should we worry about what would happen next?’ Principal asked because there was nothing else to ask anyway and he was feeling like talking. ‘No, that wouldn't be a good solution. I mean, it was a weapon but it was under development and it was a government project at its initial stage. I didn't put it in our lab because senior officials had advised me against it. But it is not an evil thing by nature. No, I am not saying that. Water and fire is life but can kill if behave in other ways. I was in the development team so I have seen each and every step. We didn’t use poisons. We used radioactivity. And radioactivity means surprise. Remember Hiroshima? It is neutral but highly potent. It is like human being. It may come out to be the worst or the best case scenario. I mean we didn't tested or defined the behavior of the chemical,’ Jagdeesh sighed and the look on his face was of a confused man. Just like when he was in fifth standard, principal thought. Damn, why did he keep such a demon thing in his own lab between soft kids (yeah soft). ‘Are you trying to comfort me? Because this is not working.’ ‘I am not trying to comfort you but I am doing exactly opposite thing. You want to say that I am not a trustworthy person. You know better than that. I think we shouldn't talk about that because there is not much left to talk about. We are just puppets in this huge playground of activities,’ Jagdeesh added some more salt in the whiskey.

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‘You are quoting Shakespeare to justify. There were twenty-five students present there when this happened. And two of those are no more. 23 more students and I can’t even track them down to help,’ principal slapped on the table and irritated because Jagdeesh was treating the whiskey like chicken soup. ‘You aren't of much help anyway. Just calm down and keep breathing. And I have good news.’ ‘Really? What? A time-machine now?’ Dheeraj asked in a sarcastic way. ‘Aha,’ He shook his head and produced a piece of newspaper and showed it to the principal, ‘This is your student, see.’ Principal saw the crumpled copy of the newspaper. The guy who was smiling on the top of the front page was actually his student from the batch of 1999. Radioactive smile. Principal thought.

Sudhir

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Name – Sudhir Mehta Education: M.B.A Employment: self-employed (founder of Kalash Industries), Chairmen of Kalash NGOs.

Other achievements: Limca book record holder as the youngest billionare of india, businessmen of the year by Today. Hobbies: playing carom (alone). The Birthday night Birthday doesn't occurs everyday. He wanted to celebrate this day alone. He didn’t know the reason. He didn't even know that this day would come. Even he had planned that it wouldn’t. Sudhir had everything on impulses which happened to him like shocks from some inner-self. He didn’t have idea if he did all this for the comforts or fun. Or perhaps he wanted to break and to destroy his life completely by taking extreme decisions in the most critical of times. Or what else could be the reason for taking such drastic steps which no one would ever dream of taking. Taking a long road from the highway that went from Delhi to Gurgaon he was trying hard to concentrate on the road ahead. Path was clear and not much traffic at this time of the day. Only a few other cars with fun craving people inside or some truck drivers with opium and other substances for making them work actively at sleeping hours to complete the round. If only they knew the value of sleep. Sleep was most precious for Sudhir. Most important things are often the ones which people don’t have much. Sudhir used to forget his dreams but he still remembered that one which he saw at the night of lab accident. This dream was so colorful and bright. More real than the reality of nude eyes. He saw that he was dead and laying like a rag on the floor of an unknown room. This dream was so alive that it made him numb. Even when he woke up that night, he was feeling like a dead man walking. As if he got no life but still breathing. He got up from the bed. Room was extraordinary dark. There was no sound of anything. Even the clocks and bugs were silent. For a few second he thought that he was deaf. He snapped fingers near his ears to confirm. After a sigh of relief he went to bathroom. Sudhir washed his face and hands and he could see the water but it had no temperature and weight. He made a tea and went to bed again. And since then he was watching this dream each time he slept.

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In the beginning Sudhir was so scared that he tried to stop sleeping. But that wasn't possible because one has to sleep eventually. He started looking like a dummy because that dream was killing the soul inside him. He was feeling like a zombie. Fun stopped making him happy and food stopped being delicious to him. Love seemed to him like a useless worthless feeling. There was no reason for him to do anything now because all the juices of life were tasteless to him. For few weeks he tried to watch cartoons before sleeping to change his image of the world. As a result dreams got more violent. Full of crying and winters. He tried to involve in fun and happy situations like hanging out with friends and parties. People avoided him usually because of the strange way he was acting. His talking started scaring others because it normally revolves around sleeping, dreams and a few uncomfortable questions. Questions he asked people were about their past life and its affect on their work and relationships. His story started when he decided to end up his life. But he didn't want to die like a dog. He decided to make it possible in some special way. He would do what everyone was scared to death of and would wait for the disaster to grab and take him. He would go like a hero. With this thought, he stole all the money from his home another day and bought lottery from twenty five thousand bucks. He showed his father that investment and got punished with kicks and slaps. Two lotteries actually won. Prize amount from the first lottery was 50 rupee and the second lottery prize amount was 130000000/- in Indian currency. He was a millionaire now at the age of 18. His father apologized immediately but Sudhir despised that lottery which had failed all his plans. He decided to get bankrupt and jailed. So, with a friend, he started a company taking loans from the big banks on the credit that he was a bumper lottery winner of the town. And then a long trail of buying-selling everything and mad risks which made him the youngest billionaire of the town too.

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It was unbelievable when Sudhir looked back at all the events that had happened in the past few years. He was still dreaming that night everyday. It was more horrible each time. Sometimes more than before. He had seen many reputed psychiatrists to cure this dream problem. To skip the dreaming phrase, he even tried soothing music and sleep-reduction drugs. None helped. Though, he was getting habitual in all this and becoming risk addicted with time. This was the only entertainment that he was enjoying. He liked helping people so he opened NGOs too. Now that Sudhir was mature and intelligent so he could figure out the whys of his condition. He knew that somehow it was related to the accident that happened in the lab. It was just a gas and 20 students dropped never to regain their posture ever again. That wasn't a normal thing. He never heard from anyone of them later on. No one tried to establish any contact. They went without any further trace to track them. They went breaking all the ties of friendship. He took the services of some detective agencies and now he knew that everyone from his class was suffering, many were missing and two were dead. That was quite a revelation. Though he didn't want to interfere in others life but he ran his men after some of the other classmates to keep an eye on those. Sudhir didn't want to help. That wasn't in his mind. But he didn't even want to keep standing on one place either. He understood the value of information now and many other things which others consider unimportant. He wanted to get rid of that dream at any cost. Sudhir was known to be a man of guts in business world. Even in his own company people had fear of him and his ruthless decisions. They knew that Sandeep could close the company if he would feel like that in a flick of eyelash. His competitors were scared of being in field with a suicidal businessman. Though, the business kept growing and growing. He got everything that he didn't want. But that opened his door for things where he could be busy whole day to save himself from creepy thoughts and could buy or do anything. That helped a little. But he wanted to overcome every obstacle now. He longed to sleep peacefully. There had to be some way. There should have been something which could be done. It was just a dream; he used to tell himself before retiring to sleep everyday. But this wasn't changing anything. A dream empowering and dominating all his life and this fact was making him so angry. Reading Freud to understand dreams made him more confused. Interpretation of dreams was more difficult than the text books he didn’t studied during school. He put the flowers near the bed on advice of a close friend. He used girls to dream of sex and lust or anything else except that oldie on the suggestion of a stranger he met in during flight.

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Stranger told him that too much loneliness might be the cause of his disorder. So loneliness got removed in next few days by going to dates and orgies. Sudhir did threesomes with the girls of his own company and club pick-ups before sleeping with coke and sleeping pills. Came the time when he wasn’t alone at all. Regular memberships of the most elegant clubs and page 3 parties made a place in his tight schedule. Things remained same. Girls told him that he slept peacefully with mouth opened like a baby. He become angry on this fact and threw them out. They cursed him and that comforted his heart. He replied by cursing to get more of it. None came back. He called his loyal employee at night and cursed him too. Employee apologized for all the mistakes he had done. Sudhir laughed in the receiver and promised to the salary of that employee. Then he threw the phone out because there was nothing else to do right then and there. Birthdays should be fun.

Second page of the diary

That feeling of drowsiness seems permanent now. And I think that I can live with it happily. Though, everything looks useless now. Useless and in colored frames. I mustn't tell this to anyone and there is no one to tell and no need to tell. They have already made this assumption that I am good for nothing worthless scorer. Yes, I am indeed but not only a worthless scorer. I am a worthless scorer and a failure of life. I am almost non-existent socially and worst that I don’t even want to. Everything goes straight to my feeling gland without being filtered. And here is Aniket, saying bad things about himself to himself with no one else to listen. So this is my destiny. Here with a pen and diary in my hands. yeah. This is where I would end up. That’s how things turn out to be if you are not careful enough. Life is an accident waiting to happen. One second you are singing with smile and reading poetry looking at the bright sun, another second you are on the corner of a street hoping a vehicle to crush you as bad as it can. My father thinks differently. I don't care what he thinks or what they assume. This is just sleep I do now all the time. It feels like I am in another dimension or some other place. Every object, place or smell touching me with a neutral. Whatever I see and wherever I go this emptiness and hollowness of the environment is following me. I am not saying that this is bad in someway. This is only strange.

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I didn't have anything except good marks before that accident and now it doesn’t bother me anymore. Everyone seemed like rich and enlightened before that happening and now they look like fools. Day and night is same, water and fire is same, pain and happiness, done and undone is same. Every physical or non-physical entity has simplified itself as a zero in my mind and controlling me with freedom. It is difficult to say but now the question is if I should stay like this or come out (as if it is under my hands). But this condition is not letting me think. Too deep thinking is boring and tiresome for me these days. There is a thirst I feel on pushing my brain more than its limit. Means real thirst of water. I drink a lot sometimes. Alcohol cannot be as refreshing. When I see someone doing hard-work it makes me spit on the floor. Everyone disgust me with their small thinking, narrow-minds and cheap expressions. What I can do when they are like this? I am happy in my universe. Hey, these words can be listened many times by people of my age. Don’t let these fool you. Happy in own universe have exactly the opposite meaning from what it says. It means that the person saying is an immovable asshole who don’t listen to nobody even if he is totally defeated and floored. Whatever I have or not have but I am satisfied atleast. Because I have no other choice, maybe. How would you feel if you are in heaven and cannot get out of there? Would it bother you? May be. I mean what if you would shit in a flower pot in front of a crowd. What if you would eat it after that? What if you would walk on a rope with closed eyes. And what if you would think that you are a king or a beggar. All the circumstances unite here. Today I saw my father when I was smoking. He looked at me not with sadness or disappointment but with the eyes of a spectator. He is a good man. A good man in this good world. He is as useless as all the others. He wanted good scores from me. Isn’t that a comedy? But I want to give him what he wants. I am eating his food after-all. You don't bite the hands that feed you. You kiss those hands so those would keep feeding. I wonder what this world would be like without stomachs. And without brains. I am laughing right now. Don’t know the reason. Maybe because this room is so big or too small. What if my thoughts will come out in solid form. What if everyone is wrong and only I am right. But coins don’t come out of ears. That much I know. It is writing that comforts me. Reading is more like reading another's beliefs. Writing is like telling yours. I met a boy once who believed that drinking from a wooden cup can cause bad-luck. And he was extremely careful about not to be in touch with anything wooden during each meal. I liked his passion. And I liked that he was sticking to this misconception like a bug on cobweb. He was making it true in a way. His faith was making it true. I was so impressed with him that impression become jealousy and I told about this to all the losers of my class. They were fuckers all of them, I tell you. They made the boy eat in a wooden bowl with a wooden spoon over a wooden chair and wooden table. Everywhere was woods. It was looking like a scene

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from Flintstones or Tarzan. That boy told them that he wasn’t hungry. They laughed and I laughed with them. We made him finish the entire bowl of noodles. He vomited in mid-way. We laughed again. It was a nice experience. We were making him stronger. One shouldn’t live for feelings and beliefs. We were teaching him that this world only respects the flexible people who are adaptive to every situation. We were teaching him respect for seniors. Next day he brought lunch in a wooden box. I don’t know any place where one can buy a wooden lunch box. But he was passionate about everything. I liked him for that. And I was jealous. I learned something from him too. I learned that life is a suffering on both sides. I want to like sights and people. And I want to love poems and fairs. Sports like Cricket and Football. Wish I can live this lifestyle, which I don’t like. Why I don’t like it? I want to be greedy on watching a gold chain on the road. A girl without clothes. A chicken burger with twin patties. To cry over pain and to be happy over a jokes. To be scared of dark and sleepy at night. Instead, now I am fearless and awake. I feel like plastic in front of girls. And a gold chain makes me think about my yellow shirt. This funny nostalgia annoys me so much. I remember one thing on watching another. And both has no connection at all with each other. I think about bamboo rods on watching a cycle, I remind of my old fountain pen on listening to a particular song. Old people say that there is a reason behind everything. I want to meet them once who said this. Just once. I am just made of particles and other stuff. And this thought is jamming my body. Blood is dirty water with cells inside. All this is filthy and mixed up in each other, getting filthier and dirtier day after day. Yeah, this is the whole philosophy of the thing called life. I don't like myself. I am loaded with this weight without my permission that I am forced to endure whole life. I didn't choose this or maybe I did. But now I know the truth. And the truth is spinning my head.

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Deepak

Name – Deepak Malhotra Age – 23 Education – B.A Honors (history major) Occupation – Teacher Hobby – collection of rare items

There was more to him He was a teacher, simple to understand and trendy in style. He was the kind of person who ate egg in the breakfast and heavy meal at lunch to be shoulders and hands with his generation. He was good at meeting with people and nice at parties. He was unmarried, available and eligible. His mother was talking to the relatives for a suitable girl for him. And he was getting good proposals of rich and reputed families with hidden promises of dowry. He got a cute smile and mustaches. He was an ideal Indian responsible man. With a job. Car. house. Everything .. Yes.. He was a nice teacher too. Children loved him for his knowledge and capacity for solutions. He entered the classroom everyday with an unmatched energy and exits with the same. Parents seek advice from him on the matter of their children because he was the best teacher of the school, according to the kids. At the small age of 22 he got a solid reputation of a mentor. Students could meet him after the class and could call him anytime for problems related to his own subject or other's.

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He wasn’t doing it like a duty but like life itself. He was totally involved in whatever he was assigned to. Whether, it was the duty to take the exam or to give extra classes. Most loved his ability and talent to give examples and you could have asked him anything from anywhere. He was a walking Google. He knew how to make the subject interesting and easy for liberated grasps. All the facts about freedom struggle were on his fingertips. Which king fought whom and why and how the cities made and the whole system of diplomacy. Which queen was unfaithful. Which king was stupid. Which city was famous for what? Who killed whom? Who ruled what? Mixed-humor was the part of his art. Added self-made comments told in a serious way which confirm his dignity and kept classes refreshed even during most boring chapters. His number was written on the main bench in front with so anyone could note it down for occasional need. He was an all-rounder teacher in short. People were envious of him because of his perfect life with that permanent smile on his face. He was a follower of strict schedule, tastes and passions. There was nothing he much liked. His likes were simple and normal. Deep liked spicy traditional Indian food with occasional fish and leg piece inside the curry. A cigarette after the food with a movie or book at evening to complete a perfect day. He was a collector too. He got a passion to collect stamps, old coins and skulls of kids in the basement of the house. Hobbies are hobbies and passions are passions. One cannot question those. And the art class of 1997 didn’t care about anything when it came to personal choices. They were famous for imitating there feeling into realities on whatever result. Cowards care about results. Artists listen to their souls and obey it blindly. Life on own terms can be hard or easy but very interesting. Very fucking interesting like mixing hells and heavens to drink-bath inside. Like the drops of melting red iron on hands and crying over its beauty. Shaping the entire structure with passions can convert it in a graphic-bloody movie with a parental advisory tag on a reddish bookmark. This time it was killing the innocent slum kids and possessing their skulls in the underground room. Skulls were kept in the showcase behind the bench which was covered and layered in dried blood. For Deep, it was his personal matter. He used to pick-up playing slum kids or kids from the parks at evenings after reading a nice good book of personal development, success or sex. It was easy to fool kids and it was easier to fool a poor one. Just show them a chocolate or toffee or say butter-sugar words or just pick them up and throw them in the back or front seat of the car. Then make them sleep by using some chemical or some hard hit on head. Then take them to the apartment and then to the coated bench in front of showcase. Then wait for the child to wake up again so they can throw legs and cry. Deep never cleaned the room except throwing the remaining outside. Remaining included blood stained clothes, bones, skin, foot-wears and fat. With time, salty-lemony bloody aroma of that room became intoxicating. He liked to sit in that room and think about the past. Like some people do on beaches and over mountain cliffs during sunset. Different

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people, different choices. He was doing it with the same enthusiasm and smile which he used in the class to teach and help kids. He loved them all. A normal person couldn’t stand still for more than 10 minutes in that room without puking up or getting fainted with disgust. The room was filled with flies and other small insects. It had sticky air like sweaty-thick moisture all over. There was a cat in this room once but it died in three days with suffocation even after getting proper food and drink. Cats are stupid anyway and used to freedom. One shouldn’t be used to freedom or anything good of any kind. It is very difficult to come out of these addictive habits. Cat’s body was still there in disrespect for it failed to suffer. Suffering is an art and few who fail to suffer has no rights to live and respected. One has to accept suffering as inseparable part of body and mind. The room had a single bulb emitting blue light which remained on all the time. It was a very beautiful bulb with a soft light. It was a costly piece imported thru a website. Its light mixedup with blood to make a dark-violet which was perfectly matching to the atmosphere. Deep had no trouble to breath in this air of lovely children. It was always the most relaxing moment of the day when he entered in the basement. It was directly beneath the living room area of this old house which was made by his grandfather. Grand-father didn’t know other uses of a basement. He made it to keep the grains and other house-hold items which couldn’t be kept in open. Old people were so thoughtful in their simple way of living. Gran-pa didn’t make it to cut the children and conserve their little skulls, that was for sure. Sometimes Deep used to tap on the living room floor to get in touch with his other self. The other face which was hidden from outer world. Truth is bearable only when you have nothing to cover it up. Suffering is the truth which people try to hide behind a fake smile of 220 volt. That’s where the truth get confused with other necessary gestures and people don’t go much further from that point because that is a point which separate good from evil. There is the thin line of madness which once crossed never to return again. Then you are on the other side forever holding your hairs for comfort. Even Deep didn’t know why he was doing all this because it was not a Jekyll or Hyde thing. He had planned everything and sometimes even at the school while teaching and talking. It was the matter of choice. He looked outside for some kid who was out of the pack for sometime. Helping them out was his nature and hobby. He was just an ordinary person with an unordinary habit. Killing the kids on alcohol was more fun. He had the collection of cheap plastic and metal jeweler of his victims too. On special occasions like award ceremony or inspection, he liked to wear those as lucky charms. Lucky charms were working well because he was doing great in every field.

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That day when police was searching for the evidence for the missing kids, he was wearing a bracelet of a six year old. Wearing it just excited him with a funny feeling in the groin because parents of the kids were with police and they didn’t recognize the bracelet. They were looking so poor and might be half happy that they wouldn’t need to feed an extra stomach from now. ‘My only son has lost, saab ji. Inispector saab is helping us to find him,’ man with yellowbrown teeth told Deep. Poor guy was looking at the floor ashamed of himself for doubting a respectable teacher and ashamed of his appearance. He was the only dirty thing present there… If only he had seen the underground room of that house. ‘Sorry to disturb you, sir. You know these people. They create bastards and keep them in open. Disgracing our country’ Yes, They deserve it he thought to himself in order to justify his act. ‘Its all-right inspector. I am ready to co-operate as much as I can. I am a teacher myself and understands a father heart well.’ Father’s heart, my ass. Deep’s daring increased with time and he started throwing bones and hairs in the house of parents and inside the police stations, at nights, when no one looked. He was dying to be known in someway as an artist, not a molester. In this process, Deep crossed all the limits of hesitation. Other face was craving to be known because it considered itself as a great-man not an ordinary teacher. Ordinary teacher was fading slowly and was unable to keep up with such an extreme character, which was pushing it with every passing second. He started being angry on the kids and once he pushed a student so hard on the matter of incomplete homework that the student hit the wall and broke his finger bone. That made a spot on Deep’s white shining reputation. For his amusement, it was making Deep happier instead. He was getting what he wanted. In school and he started punishing everyone on small issues. Life was complete and fulfilled but he desired for more. So it wasn’t going to satisfy him. Nothing was going to satisfy him from now. He was a butcher not some normal tutor. He messed up all from top to bottom in personal to professional life in the trail to send signals about his real identity. And wise-men say that when you do something with total dedication, you always get it. He wanted to reveal his identity in someway. To be known as a death artist and the god of fear. One day, a local Journalist did a story on missing kids in the slum area near the Deep’s house. The day when the story broad-casted on the television, it was the happiest day of the life of Deep. People started shouting on the streets with the banners that were saying ‘we want killer’, ‘useless police’ and ‘high power cut, unemployment and now chain-murderers’.

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It fired up the investigation and two inspectors got suspended. Hundreds of FIR’s filed up in few days of time. Even the guardians who lost their kids in road accidents and other disasters were blaming chain-killer for plotting everything. One investigation leads to another and finally it become clear that the serial killer is somewhere near that area where Deep was living. Now they started shortlisting suspects and before dawn they were after Deepak, loaded with their entire backup and equipment that could have handled a terrorist group if needed. This was inevitable, Deep knew. He made it possible. The place of glory had been achieved. For a few moments of anti-climax while he was watching police-men coming from far away so carefully, Deepak felt a deep relief. It could be seen from his window. He went to the basement and locked it from inside. There were three children to celebrate with him. Alive. One of them was in bad condition. Other two were sobbing. ‘Are you hungry?’, Deep asked. One of the children answered in yes, Deep gave him a chocolate. Kid was happy that he was eating tasty chocolate before dying. What a pity that he was dying. Now, he could meet god in some hours and ask him a few questions that were bubbling in his mind since he had opened these dusty eyes. That room was symbolizing nothing else but death. Red table, smells and the cabinet of skulls. He wasn’t much scared to die right now. If this is life: this poverty and hunger and now this predator then dying was worth it. His mind was working in a familiar way where people try to accept their destiny, to keep it reasonable and then surrender. When Deep told them that the police was coming and they would be rescued, there was no happiness on kids faces. Third one kept eating the chocolate. Other two were looking at the floor with nostalgic expressions, remembering the times they had in this selfish world which only knew taking. Third one wanted to ask for more chocolate. It was so tasty. It was the first time he was eating such a luxurious food. ‘Listen, i am going to escape from here. Okay? Police would come and take you to the shitty place where you belong. This thing is getting boring although. Take care,’ Deep went back and couldn’t be found. He was 23 years old at that time.

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Wall of fortune

There was a wall Something was written on that wall Not something but many things Many things were there There were quotations There were notes There were calculations There were love letters There were schedules There were names There were lists There were untold things There were told things There were nights and days There were crying and prays There were things that broken There were things that were made Everyone, please touch this wall This was a wall of life A sister and a wife A pistol and a knife This wall you couldn’t miss A wall with that and this And a man was writing there He got a few pencils in spare Pencils were spreading in the whole room Brided pencils and penciled grooms

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Today was the day he was born Today was the day to morn and torn No one was there to wish and gift No one was there to greet and lift Writing was the activity going around Writing was what left and found Writing was a magic there Writing was triangle and round One could eat the words Words were tasty Then one could have thrown up Words were pretty dusty Slow down show down Blow down grow down There were some living things there too One rat, two lizards and insects few Something was there out of understanding Something was theeere inside Balances were disturbed and mixed within Feelings were broken and fixed within There was nothing much to do there So no one was near close anywhere Only a man of humidity was writing He knew the wall, he didn’t know nothing Walls were decorated with text all around Walls were decorated with falls all around Falling and crying and waking up on walls Falling and getting up and thinking on walls Thoughts feelings emotions through structure of stones Crying and flying and treasures and groans There is always a lucky day There is always a fucky day He got one too He got fun too Nothing else he wanted but walls He couldn’t notice other dimensions Six years hadn’t changed much Just a beard, a face and life as such

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He wasn’t sad or sorry or anything else He was just at the bottoms and hells Sorry were the creatures of civilized world Sorry for the creep, who curled Sorry for the games life plays Sorry for all nights and days Getting rid is the toughest to do Fighting the soul, either killing one or two One can’t get rid of getting rid at all Getting rid would get large by pieces small Too many questions to keep them busy Too many questions to keep them crazy Many are useless Many are fruitless Can’t get rid of the cycle Questions would keep coming So this was the story of the wall-writer This was the story neither sad nor sorry This was the story of a day and days that followed Fucking and lucking and dwelling and hollowed You might meet some wall-writer one day Do tell him that his mind is out He might write it over his wall He might cry with sounds or without

Tanak Crossing this road was never so tough. Electromagnetism should have learned something from him. He had the charisma of a diamond. Stars and suns seemed lightless in front of his sober shine. Deep had just came out of the computer institute. Where people were still waiting

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for him to show up. Now they knew the sweetness of waiting for a beloved. Now they had too much to spent the rest of there year in the memory of the moment when they felt the god of love. It was a new beginning for them when they could experience again all those dreams, bubbles and butterflies in a new light. Doors to their own selves were opened. It was incredible and they had stopped thinking. The road wasn't much different and untouched with his presence. Every particle was hungry for his touch to lick the nectars from heavens. Air was flowing in Tanak’s direction. Cars, scooters and people were making a curve before passing near him. It could be seen with naked eyes from the top of the buildings that there was something crawling on the road and pulling all the strings around. If someone would throw a ball it had went towards Tanak definitely. He wore goggles because of sunlight. People were looking at him with all the hopes of ages. Making him angrier and lovelier than before. How sweet he was looking in anger. Honeysweet. Too much of honey. Bitter honey. Yellow and perfect. He had papers in hand. Wow, papers and pen in his shirt, wow pen. And he was not interested. Yeah, not interested. He was not a human being. He was someone else. Definitely. He couldn't be a human being. How a human being can be so heartless. Look the way he was going like he didn't care for no one. Like he was angry on them. Someone should have told him. That how much he was being loved. About their feelings and hopes. Since the time they had seen him. Now it was difficult to keep it up with the rest. To keep doing what they were doing. They had been interrupted, in a way to lose their balance forever. Deep asked for the coke in a shop at the corner. Everyone stopped eating. Deep finished the coke in few gulps and went his way. Offf... It was always hot when he was outside. All this humidity and fire. Seemed like sun was just a few kilometers away from the ground level. Season can really piss-off if it comes to that. Specially in Delhi where even forecast doesn't work. It may have rained in the morning if there is a bright sky at afternoon. No system. No rules. People are thankful that at-least Delhi remains dark at night. Between the hypocrisy of weather and people, all the machines run smoothly. Here are almost negligible natural disasters because in this city there are no mountains and no oceans surrounding it corners. Only a little river with no respect left. There are only people and people and people on all the streets, parks, between the trees, river demolished and abandoned places. So many people that it would tire a calculator to count. They are more than ants, match-sticks and hairs on your head. Running the machine of Delhi is an easy task with so many hands. But today it was different. Blood was pushing him from inside. Body hairs were looking thicker. He was making too many automatic assumptions of the sudden trouble with surroundings and people. There could be a thousand irregularities and co-incidents on this place. But he didn't want to accept only one. The real one. The truth. That all this tension over the place was happening just because of him only. It was getting bigger than him and taking over him. good-look and charm is another thing but this thing was cruel. It was giving no choices and chances to anyone coming in contact. He started walking faster and then running to hide behind the road between two houses. He sat there on the stone boundaries and took deep breaths. People inside the house came out with water and invitation to come inside the house because outside was too hot. ‘Being in direct sun is not good for you. Please come inside quickly’ girl in red top asked him. She was close to tears. She was serious. Another woman came out from behind.

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'Look mom, he is not coming inside. He needs help,' she told that woman. No I don’t Tanak think. Tanak walked away from there also. He couldn't shed himself now. They were all over him from all the directions. Plants, animals, air and light. All the elements had fallen in love with him. Birds were chirping. Leaves looked greener. Sky was clean. Tanak was afraid to touch the walls and to talk to anyone. He was walking faster making springs and autumns behind himself. He saw an unused sewer-pipe laying vertically at the side of the street. Tanak went inside. This was a perfect place and big enough for sitting and lying down of an average person with a slight discomfort. Discomfort was not the problem of Tanak. He feared that people would make a circle outside it but nothing like that happened. Only a dog came after fifteen minutes and sat near his lap. Sewer-Pipe was allowing only a few meters of sight seeing on both sides. It was like looking from inside a tunnel. There was a road on one side of the pipe and a cloth manufacturing at another side. This view was so smooth on the eyes of Tanak. He kept watching the trucks and all the workers loading and throwing bundles of clothes here and there. He wanted to go and help them in loading. Anything to keep his mind off the girls. But he couldn’t do this because results of going out of this pipe could be scary. He started talking to the dog after sometime. ‘What is your name?’ ‘Your name is Bumpy from now.’ 'Bumpy.’ ‘What is your name? Bumpy.’ ‘Bumpy. You are a good god. What are you? A good dog. Whenever someone says Bumpy you have to run towards him or wag your tail with smile.’ ‘Bumpy, you like me,’ yeah, everybody liked him. wrong question. ‘Bumpy Bumpy, sat on a wall. Your name is Bumpy’ he said in his heavy slow voice. ‘Bumpy look at my eyes. I am hypnotizing you. Haha. Your name is bumpy when I would snap my fingers. 1..2..3.. snap,’ he snapped with his fingers. Dog opened his mouth and took out its tongue. ‘You are great, Bumpy. Or the ghosts would eat me if I has been alone here.’ ‘There are ghosts in lonely places.’ ‘When you are not in love you see ghosts.’ ‘Haaoo... Hooo.. So, one shouldn't be alone and lonely.’ ‘So, you like licking hands, Bumpy. I like licking hands. I like licking legs and faces too.’ Cloth factory seemed new per time he moved his face there. If only he could live here forever. Then he laughed at himself. Flowers would bloom if they had heard this laugh. Too much of sugar it was.

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3rd page of the diary

This is great. I mean great. This is happiness. This is all.. All.. All the time i just mmmm. This is great in all the ways. All the angles. I like water. I like tea. This is great. Blood is tasty too. I like that. I like kisses. mmm. All is outside the head now. All is outside. Inside is just me. This is too good. This is the limit of happiness and sadness or any other emotion or anything that one can feel. This is unbearable. This is light and heavy. Tight and savvy. Lustrous and lovely. I am flying without wings and air. I am flying in water. Colddamp-oily water, which is flowing from everywhere to meet me only. I am not me. I am something else. I am I am. This is out of my knowledge. This is out of questions. Thank God that I am here. Thank God for this day and this very second of lightening. Thanks to my father who brought me in this world and thanks to the kid who fell over that cabinet. Thanks to each and every asshole who insulted and pushed me. This is out of understanding. This is nothing but the truth. Truth, in its purest form. Pure is the word. What would happen if all the things would get pure? There would be nothing then. There would be a pleasant zone with nothing to please. It would be a vast point which is the motive of all the things dead alive or waiting. Like touching a piece of melting-ice. When you don’t know what else to do and you don’t care. You put the ice in your mouth and it may feel good. Or you may feel like a child again and you would say that the ice is not cold. This is all about caring or not caring. I am feeling great. My care is died and I am single with everything else. I want to eat the walls and drink the sand. I want to jump and then lie down to think about Pythagoras theorem. There should be screeches and blood on my whole body for the evidence of life. I want to declare that I am alive. More than anyone else in this planet the souls and ghosts are dancing inside me and telling me that I have some privileges. There should be soil and dirt on my clothes. But there should be nothing on my face. There should be just me and me everywhere.

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Stepping out of a Mercedes and going inside a slum-house made of plastic sheets and woods to live there for whole life. Or to put the water on my eyes on high face so I can see the clouds. Nothing else should be done. Nothing is incomplete. Nothing is complete. Everything is as it should be. And it would be like this forever. This is too much to bear. I don’t want to see now. It is pleasing me to my limits. This emptiness and meaningless world. Why i don’t feel anything? Why fire and water feels the same now? Why hate and love is same? My health is so great even when i remain hungry for many days and haven’t slept for 11 days. Cigarette packs are empty. Why it is so hard to go out. How I can bring the new cigarettes without going out? There is something else in my mind too but I am forgetting that. And there would be shops and vehicles waiting for the next job to be done. There are no chances of rain today. I wish today would be rain. But I fear that my wishes don’t come true. That’s why I don’t wish no more. I can throw the money on a kid to order the cigarettes but for that, I have to talk to him. To talk, I have to open my mouth. And then I might not say what is in my mind. My mouth might ditch me like my fate. The ease of my life has increased too much in past few years. That is making me still and jamming me. A girl talked to me today. She tried. It stirred something inside me. It was sad. Because she wanted something important. Her voice and face told me that she was in need. She was taking calculated steps even in a pitiful task such as talking. She was thinking before saying each line and I failed to understand the real motive behind those nice words. Though, her words were ‘do you like writing with ball-pens?’ I don’t know what she meant actually. To hell with her. I just want to know what is going to happen now. What is the motive of my birth or if i was actually born or this is just an illusion. Is that a punishment for me or enjoyment for someone? You can never say. You can never know. You can never do anything. You can never go anywhere. You can just jump into the river and see where it would take you. And you should only be happy and sad on encountering a rock or tuna fish. Solid, liquid and gas. Electrons and protons. Particles. Cells. Time. Space. Sand. Soil. Water. Webs. Foods. Iron. Bucket. Aah. This is so painful. Some knowledge is useful. Some are useless and some are dangerous. One ought not to know about a few things because one is not made in a way to know the ultimate. Complex bodies can’t digest simple matter. Now that, I got all the things that are important to live decently. No need to say that I require nothing. And that is decent. Not that I know what to say. I just say what comes from inside. And people think that I am a freak or creep or something. A boy in the class actually called me this on my face. Not that I let go of such things. I am so impulsive about these matters. He lost two teeth for saying that which wasn’t much. Not because I was angry but because I was scared of this word. I didn’t want anyone to say that again to me at any cost. I told him sorry for removing

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his teeth and I told him that I didn’t mean it. He trusted me. I like this guy actually. He is the one of those few people who actually notice me. Not only notice but I think that I am one of the reasons he comes to the college for. Anyway, I told him that I would give him anything he wanted and he was free to take any action against me. That it would not affect my nice feelings for him. That was too much. I hope that he do take some action against me because this is a sin to break teeth of someone and I will be punished for doing that. God can never forgive you for a single sin. Look at me and you can realize. Sin comes with curse. I can’t stand one more curse. If you throw a stone at someone, a stone will be thrown at you. Probably the same stone but that is not important. If you would rape, you will be raped. Few boys may like to get raped but that is not important. If you would pick up a pencil for someone, someone else will pick your pencil even if you don’t need a goddam pencil. I don’t know why God waste his precious time in all this instead of bringing out a better system. It feels like some kind of game to me, Where every dog has its day when it can pee on another dog. So is the life. Right now, I am sitting on my floor and eating Maggie noodles. I am hungry and weather is normal. The temperature of the floor is matching my body heat. Everything is a match for me these days. If you would slap me, it would feel like an indistinct part of me. Do slap me to see that I am telling the truth. This is the real theory of singularity. I am a specimen. Sometimes I miss my classmates of school. I despised them and now I think about them sometimes. All the lunacy we used to do those days. It wasn’t that bad if I forget about some gross occasions. I have to forget everything for that. Bastards have left nothing to smile for. What they might be doing right now. Fucking bastards all of them. But that doesn’t matter much. Hope I would meet anyone of those someday and talk about golden past. A past which doesn’t seems mine at all yet is with me like a shadow and light. I wish I would wake up tomorrow and went to my old art class in school. And they would joke about me and make fun of me. Things were digestible those days. But my wishes don’t come true. Now there are no dreams and tastes. No motives and goals. I try to acquire normal life sometimes. But that is so far and difficult for me right away. Because it fills me with hate and other complex emotions. I am thinking about doing a job now. Maybe it would keep me busy or something. Just to get out of this comfort zone.

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The room below the ground floor Police went inside so carefully like they were almost expecting bombs and shootouts. ‘Come on, he is only a stupid teacher.’ ‘Yes, and murderer of more than a 50 kids barely out of their babyhood.’ ‘I know. I know. But he might not like killing with a gun. Serial-killers are not like that. Don’t you see the movies?’ ‘What the movies have to do with it? We are on a real mission man. One flick of eye and you are smoke. Smoke reminds me, do you have a cigarette.’ ‘Yeah, but it is for after the catch. But I can’t see anyone inside,’ Policeman looked inside the window and whispered. ‘Why do you speak so slowly? You are a chicken-rat.’ ‘You talk like girls.’ ‘My four year old talks like this. I am not going to leave this bastard. How a person can be so feeling-less. No fear of god, law, country or own soul.’ ‘Maybe he hates all these. Now stop talking and get inside.’ They opened the window with a screwdriver like rod specially prepared for such jobs and jumped inside one by one. There was nothing except a pitiful old woman. Mother of the accused was lying on the sofa watching television when police entered living room. She didn’t get up to welcome or stop them. She failed to act as an ignorant. Eyes of the mother were saying that she knew the whole story. Probably from the television, probably for a long while. Police had to find the real thing. Old woman could wait a little longer. Her turn would come soon. They put a gun on her head and asked ‘where is the teacher?’ She showed a finger down and told them the way to the basement. She told them not to hit Deep. They laughed and banged the television with .45. ‘Why you do that for?’ One police-man asked. ‘It was making so much noise,’ Another one said. There was a smell from another world when they opened the small-door down. It was really like a door to another world. For a second everyone forget about their jobs, country, people, food, salaries and other things. They quickly closed their noses but that wasn’t enough. They saw little particles like sand-grains flying in the air. What it could be? Impossible to say right there. A whole cemetery was waiting for them below. ‘Hold-on,’ one of them said. ‘There is some noise.’

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‘Like.. like crying.’ ‘Get-down.’ ‘Shut-up.’ ‘Shhh.’ ‘Sister-fucker.’ ‘Shhh.’ They found three poor kids in terrible condition. Each one of them was bruised and had been hit over the head once or twice. ‘Where is Deep?’ Inspector asked them. They were not doctors or counselors. Deep’s escape could have them transferred or suspended. Getting a police job in India isn’t an easy shot. It takes great physique, health, shape, grades, stamina and bribe. But it is well worth it. Kids told them that Deep was long gone. It was not a good news. This room was looking like an un-cleaned butcher-house. They didn’t need any more evidences. But Butcher had left already. They were seeing these three kids only because of mercy of killer. Police didn’t rescue them. Police had done nothing. It was Deep’s story. He was creating it and taking it wherever he wanted. All the twists and turns were his own. He left these kids alive to show his power only. To show his control. Or perhaps it was a gift for the law-savers so they could save their half-blown respects. But that was not enough because every inch of that basement was layered with blood. There were hand marks. There were hairs sticking on the floor. A new duster which had never been used. Deep hadn’t left much work for the police to do, so all of them were staring at each other with pressed jaws. There was only one bulb. Standing there for a long time could be dangerous for body and psyche so they left. After sometime, a special team with masks and special torches went inside. First thing they did was removing that blue colored bulb from the socket. That thing alone sent a shiver of relaxation in each eye there. They took the samples from everything and click the photographs of skulls. Those were beautiful polished skulls arranged according to sizes and dates. Names of the skulls (when they were alive) were written above the jaw part. He had done everything professionally. Teacher like. There were registers with the names, age, father’s name, family occupation, addresses, likes, dislikes, hobbies and photographs of the victims. A separate box with snaps of disfigured bodies. A video-cassette of his dreadful acts and audio-tapes with the voices of kids shouting. Everything was in order. Everything had been left behind intentionally. Investigation team had never seen anything worst. Unidentified filth was sticking to their hands and cloths on touching any corner of the basement. A letter was there right at the center of the table so anyone could locate it easily. How thoughtful. One of those picked it up with clips. Just one fold so it could be opened easily.

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Typed for easy read, it was a note from the teacher, written in Calibri font with an acute letter format used those days for informal letters…. Respected sirs, I am writing this letter to tell you that I am completely innocent. And someone else has done all this. haha. Really. Haha. But seriously, I surprised you guys. Didn’t I? well, take care of my dear room. It is under you now and it is so close to my heart. There are so many things you can have fun with. When you pick up anything, don’t forget to put it back on its place. Haha. Joking. You should throw my mother out and convert this place in a nice museum. That way you would make some good money. So you can try this instead of wasting your time in chasing me. You know the third skull from the right on the second rack. Yes, his name is Dopu. Strange name. Well, he told me thanks before I transformed him in this skull. Nice boy. We should always say pay gratitude to someone’s goodness. That is what I used to teach during primary classes. And yes, if you want more things, those were in my room and under the sofa and some kitchen jars. Fuck your time if you want. There is enough spice to keep you busy for many months. Last but not the least; don’t take care of my mother. She don’t say thanks. She doesn’t even pay attention. Let her be where she is. This is best for everyone. And now about me. Here it becomes a little out of reach case. You think, I am trying to make you angry. Yes, I am doing this. You adults make me angry. You don’t understand simple things quickly. Wish I can slap you from this letter. Haha. Tada.. Thanking you, Teacher Letter folded again and packed for further use. Boxes arrived to take the things out of there. Mother made tea for everyone. They looked at her while saying thanks. Gratitude shouldn’t be forgotten. Crowd started collecting on the gate of the house. People from slums and other uninvited visitors. Few of them came to know the reason behind this hotchpotch. Everyone was crying for justice and threatening to take law in hands. Some of them were trying to get inside while the policemen were stopping them from doing so to protect the crime scene where the collection was still on-going. They had closed eyes and senses and they just wanted to know about their kids. Police had to use power to control the situation. Crowd got out of hands only because of small carelessness of a man who was loading the boxes. He started looking at the noises and one box slipped from his hand. Difficult to assume how the entire human history would look like without any mistakes. Box contained the dear collection of Deep. Two skulls came out silencing every sound in the whole area for few moments. After that it was difficult to differentiate if it was people asking for their sons and daughters or a whole riot. After half an hour there were burning tires, smoke and a small group of people standing near

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the wall, where they couldn’t be hit and where they could see the boxes coming out while weeping. Women were hiding behind their men and men were saying things to the police which no one could make out. Those three kids were returned after medical check up. No signs of sexual activities were found on the body. They were really the gifts. All of them were happy and two of them asked for chocolates because Deep hadn’t been fair to them in distribution. State announced scholarships and awards for them. They become famous in whole country. But not more than Deep. Police couldn’t find out a single photograph of him from anywhere. They had a video but his face was not showing in it. There were bottles of whiskey in the drawers of the table. It tasted fine. Everyone inside wanted a drink to numb brain cells. Mother looked happy that her son rescued. She was even smiling and talking joyfully from time to time. She didn’t care about herself a little. Nobody could understand why Deep wrote such things about his mother. Such a man could do anything was the only explanation to all the queries. All this seemed like a comic book thing, only there was no one to save the asses. Nothing was left except formalities. Media somehow reached a few photographs which were found in the basement. These were published with headlines like ‘killer escaped, signs remained’, and ‘humanity shamed’. Deep was eating noodles while looking at the television and talking to another man whom he had just met. They were talking about the state of law and politics in the country. And the man was chuckling again and again while listening to the news and throwing abuses for whoever had done all this. Deep was trying to comfort him and asked the man about his family. He had a wife and a little daughter. Deep told the man that he too was going to marry soon. Man congratulated him and asked for a peek at the lucky girl. Deep told him that he was shy about such matters. Ungrateful mother got killed after some days by some revenge seeker. As if Deep didn’t knew about it before. It was good enough for her that Deep was safe. She had always been a good mother. He loved her very much also when he was younger. They used to talk sometimes and play cards. She was good in math as he was good in history. Her husband didn’t like to live with her due to the conflicts. Deep liked his father also. He used to love everyone. Even plants and animals. Even cats and cactus. Mother didn’t like cats and cactus. She liked conflicts and sadness. She liked to find reasons to be sad and there were always one or two or more. She loved Deep but that was not important. Other things are more important when love and food is available. No person is the exception of this rule except god or saints (if there are any). So that was a small biography of how Deep spend his cute childhood. It excluded many important details about his schedule and eating habits during that time. And the first girl he fell for. The person he wanted to become. For the truth stands between the garbage of thinking and doing. Let it be there. Lets move on.

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Neel

Name – Neel Ganguli Age – 23 Education – pursuing Bachelors of Arts Relationship status – separated Occupation – unemployed

He loved her. He didn’t know why. There was no reason if he would look for that. But he didn’t have time. He had to buy roses and talk to her and to make plans to impress her more. That was the usual trick for the unusual girl. He didn’t know though about her unusual angle. There had to be some if she was so attractive to him. He was sure about that. Neel was sure that Reena was made for him and that he just had to prove himself and for this proving he is ready to go to anywhere and to cross all the limits of mental and physical world. There was nothing more he could do except everything that he was trying. And there was no other way except all the ways that were possible. This wasn’t love for him. It was something else more than love and lust. It was more than madness and passion. The thing that had completely taken over his life in the past few years was an ordinary looking girl who worked in a cloth shop. He saw her in the hospital where he went due to the after-effects of a gas which had been leaked in the school chemistry lab. He saw her while returning and since then his love was growing like algae days and nights.

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Neel drew her face on everything that he found worth drawing on. Even his own hands and legs. He tattooed her name on his palm and started calling every girl by her name to prove his unfortunate fidelity and to show his love. He wrote countless poems and songs to give her the appreciation, she deserved. He tried to call her 50 times a day until social obligation and her anger stopped him from doing so. He could be seen waiting by the window of his room, waiting for the only love of his life to notice him just once. It could make his entire day worthwhile. She did sometimes but with pitiful and hating eyes. He was good-looking (so much that the girl was a mismatch for him) too and he had the ability to feed a family but that wasn’t the problem. Problem was his love. No one on this world could bear such intense and tight emotion. His octopus love was just making her scared. He loved every drop and hair of her body. He could talk and see her all the time without getting tired. So much that it didn’t seemed like love. It was something else. She couldn’t handle him. This was too much emotional dependence to endure. Reena tried once and she was so happy on her beautiful fate of finding such a great lover. But it was much greater than she expected and desired. Neel scared her by beating a boy who was looking at her for more than four seconds. Next time Neel gifted her diamond ring bought from the money of his father's stolen car. Reena tried to slow him down and in answer he forcefully took her to his house and locked her in his room for a whole day until neighbors came home after listening to her shrieking and shouting. That was the end of their relationship but he wasn’t ready to let her go. No chance. He still called her everyday and was following her everywhere. Neel cried numerous times in front of her even begged her and requested. All the things he could to get her back. Nothing seemed to be working. He threatened her and scared her more. He hit her sometimes. He hurt himself by writing her name on his chest with a blade. It was old Indian trick that wasn’t appropriate for this situation. It was shown in a hindi movie too but to terrify the audience instead. Neel requested her father and mother to favor him with their girl. He convinced his parents too and tried to use the old arrange marriage trick which was still the most famous way to marry the girl of choice in country. If only life is this easy. His mother went to the neighbor’s house but to warn them to keep their daughter in limits and to bash Reena for using black magic to seduce her son. It cut out all the chances of makeup. He developed an imaginary perfect world where he was living with Reena and their children and a nice house. Where he could touch, feel and love her anytime he wanted to without asking for anyone's permission. Where she was only for him and they were the only motive of each-other's life. Where he could bring the vegetables at evenings and Reena waited for his arrival. It was necessary to create all this Air-castles or his feelings for her would have thrown

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him into irreversible madness. He knew that it wasn’t real in his heart but it was keeping him alive. It was purposeful. One day a man came to her house who introduced him as a biologist working for government. He asked for a few minutes of Neel. Neel didn’t want to be disturbed but he stepped out of his world when the man told him that it was very urgent and could help him with Reena. How could neel let him wait now? In two seconds that man had all the attention Neel could gather. Man knew everything about Neel and according to him it all was related with the accident that had happened to Neel when he was in school. Though, Neel knew that but he wasn’t ready to believe it. It was his whole sence of self and the whole sole purpose of his life, love for that girl. How could he trust that a gas caused it all. He told the man politely to leave his room at once and that he never wanted to see him again. His life was one and only Reena. Accident or no accident. Together or not together. Peacefully or violently. Smooth or rough. Even if she didn’t love him or like him back. Even if she hated him. It wasn’t about her. It was about him. She was something to achieve. Like a prize or job. He wanted her so bad and he would get her, that he knew. Simple. Even if he got to write poems for that or threaten her. She had no chance in the world to escape him. She and he and he and she and he. That was it.

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Kamal

Name – Kamal Prakash Age – 23 Education – Schooling Occupation – worked in a grocery store Hobbies – unknown Marital status - single kamal A busy traffic day and everyone was angry and frustrated with there lives. Now everyone was getting late for nothing. Didn’t matter even if they would reach earlier. Didn’t matter if they wouldn’t reach at all. Crowd on wheels was depressed with the little things. This was common so they were happy about being sad. This was the way of life. Just didn’t think about being in depression sadness and anger or you would be more depressed sad and angry. Just follow the people in front of you. And they would take you to your destiny. This is the prime rule. Our guy was on his motorcycle when another car from the back hit it from the back. Now that was a really bad situation. Messing with a 17th batch arts student on a hot sweaty day wasn’t such a good idea. But the man in the car didn’t know Kamal. Kamal looked really innocent by face. With a hair style of IITians and spectacles on eyes. Motorcycle was splendor on that which was matching the style of rider as it was the trademark of simplicity which meant business only. No show-off. Strange how people are fooled by simplicity sometimes. Kamal looked at the driver in disbelief. Driver came out of the car and started shouting on Kamal for stopping his bike on inappropriate place. There were around 100 people watching this wonderful event, where they could enjoy the fighting and might even participate. Traffic stopped completely now because this fight was more interesting than offices and schools. But this was not fighting exactly because it was just one way. Like a man shouting on the wall because Kamal was still standing there watching this man and thinking about some distant thought of some other place or time. People were boosting him to fight. Blaming on other man and continuously blowing the horn of their cars and scooters. They wanted a scene but what happen next was enough to terrify them for the rest of their lives. Man wasn’t satisfied enough with the curses and shouts so he came in the front and took out the key of Kamal and threw them on side. Kamal stabbed the driver 12 times before picking up the keys again. Time had been stopped. Road emptied in few minutes after that without need of any help. There was only a dead body on the road right now. With three stabs in stomach, two on the eyes, two over the neck and rest over the other parts of the body.

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Police came after half an hour and did some regular investigation they supposed to do. Someone has seen the number of the bike in a nearby shop. With his help police reached Kamal and told him that they came to arrest him. He killed another policeman who was trying to grab his hands and rest jumped on him to control the situation. They unarmed Kamal by taking his knife. Damn, he was too strong. Kamal bite on the neck of another policeman and didn’t opened his jaw until something hit his head hard. While being pushed to the police van he was saying 'do, do' continuously. It was nice because he was quite in the van without any movement. Even his facial expressions were like a new born who was unable to understand anything. No one could say that he had killed a driver and a police-man today. No one could say anything for sure about anyone of those. Police took him to the station by taking great caution that nothing dangerous should have been in the reach of Kamal. Everyone was scared of him because he was scared of nothing. He told police after sometime that he was hungry. They behaved like they heard nothing. They didn’t know how to take him out of the van in the first place. So they told him to come out and he did. They told him to go inside the bars and he obeyed. They were playing with a beast. Touch him and you would die. He went inside, drank water from surahi. Sit right there below and closed his eyes. They shift him to another place next day because he killed two more guys in the next five hours. Trial didn’t take long and he got death penalty for blah blah murder killing blah blah.... His mother was there to look at him while so many scared gunmen were talking him to the jail. Judge told them to shoot him on any wrong move. As if he cared. Mother touched him on the face and started crying. The calmest person on the whole court was Kamal. He was kept in a close box like room with no lights and fresh air. The only thing that could enter there were thoughts. But Kamal didn’t seem to have any. He was just looking for something to drink and eat sometime and sometimes just put his fingers into the holes of the walls to feel the light coming from outside. He wasn’t thinking about bars and ropes. He fancied about a cycle which he saw while coming here. Green colored shiny cycle. Nice and clean. Wish if there would be some food and that cycle. Nothing much he needed. He didn’t know that he was going to die. He didn’t know what dying was. He didn’t try to understand why everyone was in a hurry and urgency to do something about him. Why everyone got a strange face and different clothes and

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uniform? What were they doing here or anywhere else? Where would be that green cycle right now? Where would be that bottle of cold water? Then questions stopped suddenly and he became as blank as a river stone. There was a sound. His polythene of soup and bread was thrown inside. No one had sympathy with him here. He killed a policeman after-all. No one had the sympathy with anyone here anyway. Night was as good as day and all seasons were black and white. Nothing new for Kamal. Next day another police-man found lifeless outside the Kamal's cell. Keys were still in the pocket. Kamal didn’t steal those. He just killed the policeman but didn’t show any smartness. Nice boy.

Sana Mother of Sana : She was a nice girl anyway. Father of Sana : I don’t want her working in that dump. Mother of Sana : That's not a dump. That is art. Father of Sana : You think so? Is this respectful work? Working in a poster factory? Mother : Yes, it is if she likes it. Father : It is you behind all this. I want that posters out of this house right now. Mother : What is wrong with these? She is doing a good job. Father : This is not something for decent people. Making movie posters. Mother : Let her decide that. Father : And besides that she doesn't even make decent posters. Mother : Now what do you mean by that. Father : I mean she cannot go any further. Her posters are as tasteless as her. Mother : Now that is not fair. Using tactics to prove your point. Father : I am not using tactics. This is the truth. Have you ever seen the things she prepares?

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Mother : Yes, I have. Aren’t those beautiful? Father : Yes, as beautiful as your stomach. Mother : My goodness. What are you trying to say? Father : She is wasting her time in this. This shouldn't be much encouraged more than a hobby. Mother : Have you seen the poster of that new album ‘lagbhag’ which she prepared. It is awesome. Father : Yes, I did. I almost got a headache after I saw that. It wasn't looking like a poster of a romantic-comedy music album. It was looking like a poster of some magic show. Mother : Maybe she intentionally tried to give it a hint of mystery to attract attention. Father : That is not a hint. She changed the entire face of the theme of album. So beautiful songs this album has. (singing) Come back in my life and kiss me alive again... yee... do this anyway.. o comeback.. anyway, She destroyed the whole concept as if something else was running in her mind or she mistakenly did that. Although, this mistake is too big to be taken as just a mistake. Mother : You don't have to judge my daughter. She knows what she is doing and she must have seen some reason behind this. If you are unable to see that reason then this is not her fault. Few people just don't have that sight. Father : This is not a way to talk to your husband. Mother : But I am right. You can take rolls-royce for a car any-day. Father : Rolls-royce is a car. Mother : It is ninety-nine percent more than that. Father : That is not my point. And besides that she is not just making ordinary posters. Mother : Yes and neither is she making bombs in there, you know. She is making money. Father : She is not making money. She is making coins. Mother : So what if they pay less. At-least she is doing what she want to do. And she must get a raise with time. Father : (show her something from his pocket) and what would you say about this? Mother : (open the folded poster and her eyes opened wide before she see in another direction, hesitantly) hmmm. What about this? Work is work. Father : Work is work? Making posters of B-grade pornographic movies? Mother : this is the part of the business. Father : What do you want to teach her? Is this why I spend so much money on her education? So she would work like this? Mother : You are over-reacting. Father : So, everything is okay with you. Even if she would start working in movies like this. Mother : Don't say bad about your own daughter. She is maintaining her dignity well. She knows her limits. Father : And what else? I don't feel like watching this movie after seeing this poster. Even I am feeling like not to watch this movie. Mother : Haha, that is funny. You can't judge it. What do you know about advertisements. Father : Just look at the man and woman in the posters. They aren't looking like making love. They looks like indulged in some kind of sacred ritual.

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Mother : Now you say it. Stop thinking about her job and concentrate on more important matters. Like repairing the car and maintaining the garden. Today is Sunday. Forget? Father : You didn't raise her well. I handed her to an over-liberated mother. Mother : Don't call me that. Ask her who serves her food and guidance in every field of life. Father : Sana would say your name. It is you behind misleading her. Mother : Yes, I told her to make such posters. Are you happy now? Father : God knows what she does all the day. Going to silly places and doing silly things. Mother : Now, what about that? Father : My friend saw her yesterday, in a club fighting with the bartender for another drink. Mother : Your friend or you yourself? Father : I am not a liar like you and your daughter. If I had seen her then she would sleep outside yesterday. I am not lying. Mother : I doubt it. As I have known you for 25 years. Father : No, you don't know me. If you have known me then you would know how I would prefer my daughter to behave. Sana : (enters the room) what are you two fighting about? Father : What is this? (Show her the poster) Sana : Can't you see yourself? Father : I want an explanation. Sana : I am hungry. Give me some food, somebody. Father : you are not going to make posters like this anymore. Sana : I didn't make it for you. Father : This is not what you are going to do anymore. Do you hear me or not? Sana : Ok. Father : And what is on your lips? Sana : This is piercing. Mother : Don't say anything to her right now. She must be tired. Father : Who told her to work on Sunday. Why doesn’t she ask for a holyday and spend time with us? Mother : She must be tired. Sana : I am not tired at all. I am just hungry. Father : And what you did with the advertisement of such a beautiful music album? It was a pity that even a thumb-licking retard could have thrown some romance on the paper. Sana : They liked my work. It is off for the printing. Father : What kind of people you are working for? Everyone is blind there. Sana : They are good people and appreciate my work. Father : Did you listened the songs before making that advertisement? Sana : No, why would I do that? Father : I listened to the songs. So romantic and touching songs were those. Sana : So you go inside my room anytime like it is your own? Father : It is my own. This is my house and I am paying the bills. Sana : No, I am earning too.

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Father : Your salary can’t feed a rat. This house is mine and everything belongs to me. If a dog comes inside the house then he has to pay respect to me because it is standing on my floor. Daughter : I am hungry. Father : (to mother) see, what I told. She didn't even listened to the songs. Mother : She is just tired. Sana : I am not tired. Father : When I meet my friends. I say that my daughter is a poster-maker. Sana : You should be happy that I am not a sweeper. Father : (picks up a glass bottle and break it by throwing on the ground) sana : I am tired. Mother : Let me give you some food. You must be hungry. Sana : No, I am not hungry. Father : Mix poison in her food. That would be a good lesson for her. Sana : But I am not hungry yet. I would eat that later. Mother : Don't say bad things. You know nothing about painting. Father : I know what rolls-royce is. Okay? Mother : She seems hungry and tired. Sana : For god sake. Father : You are a shame to your family. Mother : She is just stupid. Father : (to mother) you are the reason. You teach her to make posters without listening to the songs. I would never do anything without doing something else first. There are always two steps for the completion of each work. Mother : I listened to the songs also. Those are good mysterious songs. Father : Romantic. Sana : Sad songs. Mother : Mystery. Father : They are not making love. They are like doing something else. Like they are just clutching each-other for accusation. Sana : Work is work. Father : You don't know anything. You only make random lines with no romance. Sana : This is my work. Father : Work, my ass. You just wear pencils and brush on your feet and walk over the blank paper. Sana : But I do that seldom. Father : (to mother) see, what I told you. Mother : You shouldn't walk with brush and pencils on your feet. Those would get blunt. Daughter : I like that. To listen to songs. Father : See what I told you. Now she is accusing me of a lie. Mother : Don't do this, Sana. Sana : But I secretly hates him. Mother : But he is paying the bills. Father : Dog should pay the respect. It is standing on my property.

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Mother : You don't have a right to say this. You may mistake a ford for a rolls-royce. Father : But it is a dog only. Mother : But it is not our pet dog. It is a stray dog. Sana : I love you father. Father : I love you mother. Mother : You like some food? Father : Poster. Sana : Poster. Mother : Food.

Sanjay

Name – Sanjay Purohit Age - 23 Education – pursuing Masters of Business Administration Marital status – Married Occupation – staff supervisor at PUROHITS. Sanjay Purohit was working in a factory when his father found him. Strange thing was that this factory belonged to the Purohit’s family itself. Owned by sanjay's uncle, right now it was situated on the left wing of the whole empire. It was an old plastic profitable factory which was the proud of the Purohit's until now when they are watching their own son working as a labor in here. His father didn’t told anyone and get his son fired as a first step and summoned him to his office immediately. At the office, son refused to recognize his father. He was respecting this man but he wasn’t Sanjay's father according to Sanjay. Senior Purohit made two drinks. Sanjay gulped his with hesitation. Then father asked Sanjay if he was angry on something. Father told Sanjay that his every wish would be fulfilled if he went home straight because his mother was worried about him. And Sanjay was ready to go but he couldn’t recognize his father anyway.

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It didn’t happen overnight. Sanjay was like this since the last year of the school. A day when he come home and his rich blood lost all its richness. He had all the qualities to succeed the position of his father soon which was inherited from his grandfather. A long history of success and ruling in private sector. And now Sanjay was unable even to recognize the golden spoon he was born with. That could be bearable as most of rich kids are mood freaks but now he was even working in the factory as a labor. This was really bad for the reputation which had taken more than 100 years of Goodwill and prosperity. And Sanjay had his own stories of life now. His own silly concepts and theories. Someday he loved everyone and someday he forgot even his mother-father. Sometimes he came out of his room ready to take over the whole thing and sometimes he was absent like disappeared found in their own factory in rags working near the furnace. Sometimes his father found him on the gate of Purohit’s family home, talking with the watchmen about his another family (which didn’t even exist), where he got a father who worked in a shop and mother was a house-wife. He laughingly told the watchman that his mother was an unfaithful woman. Watchman didn’t comment on that because Sanjay's actual mother was unfaithful too. He dropped her many times on many suspicious places. But it wasn’t watchman's business to ask. His job was to serve only and if Sanjay wanted to brag here about his real or imaginary family so let it be. And then there was murmur in the house one day. Rumour was that Sanjay baba got a girl in his room. Rumour was true. Sanjay baba not only got a girl in his room but the girl was being raped by him for three days continuously. When the father heard about it, he made Sanjay free the girl immediately and tried to bribe the girl generously to keep her mouth shut. She wasn’t that easy so he threatened the girl. She was fearless. He requested one more time and got denied. She couldn’t be bought or threatened or buttered so there was only one remaining way. Her body and name vanished in a week of time. And he punished his son by cutting his weekly expanses. He couldn’t be so hard because Sanjay was so sensitive and important. One day servants of the house find Sanjay hiding in the garage. He was scared of something. And he told servants that it was around. They took him out and tie him to his bed, where he kept shouting some names, curses and strange-things. Though in normal days, he got a strict schedule for himself which he made for discipline because Sanjay liked living with a time-table. Break-fast after exercise and then going to yoga and then college and then to the office to supervise a small branch of the business to learn all the necessary skills. Some occasional outings with his friends. And on special days, he came out of his room in one of his greatest moods to do anything anyway anywhere. No one could dare stop him. No one could dare ask any question. Then he could be found on streets or on dope or working as a labor or loader in the factory or hanging from the tree right behind the house. He was happy in both the faces. Some psychiatrist told his father that it was multiple personality case. He was

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shown to the best professionals of medical and spiritual fields from father and mother respectively. But the gas which entered his mind in the lab was more powerful than all of them put together. Powerful and strange and unknown. His parents thought that they should have married him for it could make him more responsible and married life is considered as the only real life in India. People do everything just to marry a suitable partner here. And when you are the only son of a great industrialist then there would be no lack of interested girls even if you are half nuts. He pushed into marriage with the daughter of a family friend who was lesser in money but equal in bloodline. Friend’s daughter was princess by mind and attitude. Her name was Kiran. She was moderately beautiful and high on trends. Too much fashionable. She didn’t care how much the size of the cloth if it could get her noticed at parties. Sanjay liked sleeping with her but he was too busy in his own world. She never gave it a thought if her husband was eating caviar or cigarette ash. Sanjay never bothered if Kiran was going-out in pillow-cover or nude. Though she loved Sanjay but in her own way. He was like a child to her. She always found him entertaining and didn’t know how he came to be like this. She laughed once when Sanjay slapped her without anger because it was the first slap of her life and she found it amusing and entertaining. She slapped him back and laughed at her action. They were living like two roommates instead of married couple. But He continued to make up fake stories about his second family and another lifestyle. Now he even had a wife in imaginary world. Her name was Shanti and she was so lazy. Kiran didn’t mind at all. For one thing that she knew after talking to the watchmen that these stories were not true. Secondly, she was enjoying every bit of her husband's mind-set. She felt like a little girl again in his company, which she had lost long ago. She even started boosting him to do things which she considered would be funny. She made him threw water on a servant from staircase, breaking the windshield of his father's BMW and to hit a bicycler on road before speeding up. He could do anything. So life was great. He found a perfect partner who could understand him. She found a perfect partner with whom the life was interesting. Sanjay wasn’t what she was expecting before marriage. He wasn’t a regular busy industrialist. But he was unpredictable and she knew that when she found herself locked inside a car and he was laughing outside looking at her with keys in his hands. Sanjay opened the door after 5 hours and Kiran vomited with suffocation like the royal she was. He was too extreme and heartless sometimes. But they developed love for each other without even noticing that. And they were a happy couple incredibly. She was pregnant after sometime and one day Sanjay found her crying because she was missing him while he was out. She hugged him and refused to let go. He told her that they should have been making-love so they did. She stopped going to parties and outings. She stopped meeting her friends and wearing revealing clothes. She started collecting toys in a corner room room for her coming child. She painted the room blue and put the bed on the north for sake of Vastu.

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Kiran started waiting for him per day and calling him all the time. He was more stable now. They went to the first honeymoon on her third month. Sanjay went hysteric on the plane and started banging on the windows and door. Crew had to give him sedatives and they were thrown out at the next stop. So what? They were enjoying every moment of the journey. Couple was smiling on its way out. Sanjay pushed her and she pushed him back. A taxi driver reached them and asked for the destination. They told him to get them to a fine hotel with a nice view. He did. In the way to the hotel she insulted him by saying that he was nothing without his father's support. So to prove her wrong he threw her wallet and cell-phone outside. She had to use her money to check inside the hotel. It wasn’t a pleasant situation but she couldn’t take her words back because she wanted to see what he would do now and she was as stubborn as him. He went out at the next morning without telling anything to her and came back with pockets full of 100 rupee notes which were earned according to his words. She didn’t want to stretch this topic long so there were no further arguments. They made love to make up. Then they went to sight-seeing, which included villages and amusement park. They rented a car and smashed it on a wall intentionally at 9 o clock of evening. They knew how to use the money in the way they wanted to. Sanjay drank so much at night to tease her. She drank so much to take the revenge. They were made for each other. The taxi driver who dropped them at the hotel came back to return the wallet of Sanjay which got 15000 rupee, a cheque, two dotted condoms, a love-letter (which he had written to a girl during schools but never passed) and two gold coins. Sanjay asked taxi-driver, why these things couldn’t tempt him. Taxi driver told him that he did feel the temptation and that he used 25 rupee from Sanjay's wallet to buy a bottle of liquor. Sanjay offered him a job which was happily accepted. No one knows from where Sanjay earned the money that day except the person whom he looted a few kilometers away from the hotel with the help of a kitchen knife. Trip was a success and they kept talking about it on the way back. Taxi-driver was with them enjoying the hospitality of the business class. ‘I am feeling like cutting myself,’ Sanjay told his wife. ‘This is not the solution,’ wife told him. ‘You mean I should do more than that,’ Sanjay asked. ‘A lot more, darling.’ ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you too.’ ‘But why I am feeling like this.’ ‘Because you are getting bored.’ ‘I don’t think so, it is so intense. I felt like that before too.’ ‘Do one thing. Slap the airhostess. Then you would feel better.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because of releasing your anger or whatever the hell is there to release.’ ‘I am sorry to bother you. Okay, I am sorry. God knows, why I married you.’

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‘All-right, if you want to talk, we can talk. This is all we can do right now.’ ‘About what?’ ‘About yourself. You never told me about your past. I mean the times that made you.’ ‘You mean that I am some kind of special,’ Sanjay smiled. ‘For me you are,’ She smiled back. ‘Your talking makes me horny sometimes.’ ‘So tell me what happened maybe it may help. Okay, let me start, I got a boyfriend once and he left me and that changed my life completely. I become carefree because life lost its value and charm for me.’ ‘O, for god sake, how can you tell me about your boyfriend. I am your husband. Get some sence.’ ‘Just to divert your mind. I didn’t have any boyfriend. I mean there was a guy in the neighborhood who kissed me once. I was not a love freak until I fell in love with you.’ ‘When I was in the final year of the school my life changed and all the rules and thoughts and imaginations fucked the hell out of my mind.’ ‘Hold your tongue, Sanjay. Baby is listening us.’ ‘Ye-ye, I went to my childhood so I couldn’t control. You also say these things sometimes and he can listen to you louder. So don’t act goody-goody.’ ‘I don’t.’ ‘You do.’ ‘I don’t.’ ‘You do.’ ‘No.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘No, I don’t.’ ‘Yes, you do. Do do do do.’ ‘Naaa......’

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Atul

Name – Atul Age – 23 Education – graduate in English honors Relationship status – single Hobbies – reading, coloring (children drawing books) One and only Delhi metro was a nice means of transport. Especially, in this much heat and discomfort. This is not an easy life and that he knew since the age he had left his milk bottle and toys. But such insight wasn’t going to spare him all the pain and despair he was going to carry in the years to come. In his front was the ticket counter but he had a pass. Atul entered the checking counter with a slight trembling over his upper lip. This was his favorite part of all. High travelling fee of the metro was well worth it. With air-conditioners, punctuality and two male hands touching and feeling your body in search of dangerous objects. He didn’t have any. He felt tingling as the CRPF guard rubbed hands all over his clothes. Homosexuality was something that he regretted. He wished that he should have been like others. Perhaps due to the constant nagging of the society. But he couldn’t help but smile on seeing males around. So many different types. So beautiful and perfect with great bodies and organs. The kings of the world. Super-men. What would they do if all the females would disappear for an hour or so? That thought made him bite his thumb. Atul was standing because all the seats were already filled. He liked to travel in standing posture. He would be grateful if metro was highly crowded even to set a foot. Men were too giving, never being a miser to pass a smile or hand to a stranger. Life isn’t too bad until you are travelling, he thought. Thought he had his past and nights and blacks. He was still a virgin in twenties. One of the things that he regretted most was taking arts as major in school. It was the most stupid decision of his life, knowing about the nature of other kids taking arts. All of them were animals, who only cared about their next feast and fuck. They could swallow the whole world without a burp. Now he was marveling himself for surviving them. Did the fellow class-mates like Atul? Oww! Yeah… with the deep edges of their heart. They knew about Atul’s secret. The way Atul used to talk and walk, anyone could tell. His best friend Gyanesh left him because of this revelation. Someone might have puked in Gyanesh ears. Atul still craved for a friend like that. Yes, that was true in a way. Atul wanted to be more than a friend. But he didn’t want it to end up like that. Now he had no one with whom he could share everything and to spend money on. No one to save him from jokes and problems. Others liked him also but not as a friends but as a means of amusement. Atul was a great entertainment for the whole class. They used to clap on him whenever he entered in the class. They asked him shameless questions. How do you feel on watching Veena’s

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boobs? Would you get a hard on with a sight of penis? Sana put Atul’s hand on her soft thigh and asked him in front of everyone else, “What do you like?” They were laughing at him. He could bear the laughs and stupid questions. Next day when he returned from the canteen there was a pink bag on his seat and his bag was missing. All his books and pens were in pink bag, great. Many poisonous smiles in the class were waiting for Atul’s reaction. He was too good to do anything out of line. One of the smiles belonged to Gyaneesh, whom he loved more than anything. Many of the girls were sad also because they were more comfortable with Atul than any other boy. They felt safer in his company. Girls knew that they could touch, push and hug Atul without any risk of wrong impression. He wouldn’t bother even on seeing them nude and that nature was precious. He was a boy who could talk about clothes, nail-paint and soap-operas without getting bored. A boy with female tenderness and blue eyes was hard to find. His hobbies and passions were alike. He was fond of dreams, butterflies and talking enthusiastically about small things. On some occasions it made them angry also that he had no interest in anyone of them sexually but that only adds to the his character. Mind doesn’t take everything logically. Mind can feel cold in summer and hot in winter. Mind can make you cry with joy and laugh with loss. Control it and get rewarded. Love it and get hated. People may come near you for a motive or may come without, don’t think about it. Don’t think too much or it would blow your mind. Yes world is mean and meaner and meanest. Good and better than the best. It is all the ways you can imagine and cannot. Life is not easy. Atul smiled back. It was one of those smiles. When someone accepts his defeat and relax with his destiny. When lips curl without much effort and care. Things could be worst. Atul wanted to punch the boy with love and hate. On their chests. Especially, that Kamal. There was something macho about Kamal which made Atul lust for him. Kamal was too serious kind of a person. He never made jokes on Atul but he never even talked to Atul. What a shame? He was getting hard at such a disgraceful moment. Now he knew the power of this desire. It could make him do anything. It could make him lift all the laughter and insults on his slightly slant shoulders. This desire was becoming a curse for him. He almost forgot about the whole class and the situation. This pink bag is beautiful, Atul thought, damn. “Like the present,” one of the bastards asked. “Sure, it was great,” Atul answered while churning his teeth. It was amazing how much one can take. The unlimited capacity of a person to survive lonely between dirt and showing teeth to the evil that the hopes are still remaining. It was impossible for Atul to show anger. For him it was full of hatred and satanic to show such extreme emotions. “You are a girl living in a wrong body,” Sana said. He didn’t know how to control anger. He didn’t have any anger actually. Only a sadness that he couldn’t fit in this strange world. He did try many times to caught boys attention. He did things that boys like. But he wasn’t lucky enough to find another like natured. He tried internet also and no one

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wanted to talk to a boy there. He changed his identity as a girl but as soon as people knew that he was a gay actually, they felt cheated and it made them angry. Relatives stop sending their kids to his home. Chairmen of the society told Atul’s mother to control him. Atul’s room looked different from any other room. There was a poster of Arnold Schwarzenegger and newspapers on the wall. There was no door in his room. It was situated at the tip of the stairs. Means one had to cross his room before going to the roof. So he had almost no privacy. Masturbation before sleep was one of the few things he enjoyed. Puneet was another close friend that he made. But Atul was scared to take this friendship to the next level. That wasn’t happening. He didn’t have that much courage this time. He couldn’t risk being alone. Besides, Puneet was a straight clearly and didn’t even know that some other kinds existed on the planet. Atul was keen to reading articles about likeminded in newspapers and magazines. It gave him a sense that he was not the only one. It confirmed the fact that he was not insane or unique or perhaps all of them were a bunch of funny people with different taste. There were gays protest and rallies and so many events taking place to fight for the right. They should have opened a gay sex bar instead or a gay strip club. And they should write gay fiction or make gay sex-clips and MMS. His parents called him one day and asked him about “plans”. Atul didn’t have any “plans”. “What do you mean?” Atul asked. “You are a big boy now. What do you want to do with your life?” “What should I do? A job?” he asked and both his parents looked at each-others with grim expressions. “Why don’t you have some fun? Go around and talk to the people. There is so much going on in the world. Be a part of it. You would feel good and worthy,” father told him. He is amazing, Atul thought. “I want to do a job.” They never called him to advise again. Atul didn’t go to the chemistry lab that day because his nose was itching. Something was stopping him to go for lab tour. And it was not an important task so he skipped. Itching over the nose couldn’t be ignored. You are better at catching omens in solitude. When there is no one else to disturb you except a painful loneliness or calm. Now all he needed was an excuse to make it reasonable. He went to the music room to see the little kids preparing for the next function that was going to take place in a few weeks. How nice? Music teacher asked him why he wasn’t in his class attending lectures so he left. Half the time was passed. He went straight to classroom, picked his things and started making a list of places he could visit inside the school area. Library, canteen, stationary counter etc. After half an hour Atul was standing right out of the glass door of chemistry lab near fire-extinguisher with that gifted pink bag over the shoulders, when he saw ghost over the faces inside the lab. Atul was the only witness who didn’t inhaled that gas. Others were falling with no one to hold. His mind flashed all the pictures of the past in a second. He looked at the time in his wrist-watch. Lab-tour was over and itch over

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the nose was gone. Atul didn’t call for help or anything. He walked away from there in slow measured steps. His parents transferred to Mumbai after a short-while. It was only after coming back to Delhi, did he know the whole story. Atul saw a girl like Veena sitting over the footpath and scratching her hairs. He wanted to ask her if she was Veena but he didn’t because woman looked at him and laughed. It was not the same laugh as they had back then in school. It was a different one. A laugh that belonged to the asylum. He ran away without looking back once. He could still hear that noise. The worst noise of the world. Now he was a translator for a children comic book and was living with another of the co-worker in a shared flat. Coworker never asked and discussed about Atul’s orientation. He was over-liberated Anglo-Indian type. Though, Atul was stressed by the telephone conversations of co-worker with his girlfriends. His parents were pushing him for marriage and that sent spiders down in his stomach and below. Could he fuck a girl pretending it was a man? Now in the metro he filled with disgust as he saw a pretty girl and imagined intercourse with her. Atul immediately shifted his eyes to a guy sitting in front of him reading a paperback. Atul always liked serious kind of people. But now he was too desperate for choices. Whole world had become unisexual for him and other things were gone. He always enjoyed the pushing and pulling as the door opened. Living your life on small pleasures require talent. A boy in blue t-shirt looked at Atul and said something in his friend’s ears. Atul waved at that blue t-shirt boy. He didn’t know anger. Blue t-shirt boy was cute. 4rth page from the diary There are things. Black things. White things. Small things, large things. If there is a thing then don’t be sure. If there is a thought. Then you can be sure. Because thoughts are thoughts. And thoughts are inside. If there is a toy then the toy is a toy and toy was a toy too and toy is to toy would toy it. Please don’t tell me. Please don’t tell me. Colorful toys and transparent flexible toys. Watery-snowy-crystal toys and wooden plastic ones. Colored ones are broken and watery snowy are melting. It is safe that way. It is what should happen so no one was crying except the child. Fans rotate when no one seems to notice and everyone notice when fans stop. Fans shouldn’t stop. Fans are the lifeline of the grasses and skies. Grasses and skies form something that is different from the rest of the toys. Grasses and skies should be prayed inside the room with hundreds lock and thousands of people. Grasses are the lifeline and skies are colorful. Together these form colored lives. It is mathematics and chemistry only which is in the core of all the activities living or imaginable. People who meet the needs of chemistry and keep up with mathematics are happier than the animals of toys. Animals of toys know how to fuck without closing there eyes. That is why children of animals of toys born with a decimal. You should grab the opportunity and jump on it at sight whenever encountering a colored toy. Because rainbows are colorless these days. These were using alcohol and cigarette to make it sing again. But the wires are broken now. And grass and skies like those who sing the wire songs. Wireless songs are liked by toys only because toys are

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wireless these days. Not only that the naked body was walking on the grass but due to that all the crowd was running after it. The only one left was the person in the front who wanted to throw mud at it. Mudding the things is not possible. Because crowd may left you alone. Then you got no choice but to throw more mud. And he was eating mud and body with coconut oil and black pepper. It is not bad. Nothing is not bad. Bad is good. Only good is bad. Lights are out and black is in. And everyone is going inside. This is a red alarm for all the people who were inside and outside to come out of their places and kill each other. Then only the grass would be left. Pure green grass with dew drops and a hint of sky on the curves going down. From here the milk would come out. Milk which has formed the blood. Blood which has formed bloody fools. There was nothing that bloody fools don’t know. That is why, they proved that it was great to drink milk before the dinner and after the lunch. People are busy in each other during lunch too. They were keeping the speed. They are taking orders. They are doing whatever they can to open the doors and windows so all the animals of toys can come inside and outside to have fun. It is necessary to do this because it is the order of the government. Because government wants to throw the animals outside with lots of beer and alcohol. And then at a night, I dream about a girl who wants to dance. I don’t allow her because I am jealous. I love her so much and drink alcohol to forget her. Anyway, it is only a dream so I am drunk when I wake up the next morning. People keep asking me about my secret. I always tell them about a girl who wanted to kiss me. I am still drunk after four days and still drunk after seven days. It is amazing because I never felt this much power and determination. So I think that I would make it possible somehow. There were 1000 ways to do it and I choose 1001th way. It is great and rainbow because it is colorful. But the girl still wants to dance and I am still drunk so we eat all the time and space. It is simple biology. Where is your mind? When I get close to her then I find out that it is not a dream and now I am happy. Happy. Nothing can change my mood except a pair of hot boiled fishes. Who likes boiled fishes and lobsters? Who likes pizza and pearl? Who wants to go here and there? Who is the one listening to me? One should listen to me attentively because of what I am telling here are the ultimate rules of biology and mathematics. This is art. This is party. This is universe. Grass and skies are the only reason to celebrate. Other reasons are between those. There shouldn’t be much to discuss and do anyway because all would go to abyss sooner or later. They aren’t moving there legs actually but they want to go into the abyss and tell everyone that they are here now so it continues and people keep following because no one have any other choice. Piss on the toilet or piss on the floor but one has to piss ultimately. And all the piss would go to the abyss like mud, water, grass and skies. Do it and you are it. Abandon it and you are it. Dance it and you are it. Rain it and you are it. It is your ground.

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Posters There were posters around the whole city today and people were shouting and calling each other, telling about this mess. Kids were on unofficial holyday due to these situations. Parents didn’t force nobody. There were thousands of posters. And there were different matters on these. People were extreme because of these pieces of papers. They were reading these everywhere. Children were reading these, adults were reading these, teachers were reading, students were reading, doctors, engineers, drivers, officers and everyone. Newspapers were absent today for unknown reasons. Weekly magazines were absent. There was nothing to satisfy the morning hunger of reading except these posters. And people were really excited because these were different from each other and everyone was reading these with curiosity. Posters were of different colors. Orange, green, red and white, pink, black and magenta, purple, green etc. Paper of the posters was high quality which kids and architects use in projects and charts. It wasn’t usual kite paper. Meant that lots of money was involved in this madness. Lots of money and lots of people because not one person could create such a huge spread in the short time of one single night. There were things written on the posters and over many were pictures and photographs. There were photographs of circles that were circular in strange square-curvy way which was producing stress in mind if someone would look at it for more than a few seconds with interest. And there were many other shapes on many other posters. Irregular shapes of polygon-hexagon, unknown unseen animals which were bonded and separated from one another in a violent manner. Horrible-terrible graphics which could have been a good inspiration for science fiction movies. On some papers there were only dots, big and small, joined with one another in an unusual fashion which was irritating people because of its complexity and some strange kind of attraction. It was more than the common interest of people which was bounding them to involve in this senseless activity. Sometimes animals over the posters seemed to be moving and children were so excited watching these. Some charts were blank deliberately as if someone wanted to give a break for thoughts to settle down and prepare for new dimensions. Posters were flying in the sky due to the air at some places. Posters were on walls and schools and homes and roads, streets shops. Police were out everywhere in few minutes after

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getting this breaking news. All the television channels were showing people the contents of the sheets and hyping the whole matter hundred-thousand times, blaming it on neighbor country and local gangs or perhaps wicked propaganda of some political party. Municipal Corporation was worried because it was their responsibility to keep the city clean and it was going to be so hard now. Thought, they could earn the money by selling too much of quality paper but it was secondary. First they had to go through this situation which was barely behind being a national red-alert. All the workers were in action and collecting the posters one by one. Sometimes they stopped to take a look at it. Those were interesting indeed but cleaning the city was more important. There were clouds over the sky and if it would be raining before all these sorted out then it would be bad-luck because severs couldn’t endure so much dump. They didn’t want to call it dump. It was so artistic. These papers. Sad that they had to remove these. One of the cleaners tried to take a poster from a busy reader and it resulted in a fight which cost the reader a broken nose because hands of the cleaner were really hard. Things were really getting hotter. Police started investigating and asking every poster-maker to discover the truth. Even beating some low profile poster-makers after summoning them to the police station. Still nobody knew who was behind all this. It was more than a joke now. It was intentional but nobody could guess the exact intention behind this craziness. There were jumble words in the newly found posters around central Delhi. Jumble words and one-liners. One-liners and revelations. Revelations and threats. threats and poems. Poems and slogans. There wasn’t a person in the city who wasn’t excited or scared. Nobody heard or thought that anything like that could happen. And all of it seemed like a dream. Words on the paper were - Mouth. Mad. Grow. Storm. Claw. Duster. Face. Cloth. Gas. Etc. Some of the words were more extreme like- kill. Betray. Change (people hate this word more than any other one). Cut. Poison. Rape. Hell. Heart. One liners were :- someone is watching you, things are straight, hocus-pokus, triple makes a one, princess at night (there was a picture of nude princess below it), wooden trees cry more, hell of a stranger, gross roads are everywhere, etc. Police had to force people to send them to their businesses. It was harder than it seemed because all the roads were blocked with traffic-jams, people and janitors. Everyone was busy in useless reading and looking at this craziness. It was a new color of the city revealing itself. Psychology of the place seemed to be changed in one night. Nobody wanted to know anything or to go anywhere. They were like children stuck to watch the toys. One could see anything at that time. They were prepared for any magic or disaster now. If this could happen anything could happen. There could be a flying elephant nearby waiting to be seen (who knows).

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And it was not enough. Far away a person fell down while reading the matter of the poster. And it wouldn’t stop with him. People started falling like wet cloths or something. Doctors, engineers and mechanics fell down. Teachers, students and house wives. Office workers (who hadn’t reached offices yet and wouldn’t now). Share brokers. Shop-keepers. People who were lazy and sleepy were still sleeping or watching television. Rest had been fallen down. All who were outside and reading the posters. Some janitors and boring people who were less curious than others and who were workaholics remained standing. Now they were really happy for their quality of being bore and uncurious whole life. They were proud of themselves. They were laughing at others who were lying on the road helplessly. They were laughing at the people who had laughed at them everyday. Every dog has its day. But the whole city was stopped because police, leaders and all the major movers and shakers who ran the city were still near posters with eyes closed and mouth opened. Many were in their cars and others were in their offices. One common thing was that posters were everywhere now and no one to handle those things except a few bore and incurious workaholics. They were bored too much with this paper work and they decided to go back home because everyone was sleeping inside and outside the offices and tea shops. So they went home to watch television. It didn’t bother them much that so many people were sleeping. Body needs rest sometimes. And a normal person can get sleepy anytime. This is normal. All is normal. Posters on the streets were normal and police man lying near the water sewer was normal. A jeep on its head with four people inside was normal. Flying elephant and Santa was normal. People in the jails and hostels were awake. They weren’t lucky enough to get posters. They were having fun. They went outside somehow and started jumping and shouting. They kicked police officers and teachers. They kicked dogs. They kissed and molested girls. They jumped on the sleeping people to offend them. And some of those read the posters and started sleeping to join the club. It was the content that was making everybody sleep. Not any substance, pollution or tiredness, some intelligent awake people suspected. Then they showed more intelligence and tied clothes on their eyes and noses. And they went to their rooms and closed all the windows and doors. They threw the phones on the floors and they decided to be there for the rest of their lives. Genius. Thought, it was hard because they felt pee right after this great decision. Decisions are easy but living those decisions is hard. They felt hungry, thirsty and horny. They wanted to eat chicken-rice and cream delight for the first time. They felt like walking, running, driving, throwing, dancing and all the other things which had no hope in their rooms. It was strong desire that made them cry and they started praying to the God with both hands toward sky. Some started laughing. They weren’t intelligent anymore. They joined the crowd without falling asleep. Small children were playing on their curious mothers. And curious fathers were on the offices and roads. Curious girls were laying on curious boys and vice-versa. It seemed like

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dogs are boring and stupid sometimes but right at the moment some dogs were sleeping too. God knows that these slept with instinct or reading. Who cares? It was normal. Many people got killed in this paper problem. Now it was a national issue but only a few members of parliament and prime-minister was awake to understand its seriousness. Prime-ministers don’t read posters. So many people were in the wheels of the busses whose drivers were enough curious to read strange posters while driving. People were dead and broken. Driver was sleeping. Sleeping while driving is against all the laws of humanity and constitution but the policemen were sleeping or dead too. And awaken intelligent people were inside their rooms sweating and chewing the cloths. Then raining started and all the sleepers woke-up. Some sleepers who were below the tires of buses and trains couldn’t wake up. But most of the sleepers were waking-up happily as from a nice dream. They started working with a new energy and freshness as if nothing had actually happened. Everyone wanted to remain ignorant by all this. Even police called the dumpsters and cranes to take away the waste and destruction it caused as soon as possible without trying to investigate further. There was winking and whispering as a signal to dump dead bodies along with the paper and other shit. Television news reporters went to report on lighter kind of other news which were more important for the progress of news channel like theft of an old painting and wedding preparations of a celebrity couple. Raining blocked the sewers but solved a major problem. And it wasn’t completely fair to call it a problem. It was only a sleep after all. Normal morning sleep. people shake their heads thinking about it. It must be something else. They might be overstressed or over-worked these days. Or the rainy weather or fast-food. Posters don’t make people sleepy. They rejected this idea. They might not have seen any posters today. Whatever. Intelligent people were still in their rooms hopeless, covered with sheets and cloths, prepared to see flying elephants. They were normal people and they liked normal things. They were usual in usual business. And they were famous to move on. So they moved on leaving behind remaining posters and dead bodies of few friends and dogs. Students were sad because teachers were awake now. And prisoners were happy because they were free now. Police was sad because of prisoners and posters. It is normal that people become happy and sad. It is part of life. Police beat some people and threw them in jail for a new start. Prisoners resumed their jobs. Hostellers went to sleep again because they felt tired and worthless. And some kilometers away a girly figure had a bag full of posters. Her work was finished because of the rain today. But the damage was done and so was his job. What was the use? Who cares. She had this big brown cheap bag with posters. She put the bag right there and went away slowly. Bag was wetting and colors of the posters were mixing-up with water. It made a strong combination. All the colors were making white. Strong white.

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Neena Name – Neena Dhavan Age – 23 Education – high school Marital status – single Occupation – unemployed Hobbies – none

She wasn’t moving. She was still from the day that accident happened in her life. She was lying on the bed and was still. Sometimes her cornea moved to look at the group photo with her classmates. It was impressive. She was a nice student during schools. Always jumping and cheerful. And always helpful to other students who were close to her (nothing new). So she was an average girl with some specialties to dance and draw (nothing special). One guy was after her too (hah). Then there were Neena’s girly things and all that usual stuff. she got nice pocket-money at that time too, which she used to spend on eating and buying clips, etc. Then one day a gas in the chemistry lab made her numb and immovable. All the doctors of the world were unable to discover the matter with her body. Body was perfect. Eyes and skin was perfect. Hairs were perfect. Nervous system seemed good. ECG-EEG were normal. Twenty thousand types of tests were saying that she was healthy. But she couldn’t move. She could listen and see but couldn’t speak. Jaws were numb. And she was looking like an awed girl all the time. Indeed she was. Awed that the photograph was little bending from one side. She didn’t like irregularity. Irregularity symbolizes laziness and uncivilized society. She wasn’t like that. And she wasn’t helpless and lazy. But Neena could make this photograph on a right place. So her aunt who was sitting near her and reading a women monthly magazine twitched on her chair. It was like some little revelation or spark like and she put down the

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magazine and got up and put a table below the photograph to rehang it correctly. After her job was done, she was back on her place reading magazine. Her aunt's name was Shanti and she was a widow with a son. She lived in this home to look after Neena. She got a shelter in this way because her in-laws had thrown her out of their house after her husband's death. Her son was in a school and he had a girlfriend at the age of 5. Though, he didn’t know the spelling of ‘girlfriend’. He wrote it like ‘girfrey’. His name was Tutu in the house and he got no one else to play with except Neena. He used to pull her hairs sometimes and put fingers in her eyes. It seemed to making Neena happy somehow. Atleast someone was there who needed her. And it was a boy (so what if this one is 12 years younger who didn’t know the actual use of a dick. she wished he knew). If only he was bigger and would penetrate her so she could experience how it actually feels like. She could love him easily. Loving a man was easier. Loving a man was lot easier than loving your parents or sister or in-laws etc. if only. Tutu was playing with her right now after coming from his school and telling her stories about how he made a mango and teacher give him a chocolate for the first prize. Oh! why don’t he understand adult things. Chocolate was tasty. He put chocolate on her mouth and started waiting for her to gulp it. Or rather he was only doing this to tease her with its smell and the imagination of its taste. Imagination is a horrible thing. And it is not easy to resist imagination. It is harder than resisting temptation. Thought, he had mercy for her retarded cousin so after sometime he took out that chocolate and eat it himself to finish this whole matter. Oo, how sweet he was. Sweeter than the candy itself. Boy was tempting her more than the chocolate. She wanted to hug and love him. She wished he would kiss her right now and he did. Her mother told him not to disturb Neena. Stupid bitch. Shanti deserved a punishment. And her aunt moved from her place again and was trying to touch her ears from her toes. Toes were clean but ears were far. Tutu was laughing at her mother activity. Neena's face was looking hard right now and her eyes were dreamy. Tutu looked at Neena and felt fear. It was child's instinct. But sometimes he was confused while sitting with Neena. The way Neena looked at the people and they started doing silly-funny things. It made no sense. Though he knew that Neena loved him but there was something creepy about that. Only the eyes were movable in her whole body but he felt sometimes that whole room was speaking her language only. Like she was present inside the calendar and window also. A child shouldn’t think more complex thing so he started eating chocolate again. It was tasty and it was the prize. Before Shanti could succeed in touching her toe to her ear, Tutu’s aunt (Neena's mother), Kanu entered the room. She was shocked at the whole scene. Her sister was surely going mad due to tragedies of her life. Poor woman. If she hadn’t been keeping Neena, they would have thrown her out too. They had to. Everyone would do that in her place. So Kanu was not a bad woman but only a reasonable one. Yeah, reasonable. Everything in the world is reasonable after-all. It just takes an intelligent eye to see the relevancy of the universe. Intelligent eyes are

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as rare as a volley-ball over billiard table. Damn example. Anyway, everything was as it should have been. Simple. Neena's mother name was Kanu. She had a vulture's eye. Which was common these days. She was fat and ugly. She was the worst woman Tutu had ever seen in his life. Her face was representing her mind. But a child shouldn’t think about things like this so he threw the rapper of the chocolate in the dustbin and felt uneasy. When he felt uneasy he tried to disappear under the sheet of Neena. Neena liked that but she didn’t like her mother. Her mother didn’t know like everyone else that Neena could control minds of people. Though, Kanu had the suspicion that Neena was under the influence of a bad soul or air. Her daughter needed an exorcist or the saint from her village but she wasn’t in favor of it because for her, Neena was a useless worthless piece of garbage now. A lump of throat which couldn’t be swallowed or spitted-out. Vulture's eye wasn’t working these days and all the dummies of the world were collected in Kanu’s house now. Vulture's eye had never worked with expectations. She was married to a sleepy-fat shopkeeper who had a breath like baby’s puke. And God gave her a hell of a fate with no happiness and no pleasant surprises. Now this, a retard daughter with no hopes and future. And this Tutu was another little pain in the ass. Thank god that he wasn’t elder or she had to tell her sister to move-out without being reasonable. None needed. When a plate fall down there is a motive behind it. If a clock is stopped there is some reason. It takes a beautiful eye to see the beauty and it takes a reasonable eye to see the reasons. All this is pretty useless anyway. Everyone in the house was running on the will of Neena except Tutu. She spared tutu because of love or stuff. Nobody would ever know why. And nothing was enough so everyone was only living their lives and trying to forget about the cause and effect. Neena's mother stopped looking for the reasons to throw her sister out. Tutu was happy because he was so small and got not many reasons to be sad yet. His mother was sad because she got no reasons to be happy. Neena was Neena and the house was her responsibility. So she was running the house by running people around without saying a word or moving a hair of her body. People were serving her like servants and butlers. It was difficult to say if the accident had made her life worse or better. She couldn’t walk or run but she didn’t need to. Her needs were done while being on same place all the time. She could get all she wanted. Still she was missing something. But she had accepted it because everyone was missing something in his or her life so it was all right. Sometimes she thought about her classmates in spare time (all the time was spare). She wanted to meet them and ask about their lives. Or make them do one or two things for old revenge sake. But mostly she thought about how they would be living. Were they as helpless as her or more? She wanted to move out of here and do something on her own many times. It was hard to press emotions and urges. Tears rolled down her eyes. Tutu smiled at her. It made another tear. He was so cruel and sweet. That is why he was out of her anger.

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She could do more about this. But she was feeling lazy and her mind was tired of hard work. It was acting as a substitute for her body by producing clear strong blowing imaginations and it was controlling others. These were hard jobs. She hated herself secretly (common). But that wasn’t going to change the fact that she was lucky to get this power and she could do many things which were even impossible for the walking-talking people. So her days were spending in comforting herself that how she still had a chance and a bright future with many plans. Aunt was moving fan on her face because room was hot due to power-cut (which was somehow related to the poster case. Don’t ask more). And her father came inside. He put the hands on Neena’s cheek. It was soft and warm. He whispered something but she couldn’t listen because it was very slow. So she made him speak it again louder by dominating him. He told her ‘wooden puppet.’ She felt sorry for him and he got paralysis attack after few seconds. Destiny can be cruel sometimes. It wasn’t easy for her too. But her ego and anger was higher than MT. Everest. This too shall pass. She loved her father and mother. But love isn’t everything. Love means sacrifice. She spared breath of his father and that was love. Father would be awake and well soon. But lessons are the essence. He would never call her a puppet ever again. She wasn’t a puppet. She was a puppet-master instead. Tutu was writing something on her body with a red colored pen he found near the shoe box. She couldn’t be gladder. He was writing her name on her white soft skin. Tutu should have written his own name instead. Then he started making things on her face. He started poking her to see the effect. Nothing. It disappointed him. She wanted him to try once more but he didn’t. He kept making figures on her neck and hands. He made a bat-ball. A clock. A girl. A star. Then he slept near her after half an hour. She could watch his dreams. It was Neena in his dreams. With a hard face.

Vinay Name – Vinay Thakur Age – 24 Education – high school and a course in piano playing. Occupation – unemployed Marital status – single Hobbies – playing piano, singing.

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Jagdeesh was with principal and they wanted to meet the students to make them understand the seriousness of the matter. They went to the house of Vinay Thakur. Raviraj was known at the house because he had met the parents several times. Parents were nice people. Mother was a teacher and father had an office job. They got a small regular family car which hadn’t been used for months now and owned a silver brown Santro. Vinay was talking in his room. But there was no one else. Principal chuckled. He wanted to go inside and talk to Vinay. Vinay told someone to excuse for sometime. He immediately recognized Raviraj and touched his feet in respect. Then he introduced principal to someone. Principal couldn't see nobody. Pity was that the boy wasn't acting strange. He was completely in consciousness and just like before the accident. Vinay wasn't his favorite student. Even once Raviraj shouted at Vinay because of dirty uniform and sent a note to his home. But right now he was feeling happy after meeting an old student. Vinay was better than he expected. The conditions of others make him feel sorrow and responsible. Such bright students. Such terrible mishappening. Vinay wanted to show him something and he took out a Yamaha piano from inside the study table somewhere. It was in a good condition and seemed new. It might be his birthday present of this year. Vinay played some nice songs and symphonies on piano which was very much liked by both principal and Jagdeesh. And Vinay told someone about the history of the symphony and about the life of Beethoven and Bach. Jagdeesh pinched the principal lightly. ‘Vinay,’ princial asked, ‘you ever meet anyone else from your classmates after your schooling was done.’ ‘You mean if I am in touch with someone?’ Vinay asked. ‘Aha, do you know what are they doing or anything else? I am just curious,’ principal asked. Vinay put pressure on his thoughts and tried to obtain some memory. He moved fingers and then a smile came to his face. And then smile faded. ‘Yes, I met Aniket once before he committed suicide.’ ‘Oh, how terrible. I am sorry to ask you such a thing.’ Principal told him. ‘No please, sir. It is not right if a principal would say sorry to a student. And you are my elder on that. He just jumped from the third floor. No big deal, except that he fell on his head and his hairstyle ruined. He wasn't my friend or something. He wasn't the friend of nobody. Nobody was the friend of anyone,’ then Vinay started playing again. Principal wanted to shout on him again for how could he speak in disrespect of his fellow student who was not even alive. But it was not a right place to say such a thing and not even the right time. Vinay wasn't a school-boy anymore and he could express himself in anyway he wanted. And besides that principal didn't want to tangle with him because Jagdeesh told him that the gas couldn't be trusted. One couldn’t see the effect of the gas. Perhaps Vinay was only looking all-right from surface but from inside he could be completely different for good or for bad. He could be a sleeping volcano or a monster waiting to be provoked. Raviraj tried to concentrate on the symphonies because those were really making him calmer. Vinay was really good at this and Jagdeesh felt that too.

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After sometime Vinay's mother bought cookies and tea for the guests and sit there to listen to their conversation. It was her old village habit which never left her. There were things that he wanted to discuss with Vinay. About his dreams and hobbies or if he was experiencing anything strange. But his reply was the second sign of that accident they saw since coming. First was Vinay's talking with someone who didn't even exist. Jagdeesh remembered that he talked to himself sometimes while working and walking alone. Sometimes extreme or potent thoughts come out thorough mouth. People speak in dreams often and they swear unconsciously sometimes. Speaking and thinking mix-up sometimes and result in this. But Vinay was not talking like a mistake. He was talking so naturally and comfortably like people talk to peers or brother. He shouldn’t have. Vinay was trying to share his tea with someone right now and mother was looking him like a statue. It was an everyday thing for her now so they could understand. She might cry when they would leave. But Vinay was still in the good condition. Speaking with the air wasn't too bad. They were expecting Vinay to walk on the walls or explode. Symphonies were mixing nectar to the atmosphere and tea-cookies were perfect combination. It was the best thing in that room and extremely good for the ears. Mother was talking in slow voice to the principal about her family and about her son. That how things changed after her son's schooling and how she was looking forward to the visit of principal. She told the principal that her son was not like before and had become unnatural and unpractical. That Vinay kept talking to someone all day long and kept playing this piano like it was the only thing remaining in the whole universe. She had no objection with that though she wanted him to live like other boys of the neighbor. To study and earn. She wanted him to drive the car and motor-cycle. And to live for taste and beauty. But the things had changed. Though, she was proud of him and kept saying that he played so good piano. It was true. She told them that they organized a small show in the local park so their son could show his talent to other people as well. She invited them also and they accepted it. She wanted his old school friends in that show too. So it would make him remember the good old days and make him realize that life got more to it. Now that felt like irony. Innocent woman didn't know anything. She was luckier than the other's parents. Principal told her that he was in contact with a few of fellow students of Vinay (which was a lie) and he would pass the message to all of them. Principal had an illusion for a second. He felt like cup was moved slightly itself. Then he started wondering what would happen to him if he was in the lab that day. Could his mature mind shield such a powerful thing which ruined the lives of so many? It wasn't a good idea to put the chemical in school laboratory. And it was an absolutely ridiculous decision to show the laboratory (specially the one full of strange liquids) to the final year arts class. Well, time couldn't be rewind. So it was better to make plans for future and damage control for the things that were remaining. The ruins of that incident were so ugly, his students. Some were dead and some were alive. Perhaps dead ones were luckier. He was feeling sorry for everyone of them. For this boy playing the piano here. It was so peaceful to listen to him. Painful peace. Vinay was playing his heart out. He was completely one with this electronic instrument and all the ears of the room that were listening to him. He was controlling the vibes of the room with his fingers. It was magical. Principal was feeling proud that Vinay was the student of his own school once. It was true that gas couldn’t be judged or predicted. Perhaps he was looking great

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or different or not doing jobs or study but the way Vinay was moving his fingers on the keyboard, it was marvelous. Principal asked Vinay on departure to walk with them to their car which was outside the house near the old electric iron pole. The thought of crossing the door and going outside sent shivers to Vinay's body. He couldn't. He simply couldn't. But saying no to his principal (who was even a guest now) was too much of disrespect. But. He looked at his mother in disbelief. Only she could help him right now. Only if she wanted to. How could she let this happen when she knew that he didn't like to go out like this. This simple thing was the most difficult task for Vinay. And principal asked that intentionally. Vinay had to do this now. He combed his hairs for the first time in weeks and while going out principal had another illusion that the door opened itself. This time it was not an illusion. He was sure about that. And even Jagdeesh noticed that too because he exchanged a quick glance of agreement. Vinay wasn't talking to empty air all that time. There was something in the room that couldn't be seen. Jagdeesh took out a notepad and wrote ‘metaphysical’ over it. Meeting Vinay and drinking tea wasn’t his motive to come here. He had other important things to do. He might be wishing secretly that Vinay would show something extraordinary or this visit would be disappointing. Visit wasn’t a failure. Something was there/ It was around. It wasn't a friend. It could be a highly enhanced or evolved imagination of Vinay or some other devil they couldn't guess. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Gas had played his cruel game there too. On the way back Vinay was continuously talking on his left side of body and was even touching the air like a substance matter. It calmed Vinay greatly and was preparing him to move out. The last time he saw the sunlight was one and half months ago. He asked principal for the reason of arrival. Principal told him the whole truth. Vinay throw a glance at his left side again with a question in his eyes. Why are you telling me all this? To make my life worst. Isn't it enough? What it would change? Vinay asked four questions at once. Trying to make it right again is my only motive. To preserve what is remaining. Principal answered him. Done is done. Nothing would change now. You can’t even imagine how it feels like and you want to make a change. You got no idea about its nature. It is real. So real. More than you and me. More than this universe. More than the things. It is like music, God and time. You cant do anything about these. You has to accept it as your own because these are more powerful and everlasting than me and you. Principal wondered if he was talking to a boy who was barely out of his teenage. It was so powerful, right. And it was inside him. Vinay was telling the truth. More than they thought that it would have been. It was unknown, strange and evil. It could move things and change the nature of matter, mind and life. Emotions and feelings. It could convert the right to wrong and wrong to right. Minus to plus. Multiply to divide. It could change the meaning of rules. It could change the definitions of happiness and sadness. It could play God or Evil. It could play resurrection or antichrist. And it was playing. Principal was angry at Jagdeesh and himself for being a reason of this stupidity. He rubbed his hands on the oily hairs of Vinay before getting inside the car. Jagdeesh was outside and was out of this whole drama for all the time. He was

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thinking about the more practical things. He looked through the windshield to the principal. Fucking old man. Principal was watching Jagdeesh with the eyes of request. Vinay was only waiting for these two gentlemen to leave the goddamn place so he could get back inside his house again. Jagdeesh came closer to Vinay and inspected him briefly. ‘Some people get in accidents sometimes. It is no body's fault actually,’ Jagdeesh told him. ‘Yes, sir.’ Vinay gave a small laugh. ‘Jagdeesh come inside quickly.’ Principal called from inside the Sedan. ‘COMING,’ Then he turned towards Vinay again. ‘Accidents happen but the most important thing after an accident is balancing it.’ ‘Hmmm,’ Vinay looked confused. ‘To lower the shock. To pick up the things that are survived and to throw away the toxic wastes. That is what they teach science students in the school what you art people don't know about. To dispose the toxic wastes after the experiment very carefully and immediately,’ Jagdeesh told him. ‘We are good at disposal.’ ‘What is your point mister?’ It was frustrating for Vinay. ‘That you, Vinay Thakur, is nothing but a toxic waste now. A threat to the nation and society.’ ‘Aha, I am listening. Wow.’ vinay said. ‘I got no choice. Sorry kid,’ Jagdeesh produced a revolver and shoot Vinay from close range. Only it couldn’t touch vinay but stopped by something. ‘You shouldn’t save me,’ Vinay told someone. ‘He was doing this with good intentions. Besides it would end up all shit in an easy way.’ Then Vinay turned towards his home with hands in his pockets. It was evening and cold dryness was covering the city with dark. There was less traffic on the roads than usual and sounds were breaking the silences. Jagdeesh opened the door of the car and sat inside 'I couldn't do this.’ 'Do what? I heard the gunshot,' principal asked 'I told you not to harm any of those. They are not dangerous. Keep sitting inside a stupid room all the time isn't dangerous for God sake.’ ‘It is. Sometimes it is.’ Jagdeesh replied. ‘Listen. It was all your mistake and now you are making up for it in worst way possible,’ Principal's voice raised. ‘Don't make me forget our old friendship. They are my students and I would go to any extent to help them.’ ‘Shut up and get out of here. Start the engine,’ Jagdeesh wasn't comfortable in the creepy silence on that place. As if the thing was still here around them. ‘I am not joking.’ ‘Drive.’

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A little reunion

‘Do you remember me?’ Sudir asked Sanjay. ‘No, you are the same bastard from my class. Aren’t you?’ Sanjay answered. ‘Yes, I am that. But I am not the same,’ Sudhir told Sanjay. He fixed up an appointment to meet Sanjay today because he wanted to get closer to his dream problem. It was getting bigger and bigger in the past few weeks. Now he was dying with pain in the dreams and could feel it each-time after waking-up. He started watching all the things in the dreams that he hated and despised all his life. Dread and darkness was covering his nights. Death, fights, blood, mud, water-bottle (he hated water-bottle), loud sounds, his aunt, cousin, school enemy, math teacher and his old neighbors. All the things that Sudhir had thrown out of his life started coming back to him again after going to bed to haunt the hell out of him. The more he tried to run from all these, the more he tangled. When he stopped running then it jammed his blood. There was nowhere to run now. He had to sleep and if he would sleep then he had to face all the things that symbolized the dark part of his life. He had black marks below his eyes now and he looked weaker as if he hadn't slept for months. He could give anything to sleep properly for one night. How pitiful. ‘Why did you want to meet me?’ Sanjay asked. ‘I wanted to know if you would be having some kind of dreams.’ ‘Are you crazy. Of course, I do.’ ‘No, I mean special kind.’ ‘Yeah, last night I saw that I was having sex with your wife,’ Sanjay continued to be sarcastic. ‘I don't have a wife. Just tell me what I am asking,’ Sandeep almost pleaded. ‘You hated me in the school. Didn't you? You were my undeclared rival. I didn't even like to see your face. I prayed before coming to school everyday that you would remain at home. You stole my project file and complained the teacher when I was cheating in the exam. Didn't you?' ‘Yes, that is right. And that is old, don’t forget. We are in the same boat right now.’

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‘Same boat… Same boat… Haha. Don't make me laugh. Just because you have money and you are successful now it doesn’t mean that you can compete Purohits. you don't even got the status to stand close to me.’ ‘I am not talking about business, fool. I am talking about that stupid laboratory accident. You were there with me. I was looking at you and I was jealous of you. Don't mind because that is not important. So I was jealous of you and I was thinking about how to defame and demoralize you. How to make you blacklisted and ruin your whole day. I was like that during those days, not now. Though, it would please me more than anything to see your loser face with anger for me. haaah, those sweet school days. Those would never come back. We could be friends during that time but that wouldn't have been this funny,' and then Sudhir's face went serious 'that was then, today I am not the same and it doesn’t matter to me weather you would eat cheese omelets in breakfast or boot-polish. I am here only because you and me have shared something drastic. And that day changed me and my world.’ ‘Do you know that you are standing in my house right now. Change your tone Sudhir or you cannot get out of here on legs.’ ‘You didn't changed a bit but when I read about your greatness in the newspaper I knew that it wasn't you. It couldn't be you. It has to be someone else. And besides that I know what you did to that poor girl whom you kidnapped and kept in your house. Her ashes would still be there on the places where your father threw them,' Sudhir told him with extraordinary calmness. ‘So you should go to the police-station instead of coming here,’ Sanjay smiled. It was nothing but a nice time-pass for him to come out of things like that. He had a lifelong habit of getting into tough circumstances and coming out clean. To solve the matters in corporate way. By taking help of associates and experts. They knew how to handle things. Sanjay believed that money could buy anything. He didn't know the meaning of the words like impossible and nothing. But he did know the meaning of sadness and lunacy. ‘Ask me for coffee,’ Sudhir told him and that changed the scene. ‘Would you like a coffe?’ ‘Yeah, sure.’ 'Raman…. Raman.. Two coffee.’ ‘You know, you were the only enemy I got whom I respect.’ ‘Well, that is some compliment. I didn't hate you because you were rich. I hated you because I had to hate someone. Because people hate each-other without reasons sometimes.’ ‘I can understand. I hate many things too without reasons. And besides that you are mature now. That was childhood and look at you now. A grown up business tycoon. I am a married man now and my wife is pregnant. Times has changed.’ ‘I tried to contact others too but they were not in a position to meet. Even my close friends refused to recognize me. Usually people recognize quickly when you become successful. Everything is behaving upside down. Holy mother of god. Do you feel strange.’ ‘People say that I am not like before. I don't know what they mean actually. I always wanted to have fun only but the meaning of fun is different now. Giving pain to others is funny to me now. Even when I am going to have a son of my own in few months. I don't care if this is right or wrong. It is just what it is. It feels good when I see that someone is crying or sad. And

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sometimes when I don't see these type of things around then I try to create sadness and pain around me by hurting and teasing others to satisfy myself. My own people are becoming victims. I hit my servants and I shout on my mother and wife. I never really grown up, yaar. I have become smaller than before. And more dangerous to add,’ Sanjay told. ‘It doesn’t surprise me. Nothing surprises me now. We don't deserve it. You know. We are dying everyday. Each one of us. Luckier ones are dead already. One is on death row. One is on bed since the day it has happened. One have a non-bailable arrest warrant issued against him for killing of innocent little kids. Few are disappeared. Few murdered. To hell with them. I am not happy and that is all I care about. That is all what matters right now. I have forgotten the names of all my friends. There is no difference between you and them now. There is no difference between the person walking down the street and you. There is no difference in my mother, father and driver. Because I am too much in stress to define anything now. This is tough to explain. I just take everything and swallow it through mind and body without bothering about its shape, size and relation. You wouldn't understand what I am saying until you would be inside my body.’ ‘You are wrong because I think I know what is happening to you. Not exactly, though. But I am not much worried about it. I am trying to make fun out of it. Why don't you make peace with yourself and try to live with it instead.’ ‘You must be joking. Aren’t you? Have you ever vomited after sleep because of dream disgust. What is real is real because it looks real. But what if dreams look more real than fucking reality? How would you differentiate? Where would you run from yourself at that time? How can you stop yourself from sleeping?' ‘I wouldn't stop myself from sleeping. I would start enjoying this situation. If there would be shit then I would eat the shit.’ ‘Easy for you to say. I am watching everything that I don't ever want to see. I am not watching naked women dancing around my bed.’ ‘Just adapt yourself according to the situation. This is so easy. Once there was a movie which my father took me to. It had too much of romance which was making my head spin. I simply can’t understand this emotion. So I couldn't figure out the story line and found the movie boring and time-waste till interval. Then I went out for popcorn and then father told me to enjoy that movie. You should listen to the tone of his voice. He speaks with such a command which he has got from my grandfather. And I obeyed like everyone else. I decided to enjoy the movie and I found it entertaining. Even I made a girlfriend after that which was my longest relationship of my life that remained for one week. So my advice is to keep doing whatever you are doing in dreams but don't do it with reluctance but rather with a pleasure and enthusiasm. It would be a little hard in the beginning but if I can do this while being awake. You can do this easily while being asleep.’ ‘You know what I am doing in dreams. I follow people and I hit them and I steal things. I bath with filth. I meet haters. I lose my life hundreds of time and I put my hand in the tires of trucks and fans. If I would try to enjoy all this then I would go nuts.’ ‘You are going nuts anyway. Better with choice then with resistance. As you see resistance is of no use so shake hands with your destiny if you cannot fight it. Who likes to do the homework but kids do that for so many years.’

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‘Mm. I think that you are right. Running is not a solution. Fighting with yourself would only cause more damage.’ ‘Here, have some more coffee for more intelligence,’ Sanjay poured more coffee into the mug of Sudhir. ‘So we are friends now.’ ‘Yes, besides that I don't get the status to stand close to me,’ Sanjay Purohit said. Sudhir smiled. ‘I can’t believe it. You are the same guy I wanted to kill during school,’ Sanjay took a sip. ‘I would be grateful if you had.’ ‘Come on. Things are not that bad.’ ‘Maybe. But not good either. We should do something about it.’ ‘I am too lazy for that. What do you need from me?’ ‘Nothing much. You already make my day and I want to make it better now. Lets organize a reunion. I want to meet everyone in whatever form they are. I want to meet them to forget myself maybe. Or maybe together we all could fight against it better. What say?’ ‘Not a bad idea in my opinion. But it would take a lots of hard work because as you are telling about them it seems to me that they aren’t hi-hello people anymore. May even be harmful also. The people who can hurt themselves can hurt anyone without thinking twice.’ ‘They wouldn’t hurt you. Don’t worry. Can Vinay hurt you? He was your best buddy.’ ‘I am not worried about myself or hurting, cuts, blood or insult. First thing is that i am not going to call them myself. I never do anything myself. So there are no questions. Next, that Vinay is not our good old Vinay.’ ‘Guess what. His parents are organizing a musical concert. Vinay would play piano there. That loser. Haha. Can you believe it?’ ‘What can I say. Anyone can do anything. All i know is that I am not going into some lousy concert of an amateur piano player.’ ‘You should go. Other ones might show-up there too.’ ‘You think so? You mean murderers, psychics and psychos, All? How exciting,’ Sanjay taunted. ‘Your sense of humor has become harsh, Sanjay. Just like you. They called you poodle because you got no guts and you were over-sophisticated. But they would fall down on one glance of you right now,’ ‘So what should you call me now?’ ‘I am not sure about that. But I certainly wouldn’t offence you again. Especially in your house,’ Sudhir moved his eyes which gave him a quick idea of luxury present there. Interior was old and priceless including paintings, pots, telephone and furniture. Sanjay never had a taste in interiors. Now he was thinking about acquiring that taste.

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‘No you wouldn’t. When is the concert?’ ‘Are you doing this for me?’ ‘Just for fun.’

Wall of fortune

Windows and doors and everything and all You and me and others that fall Home is far away so keep running fast One who is walking might come last Hearts and hurts and nothing has left Money, watches, clothes. Nothing has been kept Talk to me when I am looking at you Look at me when i am talking to you There is life and there are signs There are grapes and there are wines

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There are cries and there are shouts There is police and there are scouts Police was silent and scouts were making noise Police shot scouts and then there was no voice Everything that I saw and everything that had name All was ruined and went to the same All I cared about were rhythms and letters Words only please me, words only flatter I don’t know what is outside, day or night I don’t know what is inside darkness or light All has spread on my foot and got mixed up All has jammed me on my ground, While my world is moving and go-round Come and hit me and make a wish I am your joker and I am your star-fish Make it fast Please don’t make it hard Make it quicker Make it thick and thinner

Nothing is there to eat My hunger is spoiled Looking at a once white subject Where the black is coiled Don’t try to know it It is hard to understand It is your enemy It is not your friend Once you would get in You wished you were out Try to turn and push and find This is what life is all about You wanted to make it then try You fail then cry and try again Life may let you win But it would give you stain I can’t forget the time when I was there It was everything but it wasn’t fair

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Fairness is nowhere, fairness is not the rule If you expect fair things then go back to school Fair is nothing, fair is an illusion Fair creates imbalance, fair creates confusion Fair is unfair and fair is not good Fair is not water and fair is not food He is balanced when something hits his mind He looses all consciousness and all tapes rewind Don’t trust thoughts and things that hit you from the air Air is not your friend and air is not fair When there are two things Then there will be fight I am not involved and so pleasant is the sight But then I run away As there is coming night Don’t say no don’t that I am afraid of it Don’t say no please don’t that I have to sit I have to go and many other things to do I have to go and many other dices to throw I have to change my clothes before sleep When I sleep, I cannot weep Come closer to me you are all my people I want to let you know the deepness of my love It is like an eagle and it is like a dove You have nothing to loose and bonds to gain It may give you happiness or you may feel the pain But do not worry because I am here for you always I was in that lab with you and now I am yours for all days Please don’t tell me if you like me or not I wouldn’t tell you too before cutting your throat Don’t walk back as I am only joking I know only jokes and I don’t know poking

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5th page of the diary I have seen what I wanted to see. And it was a nice world to live in. I am feeling happy that I was a part of it once. I have got more than I deserved. I don’t deserve anything. Why? What is the use anyway but at-least I got a chance to see the beauty. Which I didn’t use. I did the opposite actually. And I am going with regrets and happiness. I don’t know if I should be sad or happy because of what once happened to me in the school. There are bomb blasts and hundreds of people die and there are fires which cost people lives and bad memories. It is the bad memories and stupid thinking one should be more careful about. Not disasters and deaths. There is meaning in life and meaninglessness. Both are same things. I didn’t try harder. I should have tried harder to be happy but it depends from person to person. I just couldn’t. Perhaps I was happy all the time and wasn’t even aware about it. My father is happy with me these days and he brought various things for me sometimes before getting home. Which I consider as a great thing too. He is a lonely person by heart and he is sympathizing with me I think because now we are alike. Though, I had no problem with him before too. I always lived like I wanted so what else matters. And now that I am going to die like I want. I don’t know what is the right way to die. jhatka or halaal. Should I die painfully to wash away all my sins in hope for a reincarnation? Or should it be painless by some pills or by shooting my head out. Pity we depend so much on the knowledge, to live or to not to live. My mind is clean now and thoughts are clear. Matter and events are so light. Like, I have surrendered myself to the absolute entity. Though, I am ashamed for the things that made me and I think about my father. If he would be sad when I will be absent. Because I am taking the only thing that he have. Which reminds him of mother. Me. this is not a suicide note. I only wanted to talk to someone and tell him about what is in my mind but there is no

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one to whom I can say these personal thoughts without being declared mad. And I don’t want to get insulted before leaving. What can be a better companion than a paper where I can express myself. First of all I want to talk about the reason for this step. You only left the thing which is of no use and causing only more stress and looks like a lots of work for no reason. Life is this to me. There is only thirst and hunger remaining for me without knowing the cause and solution. One has no idea many times about the state of another person. Putting yourself in someone else shoe is one of the hardest things to do. I want someone to cry for me at-least sometimes. And I want to see their face. I would like it if someone would care. Isn’t it magical when people care for us. They would pity on me and few would say ugly things like, ‘how much stupid I was to commit it and that I waste my father’s expectations and money.’ It is exciting to think about all this. I still have many things in mind which are waiting to be done. Small things. Like going on my roof and talking to my neighbor and buying something from the nearby shop. Sipping some drink on my balcony and thinking about the people who would be going from below. Why I am not doing that? why? why? Wish it is as easy for me as for others. Even picking up the soap from the ground is hard. For such a small task I have to think and rethink and rethink, again and again and again before doing. Sometimes I try to behave normally and to do what others are doing. Today, I went to the main gate of my house and looked at the girl who was standing outside the door and was talking to her friend. I tried to look at her and to like her. What a joke? I thought about her hairs and her cloths. I thought that those were pretty nice and sexy thing. I tried to think, how she might look with a shy glance if I would crack an obscene joke. It was a funny idea because I was actually trying to acquire a taste. I tried to concentrate on my dick and glance harder at her curves. Everything was going deep inside my head. It was only going towards the core of all the things and the essence of substances.. I tried to look at another girl and I had the same thing, same results. I was just not into it. They seemed like radio and cup or any other tool device etc. It was making me cry. Then I went to my room and open the songs which everyone was listening these days for another try. And trust me if you don’t like anything then you don’t like it just. What else to say. You are helpless when chicken and pulses taste the same. Though, there are possessions in my room which I like and wouldn’t like to share those with anyone for any greed. It includes a piece of wire and a spoon which I found once while walking on the road. It is an aluminum spoon which slums people use because it cost very low and heat up soon with the hot food. There is a carving of the leaf on its handle. I eat with it sometimes and put it near me while going to sleep. There is a small iron toy car which I like. It is in my another hand right now and it is very small. A finger’s size. It runs on the ground when you push it with hand lightly but children used to do it fast sometimes. I push it lightly always because it is very important for me. Father brought it for me when I was six year old. I play with it and I change its tires with the tires of a new toy car. And I clean it and put it on the place where no one can find it. I have some money in my room too which is here so I could use it for shopping. I use this to buy cigarettes and eggs. Which I eat raw. Because I don’t like to cook. Sometimes I do house hold works too. I went to the

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watch repair shop to repair the old wall clock. It was made of wood and it reminds me of cartoon movie. It had a sparrow inside it which doesn’t work anymore. But I wanted it to move so I took it to the watch repair shop and he repaired the sparrow. Sparrow started coming out after each hour and then I hated the sparrow because it came out even when I didn’t want to listen to its chirping. So I caught its head as it came out one day at 4 P.M and squash and rotate it. Poor sparrow died. But, I still love that sparrow because it is a good sparrow. If I love it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean that I would show mercy on seeing it again. So I was saying that I do household things few times when I want to. And I fill water in the filter everyday. I do that so I can watch at the television while filling the water but that is not important. Water is filled and that’s what one should care about. My father watches the television at that time so I stand close to him while the water fills the filter and look at him. He gives me the remote after two or three minutes. And then I surf all the channels randomly. Sometimes I stay at movies channel and craft channel which are meant for kids. I like it. Then I put the water-filter back on the chair (we use a chair to put the filter. Isn’t it royal?) and put the remote near my father so he could see the channels of his choice now. He does. I come back to my room to do other stuff. I eat the food father bring for me while coming from work. It is mostly sandwiches and Chinese noodles. I eat it with cold-drink or tea. Sometimes there is juice. I prefer juice but I don’t tell this to father. I don’t want to bother him by telling him my choices. He brings something to fill my stomach and that’s enough for me. He cooks for himself in the kitchen. He cooks pulses and chapattis. Sometimes he eats bread with cream. He eats a lot of tasteless things. He likes living this way. Just minding his own business. He is easy to understand and simple. Simple like a table or window. He isn’t like a computer or Sony music system. Or an electric fuse. Enough. One day I was imagining how I would treat my own kid. I would dominate him on every field of his life and would try to influence all the area of his activities. I would keep him under my shadow and would beat him on mistakes like old fathers. Yes, I would buy him toys sometimes. Toys of my choice. I would let him watch television too but I wouldn’t hand him the remote. Perhaps I would even teach him against his own mother. I would punish him sometimes on disobedience. I would make sure that he would hate me. And then i would show him his right place(below me). Of course, that is never going to happen because I don’t want to bear life that far. This is too much for now. Thank you god for giving me all that I deserved or didn’t. And thank you all of you for looking after me and feeding me with food, eyes and ice. No hard shit, no regrets (no). And I have told my heart out on this piece of paper. This is the best thing that happen today. What can one say if one is saying for the last time? Nothing. I put my belongings like that spoon and car in a handkerchief and kept it on the bed with a slip that says, ‘my dear things’. I know my father would keep those on the upper self of his study table. And I know that he would eat with the aluminum spoon occasionally on being too lazy to go to kitchen. He is like this. Hunger is more important than emotions for him. And I don’t complain. I would like him eating with this spoon. He can take care of himself. Everyone can take care of themselves or they got no right to live in this world. Like me. Personal opinion sucks. Personal

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opinions make people do things which are not appropriate. Personal opinions destroy relationships. Personal opinions ruin lives and make people stubborn. Personal opinions make people cut their own hands and vanish themselves. May be it is good to have some kind of personal opinion to declare your thinking and mind. Like I am doing right now. I would be declared by this step. Hell, I talk funny sometimes.

Jagdeesh

Things weren’t like they looked like. They were not that complex. Everything was clear. Jagdeesh developed that thing in the government workshop by utilizing most sophisticated and dangerous elements and machines. He asked the authority the permission to test these but that only resulted in indirect insults, cautions and warnings from the upper level. That increased his

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determination (it works like this) and he made the resolution to use it on common men to take revenge from the country which ignored him and disgraced him for his talent. School was the first place that came into his mind. Yes, no better revenge than destroying the future of the country. All his life he had been a nationalist. Even he wanted to become a scientist to serve for country. He used to stand on national anthem wherever he was and was a fan of patriotic movies and revolutionaries who contributed in the freedom struggle. Strange what an insult can do to a person’s whole ideology. All the love transformed into hate rage and now he was taking this step which was going to leave its mark forever. This plan hit him when his old friend, who was a principal of a reputed school, approached him to volunteer the art class and teach them about the importance of science and about its basic facts. It was a nice opportunity to spread the poison in the next generation. The only thing he had to do was to prepare an appropriate leaking container for the substance he invented. He already had the substance so rest was as easy as making lemonade. That’s what he was doing since childhood. Planting it inside the laboratory was a tricky business. But principal was a friend of him. Friend, haha, they were in the same class once. Everyone used to call names on principal when he was a child like dumbo and square. Principal never mind anything. He was too square really. And Jagdeesh needed a spoon to follow him wherever he would go. It looks good. So that was the friendship story. Now he needed that square once more and principal was eveready to help-out his old friend. It was only a coincident that a boy struck on the wooden shelf and it fell down. And it wasn’t needed. Gas was already leaking. The fall only dramatized everything and make it seemed different which worked in favor of Jagdeesh because principal never had suspicion on him. Principal was too straight to think bad for anyone. World was too good in his eyes even when he had seen everything in his life. So everything happened like Jagdeesh wanted. Results of the human test were better than he expected. He changed thirty lives in an irreversible way. He started a chain that was still going on. Which couldn’t be stopped now. Jagdeesh was priding himself for making such a weapon and pitying on his seniors for not recognizing his wonderful creativity. He was an artist. He made a great thing and its hit was so amazing that there was no need to kill the victim after that. It was worse than death. Authority should have affiliated and passed orders to develop it further. There were many areas of improvements still there. But they considered it a dead project and turned their backs to it. They were all stubborn bookish bums anyway. But they were forgetting that if Jagdeesh could do it once then He could do it always again. It was tickling him that he was the reason behind most of the hustle that was happening in the city these days. It was giving him a feeling of being powerful and brilliant. If only people knew then he would be recognized like a Nobel-Prize winner. Of- course some people got killed in the process but great things need sacrifices. And this substance could get the reputation which it deserved. It deserved the place Equivalent to best inventions of all times. Sad, that he born in this country or things would be lot different. He thought about the days when he used to shout vande mataram on the school functions with the finishing of national song. It always filled him with honor and pride. And how he used to roam around the streets with flag on 15th of august. People normally don’t expect such activities from studious boys but who bothers. It was a free country and free air at that part of his age. Things got tangled as he grew up. He became a

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scientist when his parents wanted him to do a regular more paying private sector jobs. He decided to make his country more secure and powerful. But this country let him down. People of this country crushed all his expectations. All his hard works and brains went into filling forms and keeping things in order. Bureaucracy and diplomacy made him work like a clerk and that was simply unacceptable. How could they? It was like using an anti-aircraft gun to kill mosquitoes. He wanted to do something solid and permanent. For that he needed the permission and it was not easy. Not that it was going to stop him either. And Jagdeesh kept on doing what he wanted. It was butter. He could do anything he liked to do there and no-one ever tried to pull him too hard. It wasn’t a bank after-all. It wasn’t a private sector company. Government is not professional but there are some advantages of having a government job. People used to take things light here. There wasn’t a war going on and no emergencies. Things were normal and a scientific workshop was only a formality of a developing country according to many people. Only to give a sense of security. Which was a right point of view in many aspects. But as the rule of exception some people are always at every place who take their work more seriously than anyone else. There are always innovative and hard-working people at every organization and Jagdeesh was one of those. He was always like this. during school when he used to be the monitor of the class, he did that work so seriously that other students filed a complaint against him. Hard work was all he know his whole life. He got a body of a rickshaw puller and it wasn’t a shame for him to wake up at nights for overtime and work without extra payments. Payments never mattered much for him. He only needed a few bucks per day to keep putting the fuel inside his body to keep working. And Delhi was good for this type of life-style. One can live like a king here irrespective of money status. It wasn’t so costly and wasn’t cheap either. Depends upon where you are standing. A samosa at lunch with hot tea and one rupee chapattis at night was all he needed. Though, he enjoyed old songs in the radio while eating instead of working. Old songs from the black and while age of Indian cinema. Romantic slow music without much of rock and roll. He did like to watch television but didn’t have the time to watch one. Though, he watched it sometimes on the telecast of a great movie at his friend’s house. Those things weren’t going to change the fact that he got a dream and all the will of world to make it come true. He used to talk big mouth with his colleagues and friends. He talked about his progress and the things which could be done to improve the existing. He was a man of plans. Big plans. He could make two plus two five and that was his real property. Straight way or not. The result was the only thing important for him. Sometimes he was handling the whole work of his unit and couldn’t be unhappy. He didn’t know unhappiness or anything. He was too busy for that. Feelings were the waste of brains and time according to him. ‘I love you’ he told his wife at first night. It was an instruction from her sister because he was not much experienced in women matters. His wife smiled because it was the first time someone had told her those words. It was the last time too because he never again expressed his love to her. He was a simple guy while not working. In the workshop he was a master. Always ready to solve the things and listen to the questions. He loved those. Questions means brainstorming and that was his favorite task. Crosswords, chess and solving problems. And from childhood he got a dream of making a great weapon. He improved many during his work including gunpowder and poisons. But that only increased his hunger to do something which got more of him. Which he could call his own. Everyone likes

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owning one thing or another. Materialistic or not. And there was a reason behind all his education and his marks and his hard work and all the dreams. That he could achieve what he desired and could use his talent in a right way. It was necessary for his salvation and to find the answer for himself. That was it. And he worked for it like a robot. He brought all the essential tools books and notes etc. to home and started working on it. He had a blue print in mind for an ideal weapon. It was to make people numb on a big scale primarily but as he worked more and more on it, Jadgeesh become familiar with many interesting things. Human mind was behaving in different way and not like he wanted it to. It was accepting the substances when he tested it by cheating but not like written in the books by the experts and not even like he expected it to. Grey matter proved itself deeper than his whole imagination and knowledge of more than 25 years. Brain was taking the doses and was producing its own, very illogically. His wife had been sent to mental institute because she kept shouting whole night and it had become unbearable for neighbors and even for Jagdeesh. His testing on his wife had failed. But he remained unmoved. He raised his standards and work hours. It had to crack and it did. After two years work he made his killer liquid which wasn’t what he had planned but not even less than that. It wasn’t made to make numb or brain dead but to transform the whole structure of thinking. Cocaine and alcohol does the same thing but this thing was permanent with no going back switch. Even Jagdeesh didn’t know all aspects of this chemical. He had a few test on his wife, relatives, neighbors, mouse and rabbits. Everyone is showing fiery symptoms. Two neighbors he tested on disappeared and never been found. His relative killed his wife and parents. One of rabbit ate the hook of the cage which couldn’t come out of stomach while keeping it alive at the same time. But those tests were on his own and couldn’t be much helpful. And he didn’t have the access to much resources like before because the workshop’s security had become tighter. He got something precious but didn’t know what to do with it. Jagdeesh put all his knowledge in this thing and it was going to make him proud now. Perhaps. Because the guys upon him didn’t think so and they killed Jagdeesh proposal to test and develop it. Okay. Then they told him to concentrate on his job which was his actual duty and for what he was being paid for. Okay. Then they threatened him of suspension. Now that was the limit so he went outside the room with all the oaths of revenge he could muster. They had to give him what he was obliged to. His destiny was incomplete without it and these fools were trying to stop him. Well, to hell with them. He knew that one drop of the thing that was in his hand could damn everyone here. But that wasn’t in his plan.

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Reunion 2 Money wasn’t the purpose. All the remaining passes had been distributed between friends and relatives. Which included some of the students of his own batch. Fee wasn’t so high. Only 25 rupee per head. And it includes snacks and tea. Clearly his parents were doing this for the encouragement of their bright son. It was going to start at 10 P.M.. and people started showing around 9:30. Vinay was talking to someone in the backroom. He was clearly not interested in the crowd. For him, it was only like playing the piano another time. He was playing it here because someone else requested him to. Someone who was close to him and couldn’t be seen. Perhaps because of the dark or its nature. There were total of 110 seats in the ground where it was happening but guests were not going to be more than 80. No one looked excited because majority of the people bought the tickets for they knew the parents somehow professionally and personally. But it was a new thing so why not. It was Saturday evening so they didn’t have much to do this time anyway. There were many familiar faces among the crowd. There was principal, Jagdeesh in the second row. There was Sanjay and Sudhir who were sitting on the farthest seat they could found. They were looking at the back instead of stage because there were chances to encounter some old friends from school. Many juniors were there too in the front rows with their mothers and fathers wondering if there could be any more interesting place to waste time. Tanak was attracting the attention of the girls and women sitting there. Coming here was worth it now. And the strange thing was that Tanak wasn’t doing anything. He was only sitting there in the simplest shirt of the universe without a perfume and bath, without proper comb and matching clothes. Vinay’s mom-dad saw him and mother come in front of him quickly recognizing him as friend of Vinay. And did she? He was the most recognizable person she had ever seen. Mother was extra charming with him and asking him to stay for dinner which was after the show. He quietly, firmly and even disrespectfully told her, no thanks. That wasn’t taken as offensive by Vinay’s mother but she acted as if she had heard a flattering remark. She blushed and touched him on the collar of the shirt in an inappropriate way. Her husband was jealous and wondering if he had known her wife all these years. Why she was showing as if she was drunk in front of an average looking person. He held her hand strongly and pushed her to the side. She was acting like a sleep-walker now. Tanak got up from seat and passing between the female awes and sighs, he went to the back benches two seats far from Sudhir and Sanjay intentionally. They pretended that they didn’t see each other. But they were not on that place to watch the show but to reunite. Sudhir could feel the tension on this place due to Tanak and he remembered that Tanak was only a normal shy student in the class. Thought of a girl could make him sweat and erect. And now half of the girls here were finding reasons to go to the back of the ground. There was a fan at the back and suddenly everyone of those feeling a temperature rise. Tanak wasn’t looking glad. He was rolling his eyes to avoid looking directly inside someone else cornea because he knew its effect. That was enough to make anyone fall in love with him. There was no love and still it was. It was like god. You could believe it or not. And it was not under power or reasonability. Neither was it about faith or trust. It was just it. And it was just that. It was there and it was not. And it moved to make the world move around it. Some were in joy others are not. But that was secondary. Faith and love were between the happenings, technology, progress and alcohol

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consumption. It was it. Nothing else. One second you were all right and the next second you were gone. No complaints from destiny and fortune. Then you could see your face in the mirror and think about the person who had been there. He wasn’t too bad. Fun of a viewer was lost. This is nice to see things as it is even when you can only see the ground. But ninety percent of world respires in thoughts and there is a loss of control and knowledge. There are losses and rules. It defines itself. It is it. There were posters outside the stage. Posters with strange drawings of piano, shadows and animals. Posters which were saying incomplete poems of twinkle-twinkle little star. People liked the innovative idea of these. Though Vinay’s father couldn’t guess when he arranged such kind of publicity. Lights were dim outside the patio and cars were standing in random order wherever people could find the space to park. There were no official parking place. People used to stand their cars outside their homes or sometimes inside (if there was enough space). It was a residential area in which all this was happening. There was Deep talking to a child who was sitting with his mother. Deep liked piano voice even if he hadn’t got the invitation. Parents didn’t know his name and face. He hadn’t been a regular in Vinay’s home during school. There was only one occasion in which he had been there before and that was when he wanted a T-shirt for cricket match on foundation day of school. Things were different now. He got a non-bailable warrant issued against him and cold blooded murder of more than 50 children on his head. There was an excitement in coming out in open with such a flashy profile. It wasn’t any less than eating the heart out of five year old. Good old days. He was missing those and not much too. He could practice this hobby anywhere. Kids understand him more than anyone and respond more than adults. Response is the juice of life. There is no fun in action without an equal and opposite reaction. Like they calmed down right before being disfigured and crushed. He was so in love with them. Right now he was playing with this child and squeezing his little hand. Child would cry if deep would squeeze harder than that. So he was treating him as soft as he could. Mother was proud that her child was liked by strangers. These parents never understand their children. They are so selfish and only think about themselves. He used to meet so many parents on parents-teacher meetings and all of them were imposing their desires on kids by anyway in the world possible. That wasn’t fair like everything else. So what? Deep was waiting for the piano show here. He had no other plans today. Except that he was expecting to meet some of old fellas. It was awesome for him how the things turned out. Small kids, they become big and bad so quickly. It is inevitable. There is no way to stop them being bad grown up but one. If they wouldn’t grow up they wouldn’t be bad. Parents should have been more relaxed though as Deep was taking the responsibility of their children. Children were in right hands. Deep looked at the back seats. Those were filled by three familiar faces. What the heck? These guy were here and he was so eager to meet them. Sudhir, the business tycoon. Sanjay, the spoiled. And the third one was that nobody Tanak in cheap shirt. He wasn’t looking much different except…. Except…. Mmm… He was trying to avoid everyone. But why? He wasn’t a killer like Deep. Wait… Because… More than half of audience was staring at him… few boys and almost all the ladies of the front benches. Cheap ladies…. But that wasn’t possible. Why were they doing so? Had he become a movie star or something that Deep didn’t know of? It wasn’t a good omen to see unbelievable things. He saw that a two or three year old girl run to the back and climb nearby seat of Tanak

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and then on his lap itself. Tanak put her down and stood up. She was crying and touching his legs as if scared that he would go away. He picked her up so she would stop crying and sat down again. Sanjay and Sudhir were startled after watching such a captivating seduction. This guy could make a Casanova shy without much effort. Tanak got an aura that was making the air thicker. Little girl’s elder sister came in few seconds and sat near Tanak. She told him sorry that her sister was a nuisance. Then she asked for Tanak’s number without a tingle of hesitation. He told her some shuffled numbers. There was no need to tell the real one. She gave him her’s. To which Tanak nodded without bothering to note it down. She asked him if he wanted some cold-drink or coffee. He told her okay. Girl’s eyes widened like she had just lived a dream. She kissed quickly on Tanak’s cheek before running to get a cold-drink glass. Sudhir gave his hand to Tanak to shake it ‘hello, I am Sudhir. We know each other’. ‘I am afraid, yes’ Tanak received hand-shake. ‘And there is Sanjay. He had been closer to you than me’ Sudhir gestured. ‘Yes, I know him too.. So, what can I do for you two gentlemen? I heard you have become so successful. I am glad that you were my classmate once’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes, can you provide me any job? I can type so well and good in English’ ‘Well, I could. But not after what I have seen here. There are girls in my office’ Sudhir smiled, Which meant that it was only a joke. ‘Ow.. Come on.. That’s not my fault’ Tanak laughed. ‘I can’t believe it. What are you doing to them?’ ‘Nothing much. Only making them fall in love’ ‘This is not fair’ Sudhir told him. ‘Please, sit here and keep talking to me before she would come again’ ‘It bothers you? Yeah, I can guess. Man, I remember how shy you were during the school. You were even shy of pornographic magazine’. ‘This environment is stopping my breath. Please don’t talk about girls. Anything else. Anything you want. Tell me the price of shares and about the climate condition of three past years in Delhi but not this’ Tanak swallowed. ‘Okay… okay… relax. I was only reminding you some old memories’. ‘I want to forget everything and all. I am happy on my own and I would go to some mountain or something. Where there would be no one around to talk and see me’. ‘To tell you the truth. I want something similar like that too’. ‘You… you are perfect and rich. What’s wrong?’ ‘Well that is not the problem. That is the fruit. I am talking about the seed’. ‘I didn’t know that after school that you turned out to be this. A deep talking millionaire’ Tanak looked at Sudhir directly and Sudhir felt a stir in moods. ‘Ooo.. You are something. Don’t show me your eyes’ ‘Sanjay was waiting for you’. Sudhir called Sanjay and he joined them both. ‘So three are here. Where are the rest?’ Tanak asked. ‘I have seen Deep sitting in front’ Sanjay said. ‘What?’

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‘yeah. He is here’ ‘Is he mad or what? He is on the top of the most wanted of this city. This is the limit of daring’ ‘Maybe that is why he arrives here, to challenge the system. He is talking to that child. He is a fearless stupid. You remember how he hit Mrs. Kamla with a chalk once. He isn’t transformed a bit’, Sanjay told and Deep saw them all after turning his head. He winked to them. They winked back. No hard feelings. Good old buddies. As this all was happening, another one of them entered the whole scene. He was a lone poet and they were not in touch with him. ‘Hey, look who is coming’ Tanak told. ‘I know about Spandan. He does nothing all day accept writing on his walls’ Sudhir chuckled. ‘Writing on walls’, Sanjay asked, ‘what does he write?’ ‘Poems and essays and one-liners. I don’t know much. His room remains lock from inside and he keep doing things which doesn’t fit in ordinary mind’. ‘I want to write on my walls too’, Tanak moved his fingers on ear. ‘Poor… Hey Tapish. Come sit here man. Remember us?’ Sanjay shouted.

Reunion 3 They were making talks about their homes and time-tables. Now there were five of them and one was on stage, playing the piano and talking on his side. Everyone from the listeners was uncomfortable because of heat, moisture and the tea which wasn’t enough hot and sweet. Piano was pleasant though and everyone was enjoying it. Even those who were not expecting enjoyment. It was an Arabian theme Vinay was playing and he seemed to be totally out of consciousness. His eyes were closed and he was moving his lips and fingers were dancing on the keyboard. Principal and Jagdeesh were on the first row. Jagdeesh wasn’t listening to a single second. He got his Walkman loaded with personal favorites in both the ears. There must be

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many old songs and some speeches. Principal shot an angry glance at Jagdeesh. What kind of a person was this? Without heart and feelings. It was all because of him. Even that poster event of the city was somehow connected to this. What Jagdeesh wanted to prove? What he was expecting? Why didn’t he leave all of the boys alone? Nobody wanted him in the picture. Principal was angry because instead of helping to undo, Jagdeesh was still feeding his crazy ideas. Such a snake. He didn’t deserve any friendship or relation. He was the meanest person of the world. Boys were talking at the back and that was making him relax. They were talking about old memories and laughing and smiling genuinely for the first time in many years. They were telling their experiences after leaving the school. Nobody was quite like they used to be. They were sharing each other’s stories and moaning wondering at those. Vinay was watching them now while playing and showing his white teeth. He wanted to talk to old friends and he got up from the stage and went back leaving everyone half glad-half angry. They clapped for him to complete the formality. Then Vinay’s father came on the stage and apologized for his son’s disrespect. Everyone nodded (they understood the boy was nuts). And they left the ground after saying goodnight to each other.

Memories ‘Hey, thats Sana. I hated her so much. Wow. See.’ Sanjay exclaimed. ‘You hated everyone. She was a nice girl. She was the only girl who talked to me.’ ‘That is why you are nice to her. But really, watching her here is so good.’ ‘And look at her clothes man. All spoiled with colors and whiteners.’ ‘She is a poster-maker.’

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‘A female poster-maker?’ ‘True’ ‘Why don't she come inside and sit with us? Why is she standing on the door?’ Vinay curved his lips. Sana was standing right at the gate and seemed like she was searching someone. ‘Why don’t you say anything, Spandan? You have not said anything since you are here. You don’t like us or something? If you got any problem then let us know. We are here today to resolve all those old matters and to make a new beginning.’ ‘It is nothing like this, friends. I just don’t know what to say at this moment.’ ‘Do you have a tongue inside?’ Vinay asked. ‘You can say anything you like,’ Sanjay said. Spandan nodded and that was all. He didn’t say another word that night. Others accepted defeat. ‘I want to meet her.’ Vinay told Sudhir. ‘Do whatever you want. But please. I repeat. Please, don't call her here,’ Tanak warned him. ‘Why? You don't want to meet old friends. Or you stole her lunch at school,’ Vinay chirped. ‘You don't want to know.’ ‘SANA, duuuhuu,’ Vinay called her. It was his lifelong hobby - to do what he had been told against. ‘Pig... Never say that I didn't stop you,’ and suddenly Tanak had a weight on his right shoulder. As if there was a hand. But there was nothing. Something heavy and strong was resting near his neck. ‘Never call me a pig again. He doesn't like it,’ Vinay touched Tanak and weight lifted to the ease of Tanak. ‘All of you are fucking cursed morons. Nothing else,’ Tanak moved his shoulder in anger. ‘You don't know what you are doing. Even God forgives such mistakes.’ ‘hello, Sana... you are looking good,’ Sudhir told her. ‘Who is he?’ was the first question she asked and raised hand toward Tanak. Tanak acted like a deaf. ‘He is Tanak. You didn't recognize him? And he was scared of you,’ Vinay teased. ‘Oh! He is Tanak. Yes, I recognized you from the door. Just confirming to greet you nicely. Don't mind please.’ ‘He wouldn't. He is glad. Aren’t you, Tanak.’ ‘Let him speak for himself. Who are you? His uncle?’ Sana said. She felt something pushed her a little. She sat on an empty chair because of a sudden drunkenness came over her from nowhere. ‘Your drink,’ a girl came and gave the glass to Tanak. Vinay was having a tough time watching all this. First Sana and now this one. ‘Who is she?’ Sana asked others. ‘My girlfriend,’ Tanak said. Girl heard the most treasuring words. She was on the verge of tears but Sana interrupted. ‘You are joking,’ she was shocked. Sana asked others, ‘He is joking?’ ‘He is right. Who are you to ask such things?’ the girl came ahead slightly in a ready-tofight-if-needed position. ‘No... This is not true,’ Sana was scratching her jeans in anxiety.

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‘God.. She is behaving like his wife. What is going on here?’ Vinay asked to Sanjay and Sudhir. ‘That is what he was saying.’ ‘Re-union was a bad idea. Now let’s go home before this whole place would blow away.’ ‘Relax... we are just have just started,’ Sudhir asked Tanak to come with him. Tanak obeyed. They went outside and Sudhir used his high pitch to say ‘ARTS CLASS’. Sana (who looked shattered). Vinay (jealous). And Sanjay went that way. Assuming that Deep would come by himself. He was needed too. He completed the mess. Spandan remained inside. They were still so distinct to befriend him. More than ever before. They were self-talking about the whole blunder. Past six years. Suicides, blood, colors, money, sex, accidents, dreams, loneliness. But they were brave. They were fighters of life. They were standing in the storms with flags high. Few couldn't fight. Few lost and broke down. It wasn't their weakness or mistake. It was just their bad-luck to get caught inside it. To be at a wrong place at a wrong time. ‘Principal was inside in the front row,’ Vinay tried to start a conversation but no one replied. They were somewhere else. At some distance some poor kids put fire over old newspapers to warm hands. They were kicking on the fire to show daring. They saw few adults coming. One girl and other boys. Tired, hopeless, burning and evil. Kids intuition told them to give way as silently as possible. Intuitions shouldn't be missed. ‘See that? I made those,’ Sana told Vinay. Higher enough so Tanak couldn't miss. ‘Wow, nice. These are the posters of my show. Father told you to make these?’ ‘No, this is a gift. Aren’t these beautiful?’ ‘These are weird. What were you thinking while making them?’ Sanjay asked. Sudhir was hating his guts to criticize right over Sana’s face. ‘I wasn't thinking about anything. There were lines appearing in my mind and I moved my hands on paper accordingly. Are these ugly?’ ‘Not ugly. But strange. This one feels like we are going deep inside vast ocean instead of a piano concert. I wouldn't make it like that.’ ‘But you are not making it. Ever done anything except sitting at your home and eatingshitting.’ ‘Easy-easy... Sanjay, please,’ Sudhir stopped sanjay from reacting. ‘Why are you so quite’ Sana asked Tanak ‘What do you say about my posters?’ ‘Sanjay is right. You should do something else. Like embroidery or cooking.’ ‘haha... You are talking to me like I am your girlfriend,’ Sana told blushing. ‘No, I am trying to insult you.’ ‘Try harder. I am listening. You don't know how to insult people. You are so good that you can never degrade anyone.’

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‘you don't even know me,’ Tanak told her. That poster deserved an exhibition. Not this parkwall He thought. ‘I know you. I liked you since school and I thought that I would let you know after the school ended. But only today I got that chance.’ ‘What is she talking about? All these are white-lies. She didn't even know that a boy named 'Tanak' existed then,’ Vinay told Sanjay. ‘Isn't it interesting?’ Sanjay smiled. ‘Interesting, my stinking foot. You guys are here because of my concert and no one is praising me. I played so brilliant.’ ‘You were good. Trust me on that. Keep it up. But we are not here for concert,’ Sudhir clapped a little. ‘What else? You wanna play kho-kho?’ Vinay asked impatiently. ‘I am with Sudhir. He wanted a reunion,’ Sanjay told. ‘It is good to build old relationships. And to strengthen bond. We are bonded by fate, stronger than you think. We are joined by our misfortunes. Dark bonds are stronger. Destiny is good in its job.’ ‘Your piano is better than her posters’ Tanak said. ‘Now this is what I call a compliment,’ Vinay was happy after a long time. Being told better than someone else on face to face by an unexpected mouth was really a proud thing. But he didn't understand this. Why was Tanak continuously trying to show his disinterest in Sara? And why Sara was more and more interested in him, ignoring all his bad words. ‘You mean I was good too?’ Sara asked. Now she was making herself cheaper. She could get better than him anytime Vinay thought. ‘I want to do sex,’ every feet jammed by these words of Tanak. But its Sana's answer that was more shocking. ‘With me? Haha. Here? Now?’ Sara asked without any question over her face. She was ready to do anything on master's order. ‘You happy now? That is what I was trying to say,’ Tanak told Vinay. Sara held Tanak's sleeves. He didn't stop her. She had done too much of hard work to get him. She could have that much now. ‘Hello’ someone greeted from behind. ‘Deep... Welcome to the club. Tanak looked behind for the kids and they were still playing with fire. ‘come on Tanak... I am not a bad guy.’ ‘No. you are not.’ ‘you didn't introduced me to your girl.’ ‘This is Sana. She was with us in class.’ ‘I didn't know you two were together.’ ‘Keep quite about this,’ Vinay waved a hand ‘we all are doing the same.’ ‘Girls grow too fast. She is the one who used to wear boyish clothes,’ Deep laughed.

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‘I still do. But not openely.’ Sana said. ‘Even I conserve my old clothes and belongings. There are memories in those things. In things and habits,’ Deep was wondering why no one was taunting him about killings. He wanted them to. Perhaps they had too many problems of their own. Sitting in a park was a good idea. Some people were still their talking and walking. A boy approached Sanjay and asked if they wanted something to eat. He had a bucket of snacks, cold-drinks, cigarettes and tobacco pouches. He was a whole shop. And Sanjay knew that this boy could bring anything on special demands. Like heavy food or alcohol. Sanjay had been here before. They bought a few things. And Deep gave boy some money to buy him the light ball toy which he had seen outside. Boy had one such toy in his pocket which he sold it to Deep. Both were glad. They were still silent. Everyone wanted to say something but was unable to find the right words. They were heavy-weighted with their sins and shames. A good-thing to say was a difficult job now. ‘So... What you are doing these days? Deep?’ Sudhir asked, not knowing why. ‘I am a private tuition teacher. What about you?’ he asked while checking out that light ball. It was emitting light on slight movements. ‘Running business. This is boring. I missed you people a lot,’ Sudhir answered. Sanjay was playing with his cell phone and Sana was putting chips in Tanak's mouth. Vinay was still trying to digest everything going on there. ‘Don't pamper him too much. It won't do any good,’ Vinay told her when he found himself unable to see this drama anymore. ‘He is right,’ Tanak spitted the chips, ‘too much salt. These companies don't know how to make chips. They use too less potato and too much salt. And they suppose people would love it. People eat it because they had no other choice in starvation,’ Tanak said. Sana put the packet on the grass. Everything from Tanak’s mouth was a gospel for her. ‘Eat it with soft-drink. It will dissolve the taste,’ Vinay suggested. ‘It is not about the taste. It is just making me angry. Everything is making me angry these days.’ ‘Salt increases anger,’ Sana smiled. She opened her bag and produced a poster then gave it to Tanak, ‘this is for you.’ He saw that poster. It was a Desert on it. And one house was coming out of the sand. ‘Thanks,’ he said before putting it in his pocket. I made it with hands. All the steps from sketching to filling. She wanted some nice words. That didn't come. Vinay was playing piano in the air with closed eyes. Sudhir signed a visiting card and gave it to Tanak. Rest was obvious. ‘Come to my office anytime and take this along with you. Receptionist will send you straight to my cabin.’ ‘Thanks man. This is so generous of you. Just call me if you want meat or something.’ ‘I want meat,’ Vinay replied.

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‘You are sounding like pimps,’ Sanjay blurred. ‘I didn't know all of you are so big bores. Or I would never come here on the first place,’ Sudhir said while chewing on mouthful of potato chips. ‘We are so interesting if we will come to that,’ Deep said. ‘And these chips are okay,’ Sudhir threw chips on Tanak. ‘Eat this. This is an order. I am your boss.’ ‘No way. I am not going to do this for anything, sir.’ ‘Holy hell... you call him Sir?’ Sanjay said, ‘anyone can give you a job. Don't respect him. He is still that cock-neck Sudhir.’ ‘Shut up and eat it... Sanjay hold his hands. And Vinay you hold his motherfucking legs.’ ‘And I got whiskey too. We would push chips inside and pour whiskey upon it,’ Sanjay's hand went inside his jacket. ‘Good idea’ ‘No.. No one is going to do anything like this to me. I swear to God I don’t want to eat those chips,’ ‘Leave him alone,’ Sana said. ‘hahha... I wanna help,’ Deep came closer. ‘Don't touch... No’ and Tanak was grabbed from all sides. Sanjay was sitting on him. Sana stood up and her hands were on mouth. It was one o’ clock of the morning. All of them were laughing and taking gulps from that steel whiskey flask with a Nazi logo over it. Slapping and joking on each other. Teasing for old foolishness. It was their night. Trying to forget the past. From far away few people were looking at them. Thinking about life and its games. About the seconds that arrive with luck. Soothing sight of an old group of friend playing and dancing in the park. Ice for the eyes. Like listening to a song unheard from the drawer of surprise. Share of happiness that comes with coincidence. With a desire to be grabbed forever by unlucky hands.

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After one year Principal still runs that school. He prohibits anyone to go inside the chemistry lab without permission. He has appointed a psychiatrist in the school to help students in stress. Students are using this facility to get holydays and bunks. Sudhir is learning to live with his nightmares. It is more of a nessesary evil and he has accepted his condition to make it more bearable. And this success is because of his dream problem if he wants to look at the positive side. He is getting along with other batch-mates to make a ‘story-club’. Where they sit, drink, tell their stories and discuss their future plans. Tanak has started working for Sudhir. He calls Sudhir as ‘sir’. Even though, Sudhir has told him against it. His is recruited on the job of Personal -Assistant. So they remain with each other all day long. Though, the job is just an excuse for Sudhir to be close to a friend, he assigns Tanak on tougher jobs sometimes to play naughty. But no one can be naughtier than Tanak. All the girls of the office has started coming on time and finding the ways to get inside Tanak’s cabin as often as possible. Tanak likes a girl in the office who is also charmed by him but she is too shy to express anything. Sana goes on to make posters. Work is work after-all. And she likes to do this. So what if people think that a girl should do something decent. So what if they think that the posters are weird. This weirdness is the actual energy stored inside those papers. The love for Tanak is still with her. She actually believes that she had feelings for him during school. Her father makes angry face whenever she crosses him at home. That annoys her. These days she is making a banner for a major film event from a big production house. Deep lives in a rented flat and teach private tuitions. He just likes to watch television in his free times. No books and other amusements. There is no telephone in his house, not even an address board or name on the door. He doesn’t read newspapers. No radio. Sometimes when any student tells him about any major happening or blast etc., he widens his eyes in reaction. Where the reality is that nothing is stirring to him now. Jagdeesh is working on his substance to make it more sophisticated and potent. His trust on himself is strengthened now after watching the chaos it has created. He is more ambitious than ever. He is now living with his wife who has come back from the asylum. Vinay went abroad after getting the first chance to play the piano for an Italian circus. These days he is doing well and making money. He is engaged to an acrobat of the same circus. He can be seen playing piano between the clowns, magic and trapeze. Sanjay is handling family business. People complain about his unprofessional behavior time to time. Few even resigned because Sanjay was giving them a tough time. But he is a good old dog tail in a silk scarf. He is a father himself of a healthy boy and another one is on its way. He takes advice from Sudhir from time to time which only leads to more confusion.

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Spandan writes on his walls whenever he gets time.. Different things. of all sorts. He writes for newspaper and magazines too. In English and hindi. This was his way of earning bread. People write him letters sometimes after reading his stuff. This is his favorite part. To reply for the feedback. One day sub-editor told him to write a feature on tourist locations of Delhi because regular feature writer was on holyday to some tourist location in Mumbai. Spandan wrote it with all the enthusiasm and excitement he had. But this feature was so strange that manager read it three times before keeping it inside a file, which had some rare break through features. He didn’t publish it anyway but paid Spandan and never told him to write a feature again. He is good with freelance only. Not for a regular job. A regular job can corrupt the good out of a few people. It can take out the purity of soul if it comes to that. So for time being let him remain a freelance and increase the payments if he will demand. Good thing about him is that he never asks for money and never complains. Bad thing about him is that he is the most straightforward and innocent person of the world. God helps him. Neel loves his neighbor and he has no further plans about his career or future. Incredibly, girl seems to be melting. She picks up his calls and talks to him. Though, she is defensive many times but it is becoming smoother by time. Kamal was arrested again and his punishment resumed. They threw him in that cage again and show extra caution while feeding him each time. Sometimes they threw stones and cockroaches inside. They had no sympathy with him. He didn’t want any. All this sufferings ended when someone poisoned him. No one came to take the body. No one answered the call from police. New arts batch is great. They are good in studies and other extra-curricular activities. They are good in so many things that the list doesn’t end up. They aren’t scared of anything and they don’t like to be controlled. They think they are special. They want to prove something. To declare themselves. One can feel the warmth coming from that room while the study goes on. Like something is burning in there. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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The comics Atul had plans to create his own comics these days. He had named it “batch of 1999”. Right now he was busy in writing the outlines of the comics. About how this comics should have been. Whenever wherever an idea caught him he wrote it down in his notebook randomly. There were many ideas he had reached thought his hard research on the subjects chosen from Atul’s own past. Some of these ideas were - A guy who is a complete introvert. He is so stupid that nothing else is important to him rather than thinking. - This guy dies due to a tragic suicide which he did as a favor on himself and society. - A girl who is a bitch during schools and after. But things have changed because last time an old friend finds her sitting on the footpath, ready to do anything for a piece of bread. - She did the same favor on the society and her parents by jumping from the fourth floor. Good going. - Third one is a worthless player, who thinks that he owns the world but it is not true. He is unable to get a job on his own and working in a friends office licking toes. - Another guy is living in desperation. He has everything except that he is too scared to sleep and might even have regained the habit of wetting sheets. - Rich kids are always been foolish. But our guy here is the winner among all. He is going to be a father and still behaves like a kid. - A poster girl. She makes posters. Why on the god’s name someone would choose such profession. And I have seen one of her posters. You must not look at that, trust me. - A guy who can kill over a sneeze. But not to worry now because he is murdered like a dog in prison. Country is safe now.

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- Another one who had an imaginary friend. He should have an imaginary girlfriend. Yeah, that would be more useful. A principal who is trying to save the people who are already dead. Somebody stop him for god sake. This is only a try to come out of his own guilt, maybe.

- All these are tangling these days and there is a full chance of collision. - They are trying to make a happy club where all of them could talk to each other and socialize but this idea is totally ridicules. They need help not clubs. - Only one of them is doing something worthwhile now. He is working for a comicbook and progressing meaningfully in his life. Then Atul stopped for some-time. This much is an okay layout to start. Then he wrote roughly in the end of the page. - And they were all in the same class once.

Anurakt Srivastava Contact number : 011-22325809, 91-9711007817 Email - anurakts@hotmail.com

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