LoVe.EgO.

                                

He was at the table, rocking his chair to and fro,unaware of when to pause his train of uncontrolled thoughts as they crossed his mind. Well, they did when the rocking stopped. He dragged himself towards the table, switched on his laptop and began to write.

*****,

This letter is not written to dwell on how beautiful or sexy or alluring or whatever they say you are. And I am not bent on impressing you either. My primary purpose is to put forward my opinions, if feeling is the word I’d like to ignore at the moment. You know, we’ve been friends for quite a while. It didn’t take me much time to figure out that I was in no position to control the momentum of our friendship; though I was happy I had you to pal around with. At times, I thought to bring you round to this point .But I was naïve, to elaborate- scared that you might mistake me for another of those birds of a feather. Call it ego or stubbornness, I was adamant not to admit this to you. I convinced myself to defer it for a while. By and by, I thought you might, at least at some point of time during our conversations, sense the bloody thing. But I could feel your indifference. And yet, you talked to me about everything- the stuff usually no guy in his right mind would want to listen. But I did, for as long as you talked, I rejoiced.

I could no longer hold back the strange emotion as it inundated my mind at a stretch. I thought maybe this was the time to set aside some part of me and proceed. It was in the few moments around that nick of time that I decided to tell you. And when I did, the way I told you and the manner in which you perceived, I could hear the answer in my mind before you spoke the clichéd words, “I never thought of you in that way, I thought we were friends”. I remember the awkward silence that crept between us. It made me think we would never be friends again. But this is where you confused me. You broke the ice and accosted me right away. So that was that. We talked more thereafter and the graph never went down, and above all, I wanted to confess it you again, perhaps till you acknowledged it.

As long as I was speaking with you, It was peaceful in the limbo. I wasn’t going to give way. I was mentally strong, or at least I thought so. Jealousy was one of the predominant things that controlled me at times, especially when you talked about other guys. That, of course is genuine but I didn’t like the way I was being controlled. “Fuck! this is not me”, I verified. For certain, I was an arrogant, adamant, never yielding kind of guy who was tagged with the most stereotyped word ‘Attitude”. But everything seemed to shatter in front of you. You eventually did see through and in no time questioned my intentions. ‘Clarity’ was what you demanded. Well, I’ll tell you what, I don’t want to beat about the bush anymore, it’s high time I called a spade a spade. And that certainly goes with my intentions. Yet you question again. Why don’t you stop interrogating and start rejoicing at the fact that there is a guy who loves you so much and is so scared to trouble you that he isn’t expecting anything from you.

Yours whatever,

He stopped….

I hate group discussions

                                        
Forgive me.But I'm the kind of guy who calls a spade a spade.


It’s  placement timefor Btech folks . Figuratively speaking, the “turning point” for the final years who have been squandering away to glory for 3 bloody years .Never were my friends this serious about things .The heyday of their achievements was in 2007,when IITJEE/AIEEE/other bullshit exams promised to pave way for naive aspirants to undergo a momentous transformation into engineers. Really?

Here we are , in our new formal outfits ;backed up by de facto certificates; armed with a pseudo accent, trying to impress a goddamn panel which is gonna check how good we are faking at(Precisely,communication skills).

To begin with, I detest group discussions, for I cant stand the blatant bluffing and drunken shouting that’s done behind the tables.Secondly,why should I want to discuss “Legalization of gay marriages in India”, "Is Karan Thapar Psyched ?” kind of things?  Stupidly akin to discussing career graphs of Uday Chopra or Tushar Kapoor. Patience transcends beyond endurance when we are unwittingly requested to change our stance on the crock.That’s what I call genuinely contemptible,if contemptible describes it best.

With a presumption that the loudmouthed lad/lass is gonna get selected,the talks start off small, insidiously growing into an argument, finally culminating in inalterable altercations.We start talking, talking serious crap which comes nowhere near sanity, unconscionably betraying sensibility.Unsurprisingly, people who sit for a GD along with us are our friends. It’s then that we actually get to see the formal facet of our mates, who have never spoken to us without a tinge of slang, trying weird traditional gestures, referring to bizarre statistics, and not to forget the pointless interjections poked in the wink of an eye.You’d want to laugh in their faces, wouldn’t you?And when things are at the peak of chaos, when stentorian voices are disproving  gullible idiots, the schemer wakes up and says I think we are deviating from the topic,aren’t we? Dash him.Hell, he should be made to memorize a  100 Japanese names and reproduce them.The species whose characteristic trait is to keep babbling without leaving any space for others to talk, must be massacred along with Bollywood's most successful plagiarist,Pritam.


Well, being sober in GDs is the next worst thing you can do after trying to marry Rakhi Sawant.You either get tangled up in the talk or you are in juxtaposition with one of those  left over samosas in an ancient cafe running out of business.Because if you keep your mouth shut, you become invisible in the real sense of the word.Your presence is not acknowledged unless you infuse an idiotic note into the dramatic series of events.Finally,for those of you who try to dominate the hell lot with your senseless chatter, here's what I've got to say: "The moment you step outta this room,I will tear you limb to limb,head to toe, crush your bones till you bow, and dance the teen maar on your remains".

It comes down to this: You try to be diplomatic;you try to be soft spoken;you try acting like one of those NDTV guys- all the same, you are ousted.
Cry your lungs out;inflict colossal damage on the confidence of the people around you;occasionally thump the table hard as you stress your point- you're in.

We, the students-II

We all aim for things in the first year;dream of them in the 2nd;wonder about them in the 3rd; forget them in the final,and start something entirely different(Exceptions exist and exceptional people are not considered as a case in point here).Well, most of us join engineering unknowingly or perhaps, 'cause the neighbour's son was a Btech grad and is now an earnest expatriate in some corner of the world, earning millions and making India proud.Or may be because engineering sounds cool,or because the topper friend insisted on doing B.tech.To hell with the reasons anyway.Forget the 3 years, the culmination of this journey seems to be something we’re sure of botching up.It’s a limbo between everything and nothing-Like a Gowariker's movie has just hit the sets.

My friend once said,"Undergraduate education is a fraud.You are just shown how mean life can be before you embark on the real journey.Figuratively,a trailer of life is being shown and you start guessing the plot right away.When the time has come,there is one passenger,many vehicles and a multitude of destinations.Fascinated with the fictitious world behind every decision you might take,you are afraid too,for it might probably turn out to be a nightmare.So,whichever path you choose,the itching feeling of abandoning the other one remains."Well, I love to think so.

We can no longer stand the "I know what you did last summer" look the interviewer gives while perusing the resumes.We are tired of the trite lectures;sick of the silly grades ,and cloyed with the interminable squabbling that is done for extra marks. It’s unbelievable that we were being trained to hate the very thing we learned.If I ever run into the chap who introduced laboratory formalities(dress code,writing the same shit two times and FUCK what not),I would switch his place with the sole survivor of a disaster called Mental Krishna.Interestingly,had there been Oscars in India, I would dedicate them to my classmates and lab in- charges,for the former claim to get the right observations while the latter scrupulously verify them.Both be damned because the equipments have been screwed up since ET

We are irrevocably changed.The experiences we've had so far forces us to point finger at the system.Fists are shaken at the quality of education and heads are repeatedly banged against the walls as we look into the lifeless faces of the Lecturers.Things like these insidiously kill the engineers in us and mark the genesis of CAT asses and GRE bums.If we are clairvoyant enough to predict the imminent failure, it becomes incumbent that we should crack an interview and get a job no matter what!

What do we care about the system anyway?

Why should we give an antelope’s ass about the uninteresting classrooms and unfunny jokes cracked there?

How on earth must we be concerned about the way things are done?

Will never think of them probably.

One bloody job and that’s gonna solve the problem.Desperation would be a good fitting word.We wanna look into the eyes of those who’ve always took a dubious stance on our future( thanks to 3 drowning years of B tech life) and give them the briefest nod of relief.We don’t want to be robbed of the most precious thing we entered the campus with.Well,get a job;get your ass kicked;treat your friends;sit back and relax-is what we wanna do.We dont’want no future studies.Happiness at the moment is what we covet for.Fuck the future.Why should we be so optimistic about future in this awfully unfair world where a celebrity's comment dwarfs the death of a soldier ?
We are directionless,senseless,stupid,naive and whatever!

We are students.

KAATRE, a dejected lover.

Dear -------

I would have written this letter with a Parker,but never did I imagine myself scribbling words which are now pouring out from a stolen Reynolds refill.If you had to enter my world, what on earth made you do so when I was meandering on the highway of life? Confused though I was, It was a nice feeling because there was a bunch of nasty buggers who were always with me.But now! What have you done? You have kicked me off the highway into the barren lands where even a dog thinks twice before shitting.Why did you make me a defacto bridegroom of another Desi Romantic flick?

The phone bills,gifts,sold books,friends' ATM cards,bike,petrol all add upto a fucking huge sum.And my dad wondered when money became so volatile that it just evaporated the moment my account was debited.I had a hard time explaining that, girl!You just wiped off everything from my wallet.You have NO idea how much I have lied to people.You have NO idea how I cut my glorious wings of freedom,just for you.But now, you have left me all alone like a crumpled piece of a tissue paper floating in a finger bowl.I feel like an Albatross which was just eaten by a Piles patient.It is as pathetic as the list of songs that autodrivers of Hyderabad usually play.

Something is wrong with your species.Why do you have to put on such a thick make up though we know the bitter reality that lies beneath it.Your false pretense at putting up a serious face is unforgivable.Why do you want youself to be stereotyped as a Rajishri's girl though your semblance matches with that of Rakhi Sawant. What's wrong with your English anyway? You keep babbling those half-a-dozen words your ex-boyfriend used while abusing you.God save your soul.If there is an asshole already waiting for you from the moment he landed in the US or  Australia where he has greater chances of getting his ass busted up for free,then why was I enticed? Was it because of the sporadic flaunting of your mind blowing figure which was an excellent pastiche of beauty and charm? May be yes.But,Why was I bowled over by your stupid forwards and the endless talks?Why did you appear in the nightgown everytime I passed by your house?Why did I have to suppress my unending appetite for laughter and type the shit 'lol' to every Z-grade blonde joke you text?

You fooled me in much the same way Raavan's trailers fooled millions.You deceived me more than RGV decieves his producers.And this spawns an ultimate feeling in me.LOATH!

I hate you.
I abhor you.
I detest you.
My vocabulary ends here and so does the ink column in my goddamn 1mm ID refill.Look up the remaining synonyms in a dictionary and take your ex's help.

 Your Psyched Sweetheart,
 Kaatre.

We, the students.

Gone are the days when we used to be obedient ( out of fear or respect) to our parents and mentors.Our lives were circumscribed only around studies, a few hours of play, and the fucking coaching centres which impaired our basic foundation so badly that we mistook an exclamatory mark for a factorial.They confused us so much that we couldnt see anything with an open mind.They complicated our simple lives.It was like watching a Japanese-dubbed movie with Chinese subtitles.Anyway, we were diligent then.And followed a more sacred path in 11th and 12th when we used to stay back in the college for so long that even the gatekeeper used to wish us Good NIGHT.Precisely, we were no better than an unfortunate bunch of people trapped in a theater screening TA-RA-RUM-PUM.Nevertheless, we wrote a few exams and got into colleges with  our respective calibers or the so called standards which is the epithet of the stupid exams.

Engineering had just started,Life had just begun,It was the inception of our careers.Our degrees of freedom were increased as we stayed away from home.It was then that I was introduced to the most venomous word that insidiously spreads through us to this day.This 3 letter word was the fountainhead of self-destruction.Ironically,we never realized as it always vibrated between the lips and crushed us from the inside.Meet the word which massacred everything we earned,LYT.Show me one guy who doesnt use this word and I'll prove he is the 3rd cousin of the genius who designed POSANI'S brain.

I have no idea how Leonardo Da vinci felt when he finished giving final touches to his masterpiece, Monalisa, but I bet my seniors felt more satisfied than him after boldly flaunting their incredible collection of movies and a monosyllabic word which perfectly rhymes with corn.And we then realized where Emran hashmi drew his inspiration from.Apart from this, some of my dear friends started watching sitcoms too.However, we grew sick of them and waited for the next fatal blow which came once in every 4 months in the form of examination....spawning Psychos,Plagiarists, and desperate dogs( kasi kukkalu), who forced us to formulate a theory postulating that in future, people who miss CAT by a whisker would prepare for 1 more year and go for ICET, thereby adding a new dimension to dumbness.

Booze and Counter Strike then entered in the space between us.Some got addicted to alcohol and some religiously played the unending game.The ones belonging to the former easily got pissed off in a split second and started calling Barbara mori Barbarious. They scared the living hell outta people with their insane antics whereas the armed men belonging to the latter category lived in the virtual world and ceased to exist outside their rooms.If the guy who made Counter strike possible had ever watched the programmes telecast in channel V/Zee-telugu, then he would definitely have included a SUICIDE option in the mind-fucking game.

Well, 1 hour of conscious stroll in the college campus was enough for us to spot the most handsome guy and the most beautiful girl( the word beautiful is outdated,for a reputed pervert once insisted on using "sexy" as he believed that girls no longer tried to be beautiful).If that guy proposed to this girl,it logically followed that they'd be found hanging out together a few days later.But,they NEVER did. For those of us who grew up watching BOLLYWOOD movies( where Priya falls only for Raj,Rahul or Rohit ),witnessing real life couples was as an unacceptable realization.Wisdom dawned upon us and we started to abhor Yash raj and Karan Johar's movies, and sticked to more realistic ones.Eventually, the thought of a girlfriend excited our empty brains.We railed at GOD KNOWS WHAT and went berserk like the Tollywood audience do when they watch their hero die in a movie.We buried ourselves in deep thoughts like an obsessed JEE aspirant does when he gets the last rank in every attempt.

At the end, all we do is sit back and think.... and wonder what went wrong in life.What we were then and what we are now. By the time we epitomize our screwed lives, we'll be outta college.Its quite analogous to our exams where we get a clear idea of the subject only after screwing the final paper.Stupid life I say! what say?

Exclusive Interview with a B.tech student...

You might have read a Politician's Interview...
You might also have exclaimed with overwhelming joy after perusing a celebrity's chit chat in Hyd Times...
And NOW,
I proudly present my first ever Interview with none other than our typical engineering student.

Q:How have you been?
A: Are you paid extra for asking this question to to every T,D & H you Interview?Well, Currently I am as happy as the French football team.Happy?

Q:What did you learn in these 3 years of engineering?
A: Answers my friend,Answers.

Q: Answers to what?
A: To the questions that start haunting me exactly 8 hours before the exam.

Q:The answers are squeezed out of the knowledge you gained in these 3 years, arent they?
A: Not at all,I never arrogate the depth of my knowledge. The answers are the ones that  have to be copied from the temporary database which is created in the mind only during exams.It is  active only twice a semester;during the midsems and the end sems.And as the examination ends, the database is automatically terminated giving me a very slim chance of upgrading my permanent database which has remained almost unchanged over these 3 years.

Q: Why cant you be precise?
A: I never get marks for precise answers,my friend.So I stopped talking straight to the point.

Q: I guess you must also be having the so called Minor exams, dont you?
A: Yes, but I cant afford to strain my brain for a mere 10 marks.So I heavily rely on my fellow students who are willing to slog the whole night for a Deca.

Q: How can you think of resorting to malpractice?Dont you think its wrong?
A: Fortunately, I do NOT think. I just copy down everything my neighbour writes and simply hand over the booklet to the invigilator who always reminds me of KUTCHU.There are ofcourse,plenty of curmudgeons who have a corvine appetite for marks.While writing,they do not like being disturbed in the middle, for they forget the remaining part of the solution and start maundering in themselves from the first line of the memorized solution.Ultimately, after excessive pleading and threatening,they let me peek into their exposed scripts.

Q: You never got caught?
A: We are strictly given orders not to make noise.And they keep reminding us that ""IF WE GET CAUGHT, MY ASS ETC".So we take it for granted that they really dont mind if we arent found guilty.

Q:What is your opinion on the scope of the subjects you finished in the undergraduate course? To what extent do you think will they govern your command over your future endeavours? Do you think mass transfer will play a prominent role?
A: ummmmmm,Well,Ahem...AAL IZZ WELL, AAL IZZ WELL.

Q: How are the classroom sessions helpful to you? Are you one among the stereotyped back-benchers?
A:The sessions help us in giving a clear picture.At the outset, I was a student of unending enthusiasm and unrelenting attitude.I displayed my flamboyant face as I sat in the first bench, trying to get the slightest attention of my professor who excited to euphoria the moment he saw an over anxious face like mine.Over the years, I was made humble.My aggressiveness was assuaged.I then understood that I could never learn those cursed subjects.And all these lectures were pure paradigms to show how complex they eventually grew from their birth.
It was an indirect indication that it was impossible for us to learn the subject.So they followed the beaten path and stressed only on exam oriented questions which I refused to answer.Instead of becoming thirsty for knowledge, I became so satiated with Information that it was pretty difficult for any ounce of knowledge to penetrate.And yeah, after months of repelling, I ended up in the last bench...

Q: How is your love life?
A: Grrrrr....

Q: Finally, How would you describe engineering?
A: UNBEARABLE pain the ass!!

Therefore, I am in LOVE..

15 years of sensible life since 1995 has taught me that most people do things because of either compulsion or obligation.Do NOT try repudiating me because I can pick at least 6 out of  ten people who are not happy with what they are doing( Do NOT ask where I got the statistics from).Well, there are numerous books and movies on the same concept but let me tell what I feel.People dont realize that they have been gifted with  a power called Volition which very few make use of.This power to choose finds its inception in the form of an intense emotion which is as big as the universe but can concentrate itself in the four chambered mass of a pumping muscle called heart.It is LOVE.

Mathematically,Love is an Independent variable that gives a damn about other interdependent variables which collectively govern the equation of life.In these years, I have discovered my intermittent feelings towards life which shift from " life is beautiful" to " Life is a bitch".I have always believed that the mind is like one of those screens you find in multiplexes.Every moment is a scene and every scream of Joy or sorrow is the background score. Hence, I grew up watching all those movies which were scripted by the situations and unknowingly directed by me.

It was in the rainy season of July about an year ago that I finished reading the last page of THE FOUNTAINHEAD and felt the impact Ayn Rand had on me.By the time I closed the book, I fell in Love with two great things.The power of words( half of which were beyond the scope of my vocabulary) and the Story( which I fortunately managed to comprehend).It was then I realized that writing is all about the unsaid things and the everlasting effect it can have on the readers.The moment you hold  a pen, you are given the right to create your own world,make your own rules and probably a chance to ascend to the throne of a creator( If you are desperate to be one).And hence I decided to be a writer someday.But never knew I was going to fall in Love again...

The entire army was being decimated before stepping foot on the beach. Inspite of being frightened, the soldiers marched ahead.Some were blown to pieces.Some were looking for their friends who were all over the battlefield with withered body parts.One of them lay on the ground putting a hand over a deep wound that had ripped open his stomach. He was crying for his mother as another soldier behind him was searching for his detached hand.I watched TOM HANKS grieve over the death of his friend in the movie SAVING PRIVATE RYAN.It was the most heart rending scene I ever witnessed.I didnt feel like joining the army(they'd immediately reject me).I never dreamt of becoming an actor( as if I could).Instead, I felt a strong urge to portray something equally emotional in  content which a writer alone couldnt do.And when I recollected all the gripping stories and the memorable scenes I watched,there was only one man who was sitting behind the camera and guiding everyone.He was the one who truly understood that Cinema is a marriage of all arts.He was the DIRECTOR and I fell in Love with his work.

Well, THE FOUNTAINHEAD and SAVING PRIVATE RYAN are two of the very few peak points in the graph of my life where I was strongly driven by a passion.Life goes on, so does this enigmatic curve whose equation is unpredictable.Only Time knows the zenith of the next peak I reach.I shall base my life only on one of these summits  and not compromise myself with the slopes.The best sequence of words that that pump out from the heart everytime I am at the pinnacle of my thoughts is...

Therefore, I am in LOVE...

P.S  1)I have absolutely no idea about what it is to be  Director.

         2)Movies and books arent the only peaks.There was a time when I decided to become the President of The Republic of India.Alright!even you can laugh,like I did.

The ultimate sinner

Did you ever hear an extremely unpleasant sound coming from the epiglottis of an insane asshole who cannot differentiate between a wash basin and a Pavement?( you are right, worse than SRK in MNIK) If you did, then you just heard  a spitter getting ready to extrude ..... (I dont even know what its called,YUCK!). Spitters are as ubiquitous as cellular phones in a country like India whose land and people are being screwed in every possible dimension.Be it the politicians who disclaim accusations of grafting or the religious charlatans who mislead people who are still optimistic about them.Anyway,the point is, Spitters continue to be a pain in the ass to a large section of people.

Perhaps it all started when VENKATESH did the dirty job in the movie GEMINI which was telecast in GEMINI TV  itself after a few weeks of  its release.Or perhaps it started even before AB Snr's DON.Instinct drove me to stick to the latter though.Good, the hero is always some one to look up to, someone we all eulogize. But don't you fucking devastate my country!Why do you think are the signs like "spitting prohibited" and " Dont pass urine on the walls" for? It wasnt meant for the dogs you dumb heads!

" I want all the spitters to be hanged to death" says an 18 year old boy who received an outre design on his white shirt while speeding past an RTC bus in his newly owned bike."He just spat out from the window when I was unfortunately in the path of the fucking projectile.When I abused him, he stuck out his silly tongue and closed the window." said the boy cracking his knuckles.

"I wish the scientists come up with an automatic spitter detector which can spot spitters in a split-second and annihilate those bodies hosting one of the most execrable sounds in the history of mankind" a young girl exclaimed.

" I'll remove their footwear,snatch their belongings and coerce them to walk down the pavements and streets with bare legs.Only when I am as satiated as a Sadist, I'll return their possessions.And I'll make them repent their foolhardiness towards Govt properties." rails an aspiring civil servant.

Well, as long as the shit is in your mouth ,its absolutely fine.But when you stop thinking where, why,how,I am a human being and go ahead with YOU KNOW WHAT, you have committed an egregious mistake which can be tagged along this century's greatest sins like RGV ki AAG and POSANI'S RAJAVAARI CHEPALA CHERUVU( yes,its a movie).Ofcourse, SIMHA managed a magnificient miracle( it should have been a debacle of the decade though).

The next time you spit, just look around and discover how many abhorrent faces are staring at you.DO NOT lacerate the humanism in humans, you'll come face to face with a pissed off monster who just happened to watch Pyaar Impossible.Lastly, when asked how to tackle these kind of people, a computer science graduate,Avinash says " I'll join hands with a qualified doctor and programme their necks in such a way that the default spitting direction is towards the sky,exactly perpendicular to the very surface which they have been effacing since Pan parag,Killi and Goa flooded the markets.My programme woud then immediately restrict their movements in all possible directions so that their faces would be splashed with a velocity of  sqrt. 2gh.That way, they'll at least acquire a bit of commonsense and probably learn interesting facts about Kinematics."

P.S I find solace when I sit back at home and hope all the above wants and wishes come true some day....

E-study,E-style,E-status@ college

 TYPES OF GUYS YOU NORMALLY FIND AT COLLEGE

Studious: They are ofcourse, the ones who study well the ones who get good grades.They are lost in their own world which comprises of a room( a mini library), the class room, bathroom and absolutely no room for enjoyment( typically defined).They do enjoy reading( text books)and writing( experience immense pleasure in disgorging their information-inundated minds).Its festive season for them during exams when they take head bath,wear new clothes, buy a new set of pens, pencils and prepare themselves for the D day.Thats all I can talk about the lives of these cadaverous creatures.They are as boring as all the mass transfer lectures put together.

The ladies' men: Well, these male fearing morons are always seen with girls.I doubt these guys are guys only in their semblance and really are an awful bunch of silly girls who even laugh at TV anchor OMKAR's jokes .Try accosting them and they will ignore you more than Deepika ignored Ranbir.The trajectory of their life has only footsteps of girls.Why on Earth do you always wear a bag? as though you have some important work to finish off.I bet there will be unwashed under wears which urgently require attention.Do you need a bag to carry an identity card?

Playboy/Romoeo: He is never found in a group.He is found either with a girl in some corner of the campus or in his room alone, doing GOD KNOWS WHAT.Even if you sell all of your anscestral lands and permit yourself to show your audacious attitude by betting on repudiating me, you'll find me happily ploughing your fields after a few years.This guy has some peculiar features.He never takes a bath ( a miscellany of perfumes in his stinking room is the proof for it).Why does he unnecessarily wear pants when all he wants to do is flaunt his brand new "Jockey" which sells in weird colours?? And not to forget the low waist jeans which horizontally bisects his bums.Thanks to his conscious nature of wearing something inside that half the campus remains in a gusto mood else there would be a plethora of patients with giddiness and abrupt puking.I pity his girl.

The rocking guys: Poor fellas! God  screwed their lives.They accidentally landed up in a wrong place.They are aggrieved descendants of Kurt Cobain and Brian Johnson and were unfortunately blown away and brought to India.They are easily neglected and barely noticed in the campus.Its very easy to identify them.The epithet of these rockstars is their appearance.They are often seen wearing T-shirts which contain pictures of Homicide suspects holding guitars.When I walk up to them I almost ask "Boss who are these people?" before realizing that the group photo of those jail mates emblazoned on the T-shirt is actually a rockband.Fine,you are big admirers of them.But why the fuck do you jeopardize your gender by growing long hair which literally dances around you neck? People actually think and discern which sex you belong to when they  watch you from behind.It ironically takes more time than solving the easiest question in EAMCET.And whats with those piercing at weird places?I feel like tying a rope to it and attaching the other end to the engine of a Rajdhani express.You will get body piecing, thanks to me.Lastly,pull those pants up and tie a knot around your waist.We dont encourage ass-exposing.Please dont try rendering the acclaimed rock songs.You'll destroy their beauty and end up in a cacophony.

Aawara hoon: Say hello to the most useless guy in the college and say sorry to the college for spending money on him.One good thing about him is that he has vividly decided what to do in the campus.He wants to smoke,drink and no nothing else.His dogmatic beliefs that college education is useless keep him occupied with a Knockout and a Kings Gold flake packet.His life is miserable but his intentional indifference towards things is as annoying as the silver jubilee function of duds like PANCHAKSHARI.Perhaps, old people who have taken voluntary retirement lead a busier life than him.He vitiates innocent ambiverts who equivocate between studying and boozing around.He is gibberish when drunk and babbles all the emotional movie dialogues in the state of desperation.He rarely feels the insidious darkness growing inside him.WTFs up with your beard? It is also difficult to get a vague idea of your face.ASSHOLE!

Miscellaneous: They are less important considering the current context.There are guys who are texting 24*7.God knows if they have a girlfriend but they sit right beside  and ignore you.They literally dont acknowledge you existence.They pluck you out from their minds.and you will be left alone and single like actress Rekha.The fucking cell phone is more important to them.I feel like grabbing it and sticking it up their asses.Bloody buggers.Piss me off!

There are ATTITUDE flaunting guys.In India we have plenty of them.They make an optimum use of the damn 8 letter word only because it sounds cooler than Hardwork and Practice.Typically, students develop their resumes but these pretentious Bastards brush their bragging skills.They are found wearing  T-shirts which have smart quotes.Even if one of them threatens you,not to worry because he may appear as big as a Dinosaur but his voice is as audible as an ant's scream

There are guys who fight voraciously.Even if you accidentally happen to touch them/accidentally scratch them with your little finger , he'll galvanize his instincts and pick a fight with you.He must be sent to the WWE where he'll get a taste of Rikishi's ass.He is as intelligent as the antagonist of a typical faction movie.Be chary of his friends because they are the scornful scumbags who ignite unnecessary sparks in the minds of these dumb wrestlers.



P.S: 1)I did not cover all the categories, only the famous ones that popped up in my mind.
       2) Ignore grammatical errors

Open letter to GOD....

First things first.You may be magnanimous at heart, a creator at work and people may praise your munificence but for me you are the best obsessed puppet master in this awful world.In the end you screw them all.I have a hunch that you enjoy cutting the strings more than pulling them around.Or else why, out of all places would I end up in an engineering college where a fucking single digit real number is gonna decide how good I am?Why would I repent every moment on the night before exam when I'll be forced to mug up rubbish while my parents at home think I am STUDYING engineering?My career seems as exciting as that of Sania Mirza.Even if HARIKRISHNA returns to movies and strikes gold at the box office,I'd still be a loser.

 I bet you have laughed enough of your ass off watching me grapple in the exam hall trying to peek at the scribbled formulae on my bare legs.And how can I ever forget the sharp-tiny bits of paper which were kept hidden in some corner of my body for the invigilator felt he'd do me a favour by surfacing his Poirot instincts and catch me red handed. Betraying my pride, I'd beg,crawl and grovel for a parchment that would keep my ass outta college for the whole summer vacation.I've had enough of it!!

 I was always filled with chagrin over my dismal grades .Occasionally, I felt a revulsion spawned in my heart which started moving to my head with a positive note.I never realized it had been suppressed brutally until I received the grade card of the next semester from my professor who stared at me like a Balayya's fan watching a reality show."Its too late my boy" he said.

Damn!  there is 100- day function for even movies like SIMHA.Why cant you throw a narrow beam of light into my life.You are tendentious GOD! I swear! you are biased.Ironically for my life which is going as smooth as a MiG plane, there is another palpable thing called COMPETETION.As awful as it sounds, It adds agony to my life.And who are these 9 pointers anyway? your favourite pampered puppets? They make my life miserable.Wherever I go,I'm always made to stand behind these 9 pointers like a side dancer shaking his ass miles behind Rajinikanth.Im like the 98th bother of Duryodhana, people dont even know my name.Im as famous as the apprentice of the main antagonist in a shelved Doordarshan serial.My existence is so obscure that even the gatekeeper of my college cant recognize me.I bet,in future you'd torture these 9 pointers as much as you torture a pregnant woman in her 9th month.You stab everyone in the back and say you are actually patting  backs.( Super covering I say).And I doubt you have stabbed me more than Brutus stabbed Caesar.

You did another mistake by showing me LIFE as it is,dirty and stinking.I have actually become so pragmatic and selfish that I never think of others.Its only the forlorn attempts to save my ass in this miserable place called college.You have spread opened many things before me.I have no idea what to do.Im skeptical about my priorities.I am as confused as a monkey with a Rubik's cube in hand and probably as nervous as a bitch surrounded by street dogs.And still when I am plagued with these difficulties, you seem to be so enticed with Balayya that you gave him a hit.NOT FAIR!
When Im down a cool dude pops up in front of me wearing a t-shirt which says

*&()^%$( supposedly In chineese) the next person who asks me what it means will get a punch on his face

I feel like going to chor bazaar and purchasing a t- shirt quoting

"I want the fucking subtitles or I'll decapitate your entire family race."

I know, even if I go..you will perhaps make the most lackadaisical professor conduct a surprise MIDEXAM the same day.That is the power of the abhorrent feeling you have towards me and vice versa.

At the end of the day when Im trying to get some sleep, you rewind my memory and flash pictures of all the good-looking girls in my mind.I, like any other puppet of yours forget to atleast guess my goal and start thinking about the damn girls.Some of them,ofcourse remain in my mind.But doing so you are actually mocking at me for not having anything in life.Luckily, I have friends who share a similar pathetic life.You may puppetize many lives but remember 1 thing.You can pull the strings as long as you have those hands.The more the number of puppets, the less is your hold over them.Eventually we will be liberated from your clutches .The day you dont control things is nearing GOD!

Though I have been at the pinnacle of pessimism throughout the lines, Im quite optimistic about this.I can bet my life on it.The countdown starts....Basti me sawaal!

-An extremely frustrated engineering student

P.S: Apologies for using slang.But a frustration is never like an Obama's speeech.

17- A neglected possesion

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16-The Diary heralds

"Its a bit confusing, but makes sense" Prashi nodded.Pottu was silent.
" So why were these torn off?" Prashi asked.
"She tore them off even before I started spying on her.So when I went through  I didnt find anything attracting about Prashi.As to why she tore off, I thought you were good at guessing....".. Prashi didnt speak.

"Because the bridge she built was starting to collapse.She slowly started discovering that Prashi was innocent afterall.He was almost vindicated in Sasha's mind.At the same time she couldnt betray her instinct so she kept the papers with her all the time " Raman said as he slowly smiled for the first time.He continued
"Even tonight when she was out in the woods for a regular stroll, she kept the pages with her.If you remember, she was being very kind to you..But when she sensed someone around, she slipped away quickly and in the midst off her running, that one page fell of her pocket."

"What prompted her intermittent views on Prashi? she was sticking to her instinct, right?" Prashi asked.
"Yes, she probably came across something that was fair enough to support Prashi." Raman asserted.
"What could that be" Pottu asked
" You told me Pottu.Its about Prashi's absence.I remember you saying Prashi wasnt in the town." Raman told Pottu.
"Oh yes, I left on August 24th and came back on sept 2nd." Prashi said
"I see , she somehow came to know about your absence and she then started to doubt.Prashi wasnt there almost the whole time.Thats the point" Raman said.

"After I asked you to spy on her, I once told her about how one of my friends, Prashi who lived nearby didnt knew about Isha's incident as he was outta town a few days back" Pottu spoke silently.
"So it was you who partially assuaged her revengeful intentions" Prashi said.
"But how did she end up dying?" Pottu asked as he neglected Prashi's remark.
"The moment I saw her corpse, I knew that she must have written something in her diary.So I made it a point to immediately seize it" Raman said as he took it out from his coat and flipped it open as Prashi and Pottu rushed forward.

15-The pseudo Isha

"Isha never wrote anything on August 23rd" Raman stated as his revolver vanished behind his Blazer.
"Then what was the piece of writing we just read?" Pottu asked.
"Its just a pseudo entry, fake one.It was written in such a way so as to portray Prashi in a negative manner or you can say an unreal Isha penned down every word".Raman asserted.They didnt speak

"Now! who wanted Prashi in a bad light?" Raman asked as he could feel the excitement in his voice
"Sasha ofcourse" Pottu said as exchanged consensual looks with Prashi who abruptly asked " but the handwriting....how could you differentiate that? and why would she take the pain of writing a fake note when she was already intent on killing me?".
" Do you remember how Sasha arrived at a conclusion that Prashi was embroiled in her suicide?" Raman asked.
"yes" both of them said.
"Well, there was no proof that you were actually involved in inciting her suicidal tendencies.It was only her instinct that drove her to point her finger at you.You understand, there was no solid proof to incriminate you which eventually worried Sasha"

"There was this gap between instinct and proof.As time passed, she began to doubt her instincts and grew skeptical if it was a decision taken hastily.But out of her love for Isha, she never gave in on her instinct.Since she dint have any other clue,she took it for granted that Prashi was somehow the accused.So she constructed a bridge between her instinct and proof.She rewrote all the missing pages of Isha's diary.She wrote it in such a way that when she doubted her instinct again, she would read those commencing pages of Isha's life and convince herself that Isha would have written the same.So those missing pages were like a proof to her that Prashi indeed, was guilty.The pages were like a series of events which dramatically described Isha's love failure.And it was quite clever of her to mimic her sister's handwriting.Nobody would ever check Isha's diary but still she concentrated on getting the exact replica of her sister's writing style which ofcourse,couldnt deceive my eyes.She did this because she probably didnt want to read her own writing style.Possibly to get the feel of Isha's writing." Raman finished.

14- The anticipated truth

Raman moved over and checked Sasha's pulse." She has just died" he remarked as he took out his revolver.
"listen" he dragged Prashi towards him and asked " Check out there is power in the neighbouring house.Quick".Prashi rushed to the veranda and returned after what seemed to be 10 seconds.
"yeah.only this house is dark" he said and tried to divert his focus from Sasha's face.
"Good. switch on the fuse, will you? I bet it is not how it is supposed to be" Raman said.

Prashi took a few more painful minutes to spot the fuse switch before discovering it was actually turned off.He switched it on as the tube light of the drawing room started to flicker.The only other room to be illuminated was Sasha's bedroom.
"Wait right here.I'll go check the other rooms" Raman left them.Prashi and Pottu felt alone as they kept staring at the corpse.They felt very vulnerable as the very sight of Sasha raised questions in their mind.Did it end with the killing of siblings? Who was next?

Raman returned after a few minutes as all their questions were momentarily suppressed."There is no one in the house.The backdoor is open" he gasped.
"Who killed her?" Pottu asked.He was no longer crying.
"Shall I call the police?" Prashi asked.
"No" Raman glared at Prashi.
He summoned both of them to the sofa beside.Pottu started stammering " Are you...Are you.."
"Relax Pottu.I will tell you everything" Raman convinced as he cleared his throat.

13- The emperor of all emotions..

The three of them stood before the door as Raman got impatient." I think something is wrong.Why is she not opening the door?"
"It is 3 in the morning.You know it takes time, We are normal human beings unlike you.Wonder where didya get this detective from" Prashi shrugged as Pottu managed a chuckle.
"You wouldn't think the same if you happen to have a mind like mine" Raman asserted.
"What is it again?" they both asked together.

"On August 23rd, Isha didnt write anything" He said.
Pottu's heart skipped a beat."What are you babbling about" Prashi angrily asked.
"But we just saw" Pottu questioned...
"Open the door.I'll let you know.Open the damn door first" Raman spatted.
"Im trying" Prashi grew impatient has he slammed his fist against the door.Pottu looked at both of them.He fumbled in his pockets and took out a key.The slamming stopped.Pottu was being stared at by 2 curious pairs of eyes.

"This is a duplicate key I brought along with me.Just in case.Sasha gave it to me long back.She had the original one though but wanted me to keep the duplicate" Pottu said as Raman snatched it and unlocked the door in seconds.They were now inside.It was dark.All lights were turned off.Prashi moved towards the wall and turned on the switch.Nothing happened.

"Turn on your cell phones" Raman commanded as Prashi n Pottu followed.They were in the drawing room and Prashi felt his leg brush against the blunt edge of the sofa.He heard a click as Raman turned on his torch.The first beam of light fell on the frozen and petrified face of Sasha.Her eyes were swollen.Prashi was taken aback.He tried to control the abruptly spawned feeling which began in his spine and traversed up as it made the hair on the back of his neck to rise and culminated to an explosion when it reached the heart.Prashi felt his hands shiver with the emperor of all emotions, fear.The moment Pottu saw the hollow-lifeless face of his friend, he knew he was going to let out a scream which would surpass the limit of his trachea.Raman on the other hand didnt avert the beam's focus.He came to a mental standstill.He was nonplussed.He turned to Prashi who also seemed to be disconcerted.Pottu collapsed and started crying.It was an appaling sight as he felt two cold hands on his shoulders.He got up as puddles of tears reached his lips.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked as he felt the bitterness in the otherwise salty tears.Neither of them answered....

12-The lacerated feelings..

The three of them pored over the scribbled entry.

August 23
11:00PM

                            Its embarrassing and hurting.He doesnt even look at me.Yeah who would? I have no friends, no fun.I am not the kind of girl guys would stare at.I look at him, he never reciprocates.He was so arrogant when I tried to approach him.I love him but he is starting to lacerate my feelings.Dr. Sharma asks me to concentrate on my studies and insists that I should forget this for a while.But I cant.Its so disturbing.Please God take me away..

"Dr Sharma is Isha's Psychiatrist" Raman said as they finished reading.He didnt move his eyes from the page.
"We could infer that" they both muttered.
"And there is nothing that we can extract from this entry.It says nothing except the stupid doctor giving stupid lessons to an innocent girl about a stupid boy named Prashi" Pottu remarked.
Prashi was quiet.He was in another world.He wasnt even hearing to what Pottu was babbling about.Prashi was wondering.
" Even I am wondering how could such a nice girl fall in love wit you" Pottu maundered.
"The problem" Raman interrupted "with you two is you are so sensitive towards deviating from the point of focus" he sighed.

"Its futile.We will go to Sasha's house now" Pottu eagerly said.
"I agree" Raman said as he got up and took out a cigarette.
"Not in my house" Prashi said as he and Pottu headed to the door.

11-The sient struggle

A few houses away Sasha was struggling as a pair of gloved hands  were clasped over her bare neck, letting her face become blood red, her eyes oozed out.Her forlorn attempts were obvious as she was thrust back on the sofa.Her hands were slapping aimlessly across the broad shoulders of the person whose hands wouldn't move from the spot.She tried to scream.she kept trying until she felt both her breath and energy being evaporated into the moist air.The person over her looked at nothing but the horror in her eyes and the layer of sweat that covered her forehead.Her sight slowly started to blur as the bare grappling legs froze to defeat.The hands retreated.The cadaverous appearance of Sasha's body was a glaring indication of her exit from this world. A brief sound of sharp footsteps was heard.The refrigerator was opened and a bottle of water was emptied in seconds....

10-The missing pages..

By the time it stopped raining, the conversation among the three reduced to hushed voices which dared not to penetrate the drawing room.Prashi, however was almost in the same mood except that he appeared quite excited.
"So are you trying to say, she actually came to kill me?"He eagerly asked
"Yes"interrupted Raman.
"I have a plan.Its simple.I'll go straight to her house and tell her I never met Isha."he looked at the two.
"You could have done that in the beginning itself but Sasha doesnt trust anyone except Isha's diary.Only if we had any access to the missing pages in the diary,we could do something." the Detective said.

"Missing what?"Pottu asked.
"Missing pages"He took out a piece of parchment from his blazer pocket and spread it open.The rustling of the paper was the only thing audible in the room as the 3 came closer.
"Prashi, what was Sasha wearing?" Raman asked.
"A woollen sweater.It was hardly visible in the dark.And she did wear some kind of gown "Prashi said when Pottu started grinning.
"What is it?" Prashi asked irritatingly.The grin vanished off his face when Pottu came closer and said "Gown you say...as if shes a little girl".
"Whatever" spatted Prashi.
"Excuse me but that is not our point of concern." Raman interjected as he started glaring at Pottu who gestured with his hand as a sign of apology and as a signal to continue.

"While I was chasing her back earlier, I mean I dont call it a chase because I didnt even know in which direction she was going.Since she was accustomed to that area, she easily fooled me in the dark"
 Both of them didnt speak.
"It was then that I accidentally stepped on this piece of paper" he pointed his finger towards the ugly paper which looked like it had just been disgorged out of dustbin
.
"This page resembles the pages of  Isha's diary.So I have started to suspect that she has found the missing pages of Isha's diary.Before you jump into questioning me.I will assert a few facts.Firstly, I was quite skeptical about Isha's death.Its not at all normal to find a girl hanging from a tree.I think it wasn't a suicide.Well it would have been an obvious fact if she was normal.But the kind of reputation Isha had, she was inured to do strange things so people took it for granted that she might have actually committed suicide.Even I thought the same way as I travelled through her diary.I was so engrossed in it that after a few pages I actually forgot to look at the dates.She died on August 31st".

The thing she wrote about falling in love was on August 19th.I turned that page to find an empty one but I never looked at the date.I have hunch that it was not 20th.19th I remember because it was the last entry.Now, when I discover a page from her diary dated 23rd August,I believe I was deceived by someone who scrupulously tore off the remaining pages which contained information about her subsequent feelings or  a sequence of events which eventually lead to her death.Had she written irregularly,the pages should have been torn  sparadically.Nevertheless if we just trust that she wrote everyday, we must be convinced that we have found one of the pages."

"How do you know its a page from Isha's diary" Pottu asked.
"It indeed is.The same font size,the same thickness of paper.You have my word.This is a page from Isha's diary." Raman tried to convince.
"Where does Sasha and her dress fit into this picture?"Prashi asked as he glanced at Pottu who seemed to have lost in thoughts.
"Its because I think Sasha managed to find those papers tonight." Raman said.
"And one of those papers fell off her grip or pocket as you say.But where do you think the papers had been all these days" Prashi asked.
"That" Raman sighed " I cannot say".
"Oh yeah so she must be having the remaining papers."Pottu declared.
"Thank god he understood" Prashi beamed.
"Now what?" Prashi asked.

"We look at whats written in the Aug 23rd page.If we can comprehend anything, we go straight to Sasha's home.If we cant" the detective paused.
"We'll go to her house anyway" Prashi finished.

9-Prashi's lame prank..

By the time Pottu,Prashi and Detective Raman reached home, they were already breathing hard and appeared exhausted.While Pottu and Raman rushed to the refrigerator for chilled water,Prashi paced into his room,grabbed the ipod charger and started switching on his laptop.Pottu was looking at Raman who seemed to be deeply discerning the situation as both of them seemed to gulp down galleons of water.
"Do you actually want to believe what you heard earlier?" Raman asked as they entered the drawing room and seated themselves across the glass teapuoy.

"My belief systems were shaken a few moments ago.Dont ask me anything"Pottu said.A terrified atmosphere filled the air between them which was vitiated by Prashi's interference.
"You guys wanna have something?"he asked.They both looked at him.He had already changed into his Reebok tracks and a grotesque Nike sweatshirt which was glaringly a fake one.His appearance mollified their excited state of mind for a moment.Raman raised his hand and said "Beer.Anything except knockout".Prashi ignored him and turned to Pottu who murmured "Coffee".

Prashi started walking back when they heard the first roar of the condensing clouds in 4 weeks.He punched his fists in the air as he made way to the kitchen.
"Whats with him?" Raman asked.
"Nothing.He loves the rain."Pottu said.
Ten minutes later Detective Raman found it difficult to sip the most disgusting coffee he ever had.He would take a sip but the liquid would be on the verge of being choked out of his mouth.He finally placed the cup on the teapuoy and tried to act like a good guest.He turned his focus to Prashi.
"You were lying, weren't you?"he asked.

Pottu paused as he looked at both of them.The aroma of the coffee filled his nostrils as his heart skipped a beat.Prashi remained silent for sometime before saying "yes" and went on with his coffee.
Pottu tried to hide his humiliation by remaining unsurprised.He didn't speak till he finished the coffee.Prashi got up and marched a few steps before sitting beside Pottu.He put a hand on Pottu's shoulder and said "Its okay buddy.I too have fallen for Pranks.I, of course remember Isha though I have never spoken to her.I thought it was a lame Prank but never knew you would take it seriously.I mean was it so contextual?? Did you get too frightened??"

Pottu didnt look at Prashi.Instead he looked up at the detective who gave a brief nod.Pottu finished his cup,wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and cleared his voice."Its time you need to know a few things Prashi"

8-Enter; Detective Raman

"Prashi!!  bastard where are you?" Pottu came sprinting in the dark.He was in such a momentum that he couldnt help colliding Prashi before both crashed down on the ground.Prashi fell on his back while Pottu landed on his friend

" Dont tell me you have this weird habit of running around in the dark" Prashi pushed Pottu aside.
"Are you okay?" Pottu asked in a worried tone.
The detective came running by and stopped before them" I followed her but it was too difficult in the dark.I lost her" He kicked the foot of a nearby tree.Prashi got up, pointed his finger in the detective's direction and asked " Who are you?"

"I am detective Raman.Nice to meet you Prashi" He let out hand in response.Prashi looked at Pottu " Whats going on?"
No one spoke on their way back.It was only after they reached the road that Prashi asked the detective " Why were you after the girl?".Raman didnt utter a word.They kept walking." I think she was lying about something"

"What!!" they both spatted.

"Now that I try to recollect, I think I have seen the girl somewhere before"Prashi said.
"Where?" both of them asked together.
Prashi turned to Pottu and said " In your house".

Everybody stopped for a moment.Raman and Pottu stared at each other.The intensity of horror their faces portrayed didnt distract Prashi who was scratching his head and and cursing himself as he grappled with his memory.
"She was lying about her name"Prashi finally blurted out
Pottu and Raman turned their heads towards Prashi who was smiling before saying " She is Isha.Yes now, I remember.She was the one coming to Pottu's house to borrow silly things like sugar.I ofcourse actually never saw her but due to the number of her visits, I could atleast get her face.So Detective Raman, Why were you after Isha? and why was she claiming herself to be Sasha?".
Neither of them answered.Both tuned back and gazed at the Dark family of trees behind...

7-conversation, interrupted...

Pottu dint realize he just let Prashi slip under his own nose.
" Damn! its his lazy attitude that makes me sick" he grunted.His cell phone buzzed again.

YOU BETTER HURRY...

The detective was following them in the dark and was shocked to see the drama that had been going on.
" Its surprising that we have never actually seen each other"Prashi said.
 "Can I say something?" Prashi hear the girl speak.
" You are supposed to" he answered.
"Do you know who lives in the 4th street of gandhinagar?"She asked
"No.I am not from the survey department.Like hell I'd know who lives in 4th street" He muttered.
She chuckled and said " So, its not surprising if the people from4th street of gandhinagar come and ask you 'how come we live in the same town and not know each other?' huh?"
"Are you actually as dumb as you look?" Prashi asked."Anyway, I like your argument.And I think you can convince people easily,"
"Oh yeah.Thanks.By the way have you ever loved anyone in your life?" she suddenly asked.
"Yes, I dont think anyone would ever love that person more than I "Prashi said.
"And whos that?"the girl got excited.
"Its I.I love myself"Prashi quietly said.
"good.Loving yourselves, a very difficult thing to do" she nodded.
"No its a basic thing to do.If you can love yourself, you can love anyone in the world" Prashi hissed.

This guy doesnt even know how to talk to a girl.May be he deserves dying.Careful man! she can take out the damn revolver any time...The detective whispered under his breath.His cell phone rang.The girl quicly turned back. Damn!He was quick to put it back to silent vibration.All that could be heard was a beep that was lost in the ongoing conversation
"I think its time to leave" the girl said looking around dubiously.She could sense a third person.And she started departing.
"Hey I thought you'd be coming further" Prashi questioned.
"Damn! Did she see me?.Or was it Pottu?" The detective thought as he saw the girl walking away into the dark, never turning back.
"Hey " Prashi let out a loud voice but the girl was already gone.She was quick and also it was quite dark
"Saasha!!" he shouted and was about to make his move in her direction when he heard another loud cry.

6-Sasha interprets

Now Pottu remembered.Among all of Isha's visits to his house ,there was only one thing that was common.It was Prashi's presence.They both never really talked to each other.And Prashi barely acknowledged Isha's presence.He would always laze around on the sofa listening to music and she would try her best to gain his attention .

"they never met" Pottu quietly said.
" I have this gut feeling that Prashi dint even care to look at her"
" And how is that so important now" Potti demanded.
" In a way" the detective interrupted.
For one second Pottu thought. " How on Earth did she love Prashi?"
"because" the detective continued " Sasha thinks Prashi is responsible for Isha's death".
"Im telling you,I swear they both never met" Pottu yelled.
" Im sure Sasha wont be convinced with your statement" the detective.
"My ass" Pottu thought." You mean to say Isha wrote something like 'he has no interest in me, my life is a waste' in her diary before dying" Pottu demanded.
"You are so bad at guessing.NO.She didnt write anything as such in her diary before dying.Infact, She didnt pen down anything in the last few days of her life.The last thing she ever wrote was 'I am in love with Prashi'" the detective said.

"Then how the hell did she suspect Prashi"Pottu screamed.
"I have been trying to come up with an explanation for that.Two major factors heavily influenced her.First,the last lines in Isha's diary were registered so deeply in Sasha's mind that she convinced herself that Prashi was the culprit.Second, I met the local cop who was involved in this case.From my conversation with him, he had seen many incidents like this.He was so accustomed to suicide cases that when Sasha demanded him an explanation on the cause of death, he said "how would we know, must have been a love failure.We are investigating".He was a bad cop who gave a bad statement.Now that must have been why Sasha's options were narrowed down to one cornered name.Prashi."
"How long have you been working"Pottu asked.
" Doesnt matter" the detective said.

Pottu's mind went blank before he heard the detective shout at the other end.
"Does Prashi actually know about this suicide episode?" He asked
" No, he was out of town that whole week.When he came back,I just told him about a girl from the neighbourhood who was found dead.He exclaimed and forgot.Neither does he anything about Sasha nor the name of the dead girl Isha." Pottu gasped.
"Alright, Dont let the poor fellow go around alone.I will be trailing her.If there is any sign of emergency or If I find him alone,I will call you.If I dont, I'll atleast message you.Its better if we red handedly catch her" He hung up.

5-Isha's mistake

Pottu was now at the entrance of the tree tunnel.He was now thinking of the phone call he received a few days back from the detective.

"Listen carefully " He said as Pottu pressed the phone to his ear.
" This Sasha bought an unlicensed revolver exactly 10 days ago and has been trying ever since to secretly gun down the person she has lately started to hate the most"
"And who is that? " asked Pottu as he felt hair rising on the back of his neck
"Prashi, you friend". The detective muttered.
" What? How do you know him?" Potti was confused.

" Remember the book you told me Sasha was reading.ahem I actually broke into her house a few days back.After scanning through her room, I collected a decent pile of books.And 2 of them were not actually books.They were diaries.A new one and an old one.The new one was Sasha's own diary and the other was to my surprise, Isha's.Are you listening?" the detective shouted
" Yes Yes..." Pottu felt his voice shake.

" After Isha's death,It didnt take long for Sasha to discover her sister's diary.Isha's diary was the storehouse of her emotions.It contained everything connecting her to this world.Had Isha been alive,Sasha could never have understood the thoughts that ran in Isha's mind.The very fact that Isha is dead is what prompted Sasha to believe and understand everything her sister wrote." the detective took a deep breath.
"And how can you say this?" Pottu demanded.

"Thats where Sasha's diary comes into picture.You see, she developed this habit after going through her sister's thoughts.Her diary is somewhat similar to Isha's but different in nature.She wrote how she never cared to understand Isha and hated herself for doing that.Through the diary, she could get a clear image of what her sister was.Isha was like you said,a very down to earth girl.But did you know that she visited a Psychiatrist every week"
"What?" asked a surprised Pottu.
" yeah, she had these suicidal tendencies when she was under acute depression.When she was 17, she attempted to cut her veins just because she came 2nd in some damn exam.The doctor said it was normal for human beings to make mistakes, repent, correct or forget them.But Isha couldn't, she just couldnt.Even a small mistake would haunt her for weeks.So It was natural that she did things slowly and carefully."
Now Pottu remembered how Isha nervously handled the teapot and other cutlery every time she came to his house.
"All she did was a simple mistake" the detective stopped.

Pottu didn't speak.
" She fell in love with your lazy friend, Prashi" the detective said.
Pottu closed his eyes, slapped his forehead and sighed "Of all guys"

4-I am Sasha

Prashi was taken aback.He was now looking at a beautiful face glowing in the moonlight.The long cascade of her hair was shining as it danced around her thin waist.She was walking towards him." I can accompany you back home" she spoke.
" Who are you? You scared the hell outta me" Prashi mocked at her.
" I am Sasha" she replied.
" And what is Sasha doing in a place like this?" Prashi asked
"Pretty much the same you have been doing" she answered.
" Had you been a guy or an animal, I would have been less surprised" Prashi spat at her.
" Not to worry, I happen to have this habit of taking long walks during midnight.My mom says I'm Brave.Well, What do you think?" she asked.
" I dunno but certainly your mom is braver than you to encourage a habit like that"Prashi said
" Like she knows" she Interjected.
" Whatever!You are something worth remembering.So care a walk with me?" Prashi lazily asked
She smiled and marched towards him till she could feel his scent.They slowly started walking.

3-A Painful memory

Potti was running as memories flashed in front of him.....


4 months ago..

He was sitting in a chair, his legs crossed under the table and hands folded across his chest.He leaned forwards and began to speak.

"Her name is Isha.She used to live in the same street as we did,right beside my house.She was a very calm girl,used to talk less.Her dressing style was decent.Even used to come home for a cup of coffee.But she shied away when there were plenty of people around.More of an introvert."

The man in front of him took off his coat, helped himself with a cigarette as he gestured to continue.

"She has a younger sister,Sasha.She is the exact opposite in certain characteristics I mentioned earlier about Isha.Sasha goes to the parties and wears shorter clothes.She is trendy and more socialized.Isha was sober while her sister, hot headed.I never talked to her much.Many guys went after Sasha though"

Pottu saw the man puff out clouds of smoke as it covered his face momentarily before he coughed hard and spoke" Go on".

"All was well until one night, I suddenly woke up to find the neighbouring people gathered in front of Isha's house.It was dark and an ambulance was stopped in front of the gate.All I could infer within a few minutes was that a dead body of a girl was found hanging from a tree.The girl,as people said was Isha and the tree was hiding somewhere 2 miles down the deserted end of the road.Neither the cops nor the neighbours had any clue what actaully happened.The trauma her parents went through was unthinkable.I Never saw Sasha cry, she was pragmatic and accepted her sister's death.2 months later,her parents left for the USA without Sasha.It was her excessive pleading that led her parents take the painful step of leaving her alone at the house.She wanted to finish her degree whereas her dejected parents couldn't live in that house"

The detective offered Pottu a glass of water.Pottu gulped down, took a deep breath and continued.

" It was in this period that Sasha became close to me.She was not actually what I imagined.Perhaps she had changed after her sister's death or perhaps she was alone.We used to have long chats and also used to walk around in the evenings together.She had this weird habit of talking long walks in the midnight.I used to constantly oppose it but she said she actually enjoyed herself roaming around in the dark.During my occasional visits to her house, I often found her reading a book which she immediately closed on seeing me.She never let me take a good look at the books she read. "

"Now, Its interesting" the detective smiled.

"She never talked about Isha to me.But it was a few more weeks and I started hearing how much she loved her sister.She suddenly started talking about human emotions, feelings and love.I started to witness an emotional perspective of her thoughts.She once even broke down to tears while talking about her sister".

The detective nodded.

"One morning,I stepped into her house while she was taking shower.Out of my anxiety to discover what books she read, I walked straight into her room and started pulling out the drawers until I found a revolver in one of them.What frightened me most was the thing I read in her diary which caught my attention as it was thrown open by the strong wind blowing through her bedroom window."

It read " Kill him, Kill the friend.The sooner, the better."

The detective scratched his nose and ran a hand through his thick black hair.He said" You could have flipped back a few pages in the diary"

" It was too late, I already heard a crack at the bathroom door.I quickly went back to the drawing room without leaving a trace" Pottu exclaimed.

" So what brings you here?" the detective asked.

" Are you nuts? I want you to find out what she is up to" Pottu demanded.

"Yeah.You know how much I demand? I am actually lazy but when I'm in, I work my ass off.So better get some cash ready" the detective said as he crushed the burning tip of the cigarette into the ashtray.

2-A watchful stranger??

0The path was rather narrow and Prashi actually paid attention while walking.Songs were still playing in his ipod.The genre shifted from folk to rock.The plethora of trees were lined all along the path which was momentarily visible in the small beam of light thrown out of Prashi's mobile .It was more like a natural tunnel made of trees.Somewhere down deep inside the tunnel, a figure paced hastily between bushes.Prashi was slowly being swallowed by the mysterious passage...


A few miles away, a cell phone vibrated on the cold floor of a terrace.It was grabbed by a hand which apparated out of a blanket.It was a message.Pottu slowly read as his eyes widened.

YOUR FRIEND IS IN DANGER.....HURRY

He gasped and immediately looked around.An empty mattress lay beside him.He checked his watch,It was nearing 1:00 AM.He knew he shouldn't have let him go.He slipped into his chappals,put on his glasses and dashed towards the stairs.He sensed something terribly wrong.He was near the gate when he felt the disturbance in his pocket.The phone popped quite a few times in his trembling hands.He finally managed to hold it firmly as he sprinted down the dark end of the road.Yet a message again...

CAREFUL..

He looked around,there was no time.He tightened his grip around the phone and paced hard.

Prashi saw a red light beeping out of his ipod.He kicked himself and stuffed the device back into his pocket.He wanted to throw away the discharged ipod.He never lost his temper as long as music was around.And now he actually felt alone and angry.He looked around.There was not a soul visible.He turned back and tried to scan the traced path as far as he could.

"damn! It'll be a boring journey back home" he cursed under his breath.

" Not really" a feminish voice spoke behind him.He turned around.There was no one in the range Prashi's eyes could reach.Yet he knew, it came from the moonlit shade of congested trees that were in front of him.

"I'll come with you" a figure slowly appeared from the dark.....

1-An untimely stroll

Place:  a house somewhere in the out skits of a small town....

It was half a dozen hours after sunset.Pottu was half asleep as he tried to eclipse himself with a relatively small blanket.It was a hard task keeping in mind the chilled breeze which craved for bare skin.Apparently, people sleeping on the terrace became the bull's eye for the bitter winter currents of mid-december.The comfortable mass of mattress whistled soothing lullabies to Pottu's strained mind.

The futon beside him was rather empty.A few feet away a boy stood in the dark, his outline illuminated by  dim moonlight..His vibrant stance inferred that he was neither sleepy nor shivering.With both hands resting on his waist,he was looking at the sky above him.Without deviating from his gaze,he examined the sky from different perspectives by bending his head in different directions.Surprised by the limited freedom in the movement of his hinged head,he realized that the sky would look no different than it was now.And he traversed his head back to its normal position.

"Prashi, are u still awake? come on man! you have been watching the same sky everyday for about an year now.You have never missed  this part of the day.I wonder.... " Pottu yawned.
"Do you like the day or the night?"interjected  Prashi.
" no doubt he gives a damn about my queries" Pottu thought." Well, Why should I answer dumbo?"
" Its okay" Prashi laughed.
"I Wish I could vicariously live through you and discover your dumb reason to laugh at everything" Pottu muttered as he adjusted his blanket again."Good night" he said and heard himself whisper "get lost".

Prashi bid goodnight to Pottu and headed downstairs.The house was dead calm.He could hear his own footsteps as he walked down the foyer before stopping at the entrance door.After a few silent seconds,he stepped out and made his way to the dusty road ahead.On one side,Prashi could see the road gradually getting illuminated as it ran between other houses.On the other extreme, he saw the road vanish into a sea of darkness.The last ray of the street light stretched not too far from where he was standing.

He stood on the road facing his domicile,the last one in the chain of  about 10 buildings that were spread sporadically in a boulevard that was partially enveloped with dense trees.He took out his ipod from his nike lowers,stuffed the earphones in place and quietly disappeared into the dark.
He was not sure where he was going.He just loved the dark and the feel of its wind.No detour,he just followed the contour the road-turned-path traced. "beera beera...." the song was on full swing with maximum volume....


The wind stopped blowing,the leaves dared not to rustle,he was the only moving object in the vicinity.He went on with his head bent down unaware of the dead silence that spread around.It was half past 12 and he had travelled quite far.The echo of footsteps which had been tapping the path for a while now started to decelerate as Prashi came to a halt.His head still down,he quickly glanced around through the corner of his eyes.The music was still playing.He slowly started to lift his head as he began to see what lay in front of him.The path that led him this long now commenced to channel itself through a thick array of trees.

"Where the hell am I?" he wondered.

"Like I care" he answered himself in a whisper and stepped into the arena of trees.....


TO BE CONTINUED....