for their might not be 'Tomorrow'

with every sunset
you complete one wonderful day
with every sunrise
you wake up to a new golden ray
with every autumn leaf
soon comes a tiny green twig
with every season of fall
there is a warm springs call

blessed are all days of life
joys and griefs, fewer or rife
enjoy every tear and bless every pain
for only after walking through a drought
you truly would savor the bliss of rain

light up
cheer up
live up your every breathe
dance on the rhythm
of your every single heart beat
enjoy the companionship of the twinkling stars
heal up your heart and forget all scars
forgive and smile at the dark night of sorrow
for their might not be 'Tomorrow'

-ketz

Day & Night - Poem

It brings great zest that of a knight

Brings you the golden ray of light 

Has all the energy and might 

to turn your dark world bright 

At its arrival all seems right 

At its departure 

you feel you're losing your sight 

And once it is gone 

the busy noisy world turns quite 

What takes over it is a fiendish night

It looks like an overtake 

baron's egos look at stake 

But it actually is a pattern to life 

it is the DAY & NIGHT at strife

-Ketz

Power of 49 - Short Story, Fiction.

Power of 49, will be best narrated by the first lady cadet of the Indian Army in 1992, as she reveals her story of living each day as a dream during her 10 year service period. This is a story of the Journey of a lady from being ‘Cadet-001’ to ‘Major Priya’, and more.

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I woke up with a start, at hearing a loud blow of a whistle in my ears. I sat upright on my bed. It was 4am and the ambiance was dead silent. My three year old son and my husband were sleeping peacefully besides me. I looked at them; I felt a sense of love with new responsibilities. This morning was a start to my new life. In this new life the day does not begin as early as it did before. But because I brought home the habits from my past, I choose to utilize this time by going for a walk. As I got ready in my track suit and was about to leave the room, Amar, my husband woke up.

“Good morning, sorry I woke you up. I thought of being on a morning walk.” I said as he wiped his eyes staring at his watch.

“But it’s only 4am. We decided to go at 6am Priya,”

Why do people call it a morning walk I really wonder at times? For them morning is anything before 12noon. At the OTA we started our day even before dawn. I gave him a grin and said, “I will be back by the time you get ready for your jog.”

“Roger, Major Priya,” he said and smiled.

I jogged uphill towards the Hanging Garden. The road was deserted. It was still dark; the smell of wet soil and the soft drizzling rain drifted me twelve years back in time.

I had grown up in a joint family of Haryana. My father; Lieutenant Colonel Vijay Rajput never meet me with love. As I was growing up I learned that he always wanted to have a son from my mother. He wanted someone to take his place in the army to serve the nation. A daughter, he felt was nothing but a liability for the family. I was felt hurt by his behaviour towards me during that little time when he was home. I got enough love from my massi and dadi, but there were times when I really missed my mother, who had passed away while delivering a baby girl when I was in my fifth grade. Even the new life could not live for long and expired in few days. My two cousin brothers were taking their military training at the Officers Training Academy in Srinagar. I still remember the smile on their father’s face when they received an acceptance letter from the OTA and I also could see the sorrow in my father’s eyes as he congratulated them. He had no son who could give him the same happiness. But why only sons are so important to families? Why not daughters? I decided to apply in the army. When I shared this thought with my grandmother she laughed and said, “Beauties like you are not fit to hold heavy weapons my dear little girl. They do not allow girls in the army.”

This was unacceptable to me. Why this partiality? Soon after I finished my graduation I wrote a letter to the Chief of Army Staff, General Sunil Rodrigues, requesting him to open the doors of the armed services to women. Everyone claimed this act to be highly childish and uncertain, until I received a reply letter. The General wrote back saying the Army was planning to induct women in a year or two. That morning was like a day of hope. This was still not known to my father. I wanted to surprise him. I had read somewhere what Law students were given special preference in the army. With this thought in mind I decided to do my post-graduation in Law. The day my father came to know of the letter I received from General Sunil, he felt my desperate attempts to make my presence felt to him. He got the letter framed in a golden bordered frame and asked me to hang it in the living area. That was the first time I saw his eyes twinkling with pride. He hugged me and said, “I am proud of being your father and I apologise to you for I once sinned to feel that daughters are any less than sons. I do not care if the army opens their doors for women or not, I know you will achieve success in which ever field you choose to go.” I said hugging him firm, “It will be in army soon pitaji.”

And finally, one fine morning I saw a full page ad by the Indian army in the newspaper. I quickly followed all the given instructions in the ad and applied. I was selected and sent to the OTA in Chennai. The day I departed from Haryana was a very emotional moment for my family, especially my father. He had tears in his eyes when he hugged me at the railway station and waved me a goodbye.

“I really miss your mother today. I see her in you. She was a fine lady. God took her away from this brutal world because we never deserved her.” He said.

His last words to me, remained as a puzzle in my mind; the train left before I could ask him, “why?”

The day I entered the gates of the OTA-Chennai was spectacular; and will remain as an eternal memory. I reached the place at five in the morning and signed the muster book under ‘Batch 227’ against ‘Cadet-001 Priya Rajput’. I was asked to wait in a hall with five ladies who were already in and a few more joined us soon. It was a hall with a stage like structure built with wooden planks in the centre. Few wooden chairs were arranged in a semi circular pattern around the stage.  I sat watching the other ladies and their huge trunks. I had only a small trunk and a shoulder bag with me; but their trunks looked huge. These huge trunks were filled with fancy clothes and other accessories they thought they would wear to all the social dos at OTA. I never in the wildest of my thoughts thought that I would witness a ragging even in the army, I assumed it was only limited to the civil colleges. Few of the ladies from the back office of the army’s medical department asked a girl to open her huge pink trunk in the presence of many cadets around. Our commanding officers almost hit the roof when he saw our trunks and the list of requests some of the ladies placed - warm water, tube lights and a saloon. The requests were basic but this was not a place where we had come seeking our basic necessities; we were here for a training to survive in the nastiest of life conditions.

Right from day one, our instructors told everyone to call us 'Sir', not 'Madam'. Later too, we were addressed as officers, not as ladies or gentlemen. They believed that a cadet is a cadet, and all are to be treated equally, be it men of women. This sounded great when we heard it from Major Nandan. But when it was implied in the everyday life it turned to be embarrassing moment often.

There was only one washroom for our batch of 25 ladies. For the first few days every morning we heard an awkward scream from the washroom. The doors of the washroom had no locks and it was a lucky trip if you had a privilege of using the washroom with a bulb glowing inside. Often, we would barge in and see someone else bathing in dark. So, soon I devised the system of singing loud while using the washroom. It was fun. This was how we had overcome the awkward problem very playfully. But there were some bumpy moments we just had to walk through.  The parallel training did create gauche moments for the shy lady cadets who never imagined they would have to get into the same swimming pool as the gentleman or train under the watchful eyes of male officers. One of such moment happened on field while taking the ground training. The Major called out everyone for a march early morning when most of the cadets were either in bed in their night suits or in washrooms bathing or getting ready half bare or the worst - in towels. The men were used to this surprise morning march but we were unprepared. We had to take our places in the march in the attire we were in. Some men were only in their under-wears and some men had uniforms only till their waist and the rest aired nude. The cadets from our batch were too shy to even come down on the first call. I stood alone in my nigh suit and wrapped myself in a shawl. In a few seconds after Major gave the second call to the batch, all ladies came down in a very awkward walk and took their positions behind me in a row. Not one amongst them had managed to get into full uniform. Everyone was very conscious for the first few minutes of the march but soon we had to drop down our shame and move ahead with force. From that very day, we kept ourselves prepared for such surprise march; mentally.

A rigorous physical training with stringent standards that matched the male cadets wasn't a problem; the problem was their mind-set and their behavior towards the 25 new lady cadets. In their perspective women were added to the army only to add colour. Women were a part of the back office and medical departments of the defense system but never were they a part of the on field training practices. This stereotype thinking showed in their behavior often. We all were resting in our rooms one evening when we heard loud music being played from the OTA hall. Soon we heard knocks on our doors. Few jawans from the other batch invited us to the night party at the hall. Some of the ladies went while some denied. I had no interest in partying when every part of by aching body was pulling me to bed. I politely denied the offer and went to sleep. In the morning when I asked the ladies about the party they complained that they were made to serve drinks and look after the supplies for the party the entire night. They complained to their immediate seniors but were unheard; and going to the Major with these pity issues did not sound right. We hence could do nothing about it. I was disheartened by this incidence because even in army the lady was ill treated by the so called gentlemen and there was no one to hear us out.

But soon, I had a first-hand experience of the army jurisprudence when a drunken jawan tried to barge into my room at midnight. He knocked my door after their party and asked for water. My room-mate stayed on the door not allowing him in when I went inside to get water. He pushed her and force opened the door. I rushed towards him and tried pushing him out of the room. He was muscular and we both just could not control him. We then called for help and soon General Sunil stood by the sight. They took him away and asked us to see him at his office at noon. After hearing the entire story from us and few others the jawan was court-martialled and sent back packing within days. Everyone was shaken after this incident. All the parties doomed after that day and many behavioral changes were spotted. Justice in the army is very quick.

The stereotype mindset of women not being able to stand in defense of the nation with the men was tone apart when the first lady’s batch of the Indian Army won the best batch award by the end of the three year training; and declared to be fit to be given on field tasks and responsibilities. It was a proud moment for the entire batch and Major Nandan, our mentor and General Sunil for his decision of giving daughters of the families a privilege of standing tall with pride with their brothers. I still remember his words that he said on the stage holding the trophy, ‘The power of 49, that is the 49% women population of our country is least utilised till date. They have the power, the intelligence and the courage to stand equal with the men. So how could anyone keep them away from being a part of the defence? The decision was taken late but rightly made because of the letters that we received from brave ladies like Priya who showed interest and passion to join us.’ His words just made me feel proud. Finally a day had come when women will be treated well after 25 random ladies amongst the 49% of India proving themselves in the army.

We had a grand celebration that evening where no lady was made to serve drinks but be a part of the party and cherish their success. It was the first time when every lady from the batch of 25 felt equally privileged and honored as the other jawans. And it was also the first time when we got a chance to take out the fancy clothes that we had brought in our huge trunks to wear on special dos. This indeed was special.

OTA-Chennai and many other training academies in India opened their doors for women. I saw eight batches of women growing brave in my sight during my ten year commission period in the army. Just like me, it was their single-mindedness that won them an entry into the army. Soon it was the day when I was conducting a seminar for them for the last time at OTA. I could never understand their policy of a ten year commission. I wanted to ask for an extension period but seem they had decided what is right for me and my family. I wondered why? I also requested General Sunil to post me in the infantry. But he playfully replied saying ‘may be my great-grand-daughter would get a chance to serve in the infantry.’ I would be waiting for that day, surely; I told him.

On my final day General Sunil called me in his cabin. He handed me a letter from my father. He had passed away last night at the Srinagar headquarters. He suffered a heart attack. I was badly dazed by the news. They arranged for my visit to Haryana. I immediately left in a jeep to the railway station. I was thoughtless all the while. I spoke nothing, I just broke down when I took my seat in the train and the train left. I felt a vacuum within. I remembered the moment when I say him the last. Our conversation played in my head all over again. I was weeping aloud. There were not many passengers in my coach that night. It gave me enough space to vent out my emotions. I pulled out the letter from my bag; and was shocked to read my father’s final confession.

In the letter he said; he could read my mind and the confusion in it. The questions that evolved by his last few words to me on the railway station that was all answered in this letter.
My mother had died a natural death while giving birth to a baby girl; but, the little infant was brutally killed to death due to mere ignorance and belief of her birth bringing in bad luck to the family. My mother was a fine medical student and served the Army Medical Department at Srinagar for ten years. She had to quit because of my father and his family’s force. She was grounded in the family life and was never allowed to do what she wanted. She wanted to open a hospital in our village; she wanted to treat people for free. But against all this what the family thought was important is a baby boy to carry the name of the family and be a proud part of the army. When she delivered me, she had to fight for my survival, which she did and hence was boycotted from the family. My father still stood by her side not wholeheartedly but out of love for her. He gave up when the same happened for the second time. He could hardly have time for my mother and me which kept him unaware of the ill treatment happening with my mother at home.  My father’s ignorance killed her.

By the time I had reached the last word of the letter I had developed hatred towards every single person who I saw involved in my mother and my little sisters death. It was not just them but the ruthless laws of the society for women. The illogical tradition and beliefs and the blind headed elders demanding a pregnant lady to give birth to only a baby boy. When will this end?

I went home, prayed my last dues and left that house forever. I spoke to no one. Aman had called and asked me to stay there for a day and he shall come to pick me up. I had no strength to stand there and breathe in the air that killed two innocent lives. I told him I will be taking the first flight to Mumbai and reach by noon. 

“Hey Priya, wait for me.” Aman’s voice brought me back from the pain of my past to the drizzling morning of today. I turned to see him panting as he ran uphill to reach me.

“Why did you come this way if you know you can’t?” I asked.

“Because I knew I will find you here.”

“Why did you come hunting for me? I told you I will be back by 6.”

“Because I wanted to walk with you Major.” He said and smiled.

“Roger Dr. Aman. Come soon, come on.” I stimulated him to speed up.  

We stood on the top of the hill watching the beauty of the city connecting with the sea and the mesmerizing view of the marine drive.
The sun was rising, marking a beginning of a new day, a new life.

“So Major Priya, what’s your plan?” Aman asked.

I looked at him, into his eyes and said, “Trigger the Power of 49 in this country”





-          The End -

when oceans fall for the hills

with your 'hello' i skip a beat 

with your 'goodbye' i skip two

i see you wave from the rear-view mirror

smile and drive away; was all i could do 

for it was not just love we shared 

we shared many hardships too 

we knew we expected opposites from life 

i aimed at the snow capped peaks 

you dreamed of diving the deep oceans blue 

you belong to the waters 

i breath on the heights of the world 

being on the same coin with obvious sides two 

i wonder if we will every meet 

for any longer than the life of morning dew 

P.S. I Love You - Poetic Tribute

This one is specially for all P.S. I Love You fans  

You will be reading this letter when I’ll be gone 

Lazing in the bed like dead 

I’m sure you will be singing my song 

The same song that once you hated me sing 

At the karaoke night

After a few shots of gin 

You preferred dying of cold 

But hated to wear my fav leather jacket 

You lingering in it now, once you called it rugged and old 

You were always worried about our tomorrow 

I hated the thought coz 

It killed your smile and put you to sorrow 

It wasn't that I was not concerned

I only wanted to live the fullest with you 

Before my weak heart died and burned 

I knew I was dying 

“I can’t imagine a day with you not around.” 

I remember you said this crying 

So, by my words I thought to stay with you for a while

“Hi, this is Gerry. Busy to take any calls now, shall revert soon.” 

Hearing me on the answering machine? Stop hitting the redial

To feel my presence, to feel me near 

You need not pile up my stuff on you

I live in every breath you take, dear

You made my life so beautiful and gee 

But I was just a chapter

Promise, you have better things to see 

I did and I will, always love you 

But don’t fear to fall in love again

Don’t be guilty; I know you love me too 

There is something...

There is something i wish to tell you 

There is something you must know

There is something special i feel

I fear of you hear it you might blow 

There is something in your voice 

That rings to me like a musical cord 

It would make a perfect love song 

If my heartbeats i could record 

There is something in your eyes

That gives me the strength to live a day more 

There is something in your prayers

That this man is falling in love with you 

At the deaths door

Walking Together

Walking together
Under the drizzles of July
We met just this evening
Feels like years have passed by

Walking together
Just a hand distance away
The only color was of your rosy lips
All other colors turned to mere shades of grey


This perfect night
Your beautiful sight
Our hearts fuse to play a tune
That has entangled us so tight

Walking together
Names still unknown
But the smile felt familiar
To guard this smile, I learned I have grown

Walking together
On the moist shiny sand
Leaving behind our footprints
Going parallel, as if hand in hand

Its hours passed evening
Yet it feels no dark but bright
I extend my hand out to you
Hold on, I wish to be your knight

Walking together
Yet miles away
Waiting for your answer
I promise not to step ahead
But keep waiting at the bay

Paper Boats

I sat reading my Diary by the river bank.

pages filled with words, rhymes & memories 

of people, moments, places, things I loved.

but, its final page remained blank.

Giggles of children downstream by the bridge

made my past events flowing in my head, abridged

their faces reminding me of the lost innocence

Of the lost time, of the empty presence

I tore the first page of my diary 

and folded it shaping it into a paper boat 

that page with my name, now

was set on the downstream to float

it bobbed down the river 

reaching a lonesome toddler 

he stretched his hand and pulled it over 

and looked at me with a smile for more 

i tore the second page to make another one

more kids caught the sight and made a run

i gently pushed the paper boat in their direction

it glided down towards their breathless anticipation

pages filled with words, rhymes & memories 

of people, moments, places, things I loved

were now transformed into paper boats

not in waste though, joy to those kids it served. 

broken, hollow, empty but light 

felt my heart watching that sight

Then i saw that toddler making his way to me

he came and handed me a Beautiful Blank Diary 

we spoke nothing just shared a smile 

"keep writing" he said. promptly i replied, "I WILL"

Happy Reading! Happy Monsoons! 

Time to repay, Love

He had the map to the treasure. She had the key to the lock.

She: I love you, we will find this treasure and will live happily ever after.
He: and in this journey we shall walk together till the end of life.

They laughed, they cried, they loved, they fought, they saw the dawn and the dusk, together.

They found the treasure.

He: we found this only because of you, I do not know how do I repay you for this happiness.
She: just love me till I live.

He hugged her. He stabbed her in her back.
She looked at him in horror.

He: I walked with you till the end of your life and I loved you till you lived.

With tears in her eyes she breathed her last. She begged for life but he tore her trust apart.

He took all gold. He ruled the world and feared of no man.
UNTIL, one morning, his phone rang with a reminder of Her birthday.
He deleted the reminder and went back to his bed.

He saw a dream of the day when he had found the treasure.

He heard him say: we found this only because of you, i do not know how do i repay you for this happiness.

He felt cold breeze near his ear. He heard a whisper...

"Time to repay, Love" said a cold taut voice from the other side of his bed.

Detached

Short Story - Goa13km

"This is a mind boggling story of a girl who finds it hard to believe her sight. All that keeps her moving is the thought that, something is highly wrong. But what is that 'something'. she finds it at Goa13km."                 

   - Ketki.

It was dark. Unexpectedly, brightness struck out of nowhere and I felt a vacuum beneath me. I fell down through a dark tunnel. I saw a glimpse of a milestone with dust and red sand, autumn leaves and a flower, wired! I could not read what was written on the milestone. It soon turned dark again. I was getting pulled down swiftly. I felt chocked. I felt water gushing in my nose. I feared of crashing on the ground but my fall landed me on something soft that was actually my bed. I was panicky. Though I was asleep, my brain was functioning well. It told me to get up and stop the panic as it was just a dream, falling dream!
I could hear my cell phone ringing. I made an attempt to stretch my hand to reach out to the phone; I felt immense pain running through my nerves. My hea
d felt heavy and my eyes refused to open to see the light. I force opened my eyes to see the ceiling of my room. The window to my right was left open and it was freezing me to death. I tried pulling myself up from the bed to reach the phone that was still ringing. Every little joint made a crackling sound with pain. I thought the reason for this awful body ache was the long drive back from Goa. The silence after the cell phone stopped ringing was suddenly broken by the loud telephone ring. Before I could reach out to the phone it turned to the answering machine and I heard a girl’s voice on the other end. She was crying. She said nothing, but I could hear many others around her.
Hurry... shift him to the ICU... where is Kaira? Call the doctor... Priya... where is Kaira?... *beep-beep-beep*
I could not understand what was going on. In no time a feeling of something is majorly wrong around occupied me. I got up and checked my telephone. The caller id displayed the number. I redialled the same number but I couldn’t get through. I found my cell phone lying on the same table. The mobile screen displayed a pattern lock. I tried once I tried twice but I could not unlock it. It was strange how I forgot my own locking code. I tried but failed the third time was well. To make thing tuff now the locking mode had shifted from pattern to a numeric lock. I pressed random numbers out of frustration. Once, twice, thrice and again. My brain could burst any moment out of anxiety and impatience but then the screen displayed ‘welcome’. I don’t know how but I finally unlocked the phone. I quickly opened my calling screen and dialled the number from the caller id. The number then transformed to ‘Priya’ with a picture of a young girl with a guy. My sight wasn’t clear to recognise them. I rubbed my eyes and a beam of realisation struck my mind.
“Shit!!!! Aryan.”
Priya was his younger sister. My mind was flooded with wild thoughts. I was concerned about the well-being of Aryan. I scrolled my call log. Found his name. I called him. But his phone was switched off. I kept scrolling the list to call someone who would know where Aryan was. I called Priya again and again i failed to get through her number. I checked the four unread messages on whatsapp. They were from a group ‘Crazy4’.
Priya: Any news of Kaira?
Sameer: No. How is Aryan?
Priya: we are taking him to Holycross Hospital.
Rohan: I’m coming to the hospital directly. Inform his parents.
“Oh shit!!! Aryan...”
The phone dropped from my hand. I checked the watch, it was 3am. Holycross Hospital was at an hour’s distance by road from my place. It was in the interiors of Bangalore. I thought of nothing but Aryan and rushed to the main entrance. I looked around to find mom dad; but I soon learned I was alone at home. I pulled my jacket and rushed downstairs. I reached the parking area. I saw my car but, “damn!!!! Where are the keys?” I fetched the pocket of the jacket and luckily found them in. I opened the door and water gushed out of the car. It was strange, but I did not give it a thought.
I drove the car like crazy. I covered the hour long distance within 20 mins. I left the car midway at the hospital compound and rushed at the help desk. The operator was busy on the call. I yelled to pull her attention, “In which room is Aryan Sharma admitted? I need to see him now?” but sadly my voice was ignored. I looked elsewhere for help. Just then I saw Rohan at the other end of the corridor. I rushed towards him. He waited outside the last room in the corridor. I saw him talking to Priya. Before I could reach him one of the doors to my left opened and I heard the nurse call out for the doctor, “doctor... emergency!”
I stopped there and peeped in from the dark glass door. I saw Aryan lying on the bed. He was connected to two huge machines. Priya and Rohan rushed in the room. I was stoned and broke down watching him. The doctor rushed in the door and closed the door behind him. I called for help. But I was left unattended. I lied there clueless of what was happening and what wrong had happened. I felt heavy headed. I had no strength to stand on. I sat on the floor with my head between my knees. The feeling of helplessness was menacing me. I hugged myself tight. I rolled my fingers from the warm jacket I wore. It belonged to Aryan. It had been his favourite since the day I gifted it to him on our first Valentine date. I so missed his lively presence around me. Life was hard to imagine without him in the frame. “I can’t live without you. Please don’t leave me alone. Aryan, I love you.” I was mumbling to myself. I needed him. He had to get well soon. I sobbed till I dozed off with a heavy head.
 I soon felt a soft touch over my hand that rested on the edge of the bench in the corridor. “Kaira, I did, I do and always will, love you!” I heard a whisper in my ears. I felt his warm breath near my neck. I opened my eyes to find his smiling face. Aryan stood right behind the bench. I got up with surprise and failed to find him around.
Was it a delusion? Was it a dream? I got up and walked to the closed door of Aryan’s room. I looked through the glass; Aryan was alone in the room. I glanced around; there were no traces of anyone around. I saw Aryan move his hand. He was gaining conscious. I slipped inside the room and sat near his bed. I touched his hand; he opened his eyes the moment he felt my touch.
“Hey, how are you feeling now, baby?” I enquired to him.
“Kaira! You are fine? Didn’t you get hurt? Oh my god! Kaira, I’m so glad to see you. I was so scared. I thought I lost you, forever. I would have died without you Kaira. I love you. I’m so sorry. It was my entire fault. I will never let you go out of my sight. I love you!” he was overwhelmed to see me. His breath was panting. He had held my hand tight.
“I’m fine Aryan. You need rest now.” I tried to calm him down. Though I was still clueless what actually had happened. I thought I would ask him but he was gasping and was anxious. I first had to compose him.
“But you don’t leave me. Please, stay by my side.” He held my hand firm.
I smiled and said, “I’m always there with you. Close your eyes, and take rest. I’m here.”
He smiled in relief and closed his eyes. He soon went off to sleep. I was unaware of all that was happening around. I felt as if I was losing the control of my own life. It was bothering me. I had to find out. I tried to recall the day we were returning from Goa. I and Aryan were coming back in my car. Aryan was driving and I was enjoying the drive. We were speeding up to meet our friends who were waiting for us on the express way 20kms away from the interiors of Goa. We both were few shots down and were in high spirits. Aryan was getting too naughty while driving. I scolded him for the same. He leaned forward to patch a quick kiss of my cheek and...
“...and when our car knocked to the truck my heart came up my throat. I turned the car to my right and banged the tree and the car trembled down the flop into a lake near the highway. I turned to you and found you unconscious. The car was stuck underwater on few rocks. The lake felt quite deep. I tried taking off your seat belt and pull you out of the car. But I failed. I tried opening the door of the car. It was jam. I was losing conscious. In no time the car slipped down from the rocks and gushed to the bottoms of the lake. I felt helpless and had held your hand tight and tried pulling you out. The grip soon felt lose and I could see you going away from me in the depths of the water. Then all was dark and I opened my eyes again with you in front of my sight.” Aryan’s words pulled me back in dusk. Everything that happened was running in front of my eyes. I was lost in my thoughts when Aryan asked, “but who brought you here?”
Yes, exactly! Who brought me here? How was I here if he saw me drowning in the lake?
Before I could think of anything I heard Priya and Rohan walk in the room with Aryan’s parents. I got up and stepped aside and made place for his mother to sit by his side.
“Kaira, don’t go. Be here.” He called out to me as I took few steps back as the others surrounded his bed.
Aryan’s mother looked at me, looked back at Aryan and broke down. No one in the room other than Aryan noticed my existence. I soon learned the worst truth of my life, of my death.
I was dead. I no more belonged to the world. I had lost all control over my life. I looked at myself; Aryan’s jacket that I wore in the car was on me, the car keys in the pocket of the jacket, the water gushing out of the car, and the phone that I had forgotten at home before going to Goa.
I could hear Aryan yelling to have me back in front of his sight as I walked away. I felt chocked. I came in the corridor. I yelled in front of hundreds of people around me, but no one noticed. They couldn’t see me, because I was no more a human. I was dead. I heard Rohan talking on phone with the inspector. They were struggling to find me. Or I should say to find my carcass. I sank in the hollows of my heart. I broke down. I tore in tears. But no one could hear me. Aryan still believed I was alive. Everyone had a hope I was alive. I begged to God, why I wasn’t?
Why?
I could still hear Aryan yell and scream and cry in pain. He was calling my name. But there was nothing I could do. His voice was tearing me apart. I was weeping clueless when I felt someone’s warm hand on my head. I turned to see Aryan’s face at a four finger distance away from mine, smiling at me. I skipped a beat, my eyes popped out in revelation.
He smiled and said, “Kaira, I did, I do and always will, love you!” Again, I felt his warm breath near my neck as he moved close on the bed to cuddle me.
I said nothing. I was too amazed to understand where exactly was I? I was puzzled between dream and life. I soon learned for my relief that we were on our trip at Goa, getting ready in our hotel room to welcome the beautiful day and soon leave to head back home. I called up mom before we checked out the hotel.
“Hello Mom, good morning.”
“Good morning beta, so have you both left?” mom enquired.
“Yes mom, we will be soon checking out the hotel.”
“Is dad coming along?”
“No, he said he has a patient to attend this eve.”
“Ok. Come soon babies, your engagement rings have arrived before you.” Mom said in excitement.
“Oh, wonderful! See you soon mom.”

***

Kaira’s mother was very excited about her daughter coming back after her short medical treatment at Goa at her father’s psychology center. She was happy that Kaira sounded well. Kaira often sees certain people, places, things or events that disturb her to an extent that she had once tried killing herself. She was mentally disturbed after her twin sister had gone missing and never returned. Her mother was concerned about her and the new life that she was about to begin with her childhood love Aryan. She ofcourse missed the presence of her elder daughter Amaira but there was nothing she could do. The police had failed to find her after she went missing from her road trip with her friends and the accident near Goa. Two of her friends were found with a crashed car near the highway but Amaira was missing. They found no traces of her remains near the accident spot.
It was 3am. Kiara’s mom was fast asleep when her phone rang. She picked up the phone in her semi conscious state and in a few seconds her face dripped of horror.
“mom, I found didi. I found her.” Kaira said weeping over the phone.
“What are you talking?”
“mom, I and Aryan were on our way back home when we meet a small accident...”
“Are you both all right? Are you hurt?” she enquired in worry.
“Mom, we both are fine. Our car crashed on a tree and tumbled down the slope adjacent to the highway in a lake. We were drowning. I felt unconscious. But when i regained my conscious I was still underwater, at its bases. I pushed my leg hard to get up and swim on top. Few stones moved by my kick and I saw didi’s necklace that you gifted both of us on our 21st birthday. I opened the pendent and I saw our pictures in it. And I...” Kaira was weeping too hard to talk. Aryan took the phone from her hand and said,
“I found Kaira trapped in stones. I pulled her on top and she told me everything that she saw under water. I thought she must have hallucinated again but she brought up the necklace. We called the cops. Please arrange for making the final duties. We will be home soon.”
“Where are you both now? I will inform Kaira’s father reach you asap.”
“We are at the outskirts’ of Goa. Wait a moment mom, I can see a milestone here. Let me check...aaa”
“hmm”
“Goa, 13kms”

***

After that day, Kaira never had any more hallucinations. She was healthy, mentally and physically. Her own father, being a psychiatrist had failed to cure. Because it was no disease, it was Amaira’s strong will.


 © Ketki Borgaonkar




Do leave back a comment if you had a good time reading it. Constructive criticism is welcomed :) others can just R.I.P  

Nazaqat - Book Review

Book Review

Novel: Nazaqat (Fiction)
Genre: Thriller/Drama
Author: Sasha H Singhal aka Harsh Agarwal

Nazaqat... the title being the taken name of the protagonist in the story goes well to title it. The cover page of the book ie the classic wallpaper back-print and the shadow if the crystal chandelier, the shades and the royal chair on the back cover set a perfect mood to explore the insight of 'Nazaqat'. The only thing that curbs the imagination of the reader even before knowing what and who Nazaqat is, is the picture of the girl on the cover. Instead, just a shadowy image of a lady would have done justice.

Nazaqat is a story of a woman with the morals of a man. Nazaqat is the taken name of Naazani, a girl from Dehradun. It is the story of her journey which began out of a silly teen curiosity and took her to a new world alltogether. Here, in this new world with new people and wage adventures she lived with her bewildering morals and mysterious terms and conditions. This is a story of a girl who gets into the business of Prostitution by choice. She loves her job and does it wholeheartedly. With Nazani, it is also a story of people and acts attached to her. People like, Ishank who is a gay character, Biplab who is an innocent lover boy, Priyanka who is Nazani's room mate at delhi, Sharat who is Nazani's manager. Acts like the 'Slut walk' and the wave of legalizing prostitution in India. It is also a story of Mathews, a ghost writer for Nazani's story.


Nazani, the character is beautifully portrayed by the author in regards to her looks, personality, behavior and nature. The dual name representation for the character i.e. Nazaqat for the prostitute and Nazani for the girl from Dehradun worked great until it was confused with an unnecessary addition of her pet name Naez. The story of the main character is so attention seeking that the brief descriptions on places and other elements in the story acts as a hurdle in the flow of the plot. The metaphors used over all the script are beautifully expressed. The mermaid poetry in the beginning of every chapter goes well in sink with the plot. But, the only problem with that idea was the poems being in 'old english' which not many readers are familiar with. The mind set of the people in the story is presented simply wonderfully in the form of a 'Quote' to remember. The story clearly represents the society's ideal actions and their underlying intentions that have never matched. Some bitter truths o our society are revealed here.

Nazzqat, "A slut is just a women with morals of a man."

Sharat, "It teaches you how to reach your goal by making use of the given resources... That is, Angry Birds."

Great dialogue writing. the writing style of the author is very floral, descriptive and decorative.

 Every last word from the chapters keeps you tied with the story to read on...

Great read!!!!!!

Book Review - Silent Voices By Rohit Shetty

 'Silent Voices' as it reads, is a wonderful collection of emotion's silently released from the dept of a heart in verses. The cover design of the book is as mesmerizing as the words expressed inside in the book. The Poet of the book Mr. Rohit Shetty is an India Book of Record Holding poet for his 400 poetries published within a year. Being an introvert he has always preferred to keep his thoughts and feelings mostly to himself and pen it down in the form of poems. He started writing poetries from the young age of 12. After his 1st published book 'Silent Voices' Shetty once again successfully tickles every heart with their words and flows them in the stream of his rhymes.


"In silence I created an air of suspense
and they capitalized on it in my absence.
In silence all my thoughts mingled;
some of which should have been singled.

Shush!! Silence.
I'm breaking the silence
as I finish this sentence.
Silence I demand
Give back to me my independence."

- Rohit Shetty.



                           This book carries poems of various types, there are perfect rhymes, sonnets, free verses, blank verses and of-course many of poets own personalized style. The poet has a breath taking flow of emotions sync with words in every piece of his art. There are poems that will make you laugh and cry, make you feel gleeful and heartsick, make you feel rejuvenated, motivated and depressed, lonely. And then, there are poems that make you think a little deeper of something that never caught your eye till date in your busy life. The poet has played beautifully with the metaphors, sounds and personifications in expressing his feelings in a settle manner. The poet in many of his work has gracefully taught us many lessons of life.

This was Mr. Shetty's 1st poetry book which was a great success in 2011 published by Lead Start Publishing. This followed by a series of poetry books i.e. 'Breaking Silence' in four parts, under the same title but more varied topics to rhyme on. He was also a part of two anthologies i.e. Minds@work and Project Humming Bird. He is set to launch his novel 'Murdered to Moksha' soon.

'Silent Voices' is a must read for all the poetry lovers and also the non poetic readers. this book can be a great to start with, not just reading but will definitely inspire you to try your luck on expressing in rhymes.

GRAB YOUR COPY @ Rs. 48/-
http://www.landmarkonthenet.com/silent-voices-by-rohit-shetty-books-9789381115244-22255202/


- Ketki Borgaonkar.