Raw emotions. Inked.
It’s time we accept that we’re all different and unique in our own way. And to force, impose, influence or expect any person to not be what they are, as they are is nothing less than a crime!
Of course, I don’t mean let killers kill, kidnappers kidnap, looters loot! That’ll make you accessory to the crime! 😉
Be Bold. Be You.
Thank you, Akiraa, for nominating me for the 3 day Quote challenge.
Graciously Yours!
I saw girls being killed for being girls.
I saw Goddesses being prayed to for being girls.
I saw the rich removing the poor from near their shop windows.
I saw the rich feeding poor at the temples.
I heard that person complain about corruption.
I saw that person pay off the policeman.
I heard them saying nonsense.
I saw that common sense isn’t so common!
Voltaire, you see, was a very intelligent man!
Thank you, Akiraa, for nominating me for the 3 day Quote challenge.
Graciously Yours!
So here’s taking you through the ups and downs of a drunken night in Calcutta! 😉
Also reminded me of my cousin’s bachelor night!
Being in an expensive bar during happy hours is fun whether or not you are drunk. There are individuals trying to mend a broken heart, groups celebrating a birthday looting an individual, and couples dating while respecting the slowdown in the economy.
There is a saying here that if there are more than one utensils in a kitchen, they are bound to make sound – referring to the occasional arguments people in a family indulge into. Well, probably at the time this saying was made, bars were not so prevalent as they are now. The “sound” that the innocently drunk “utensils” make is sometimes enough to subside the loud music playing in the language of Martians which is further remixed by Wall-E.
It was the time of our graduation treat at The Irish House in Calcutta and we saw a couple enjoying an appealing drink. It was a cocktail in…
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In the One Word – Many Moments Flash Fiction series,
Previous Word : Rain.
She was bawling! He tried asking her what happened. Their mother shushed him.
“This is for you, Mary. You only get to play with this,” the mother said to her crying child.
“What happened, Mom?”
“She wants the train your Daddy bought for you.”
“Oh! I’ll get it for her. Wait.”
“No. She’ll play with her doll. Or else she’ll break both toys by tomorrow!”
“But she’s crying!”
“Let her cry. I’ll get her milk. You go and play with your train. Your friend is waiting for you,” the mother walked away, patting the boy on the head.
Quietly, he went into his room, picked up the train much to his friend’s surprise, and went and gave it to his step-sister.
“There you go!” he said, placing a peck on the three year old’s cheek, who miraculously stopped crying immediately!
***
“This time we’ll go to the fair together!” he told his son, placing him on his shoulder and walking around in the house looking for his wife.
“Maa! Maa! Papa’s back!” the child shouted excitedly.
“What happened?” asked the mother as she came out hurrying from the bathroom, soap suds on arms and a semi-washed towel in hand!
“We are going to the fair together this time! I got my leave from office,” a smiling husband told his wife.
The next morning, the little kid heard his parents talking. The police force required more personnel. The father’s leave had been cancelled. They didn’t know how to break it to the son.
“Papa, we’ll meet you at the fair. And then you can buy me an ice cream,” the kid said, boldly walking in to the room.
Tears welled up in two pairs of eyes.
***
Finally, a customer entered. She greeted the person with a bright smile!
“Would you by any chance have change worth Rs. 500?” he asked, extending a note of the same denomination.
Her face fell! She barely had 250 bucks in her cash counter! Her shop was running at a pace slower than a snail’s. She politely turned down his request. Murmuring not so kind words, he left the shop.
Soon enough she heard the dog whimper outside. Taking that as cue for her lunch hour, like everyday she divided her lunch into two equal halves. Keeping her part aside, she went and served the rest to the old street dog lying on her spare ‘WELCOME’ door mat by the side of the shop.
Graciously Yours!
P.S. : The sacrifices made silently are the ones most worthy of applause, because they are least driven by it!
Previous Word : Fire.
Graciously Yours!
Your eyes. Your eyes always saw the good in me. Your eyes reminded me of how much I should love myself. Your eyes were not scared to see my darkness. Your eyes took me in from bottom to top, within to without. Your eyes wanted to know me to the core, not just the crust.
Your eyes smiled each time I did. Your eyes scanned the crowd to catch just a glimpse of me. Your eyes didn’t waste a moment, not admiring me. Your eyes made me blush.
The fire destroyed it all! Your eyes were the last thing I saw before losing consciousness. Your eyes were also the first thing I saw after gaining consciousness.
That day it was to be either both of us or none. But you went away leaving me alone in this big, wide world. Or so I thought. Your eyes are now mine. And they still make me blush.
Graciously Yours!
This is one cab driver, to travel in whose car I’d even brave the 45 degree heat!
Presenting Dhananjay aka Bapi’s cab!
As reported by The Telegraph :
“Dhananjay’s is a green taxi in every sense, and his crusade one of a kind. The 40-year-old drives an Ambassador with a bed of real grass on its roof, eight potted plants placed on the tray behind the rear seat and a green interior to go with his message to save the environment and take care of trees.
Such is his passion for the green cause that he has spent more than Rs 22,000, equivalent to what he earns after toiling for a month and a half, on creating the bed of grass on the roof of his taxi. The vehicle, which he has named Sabuj Rath (green chariot in Bengali), has been grabbing eyeballs since Dhananjay unveiled its new look a couple of weeks ago.
Dhananjay hasn’t stopped at turning his taxi into a green zone. He carries a sheaf of leaflets to give to passengers and anyone curious enough to strike up a conversation with him. The leaflets contain small poems and sketches by Dhananjay, all of them about the environment. The design for the leaflets are by a passenger who went on to become his friend.
Dhananjay has also decorated the taxi stand at Tollygunge Karunamoyee with flowerpots and regularly distributes seeds and saplings among passengers and passers-by who show interest.
He has a Facebook account called Bapi Green Taxi and his email ID is bapigreentaxi@gmail.com, where passengers and well-wishers can write in with their suggestions.”
Graciously Yours!
P.S. : Can anyone smell an entrepreneurial venture or is it just me? Contact me and we’ll discuss further! 😉
P.S.: Would any one of you be gracious enough to come up with another word I can work on?
Two months ago, I’d shared the plight of a poor, homeless man.
Today, he’s missing. For the past two weeks, actually. Should I rather say dead? Because he was barely being able to walk twenty days ago. A friend, on the man’s request carried him two feet away to where he wanted to sit. Then we saw him take out a packet of smokeless tobacco (Wiki pages lead to dipping tobacco being the most suitable variety) and consume it.
My concern for him suddenly vanished when I saw the pack of smokeless tobacco (commonly called khaini in India). I hastily concluded that he must have brought this situation upon himself. You must be wondering why I was concerned in the first place?
Jump to a month ago. For many days, I’d routinely noticed him and his actions. Those five seconds when I crossed him almost every day. He had a plastic bottle suspended from a rope and he would be moving it in a circular motion. I’d have put up a picture of it, if I had one, but I deliberately chose not to click his picture. I didn’t want to intrude into his privacy or whatever was left of it at least. Out of curiosity, the aforementioned friend asked him one day what exactly was the man doing. You know what he said? In a clear voice, in English, “Life is a circle”.
Another day I caught him muttering something. Seemed a little foreign to me. I heard more carefully, and it took me back to my seventh grade science classes.
He was muttering :
You must be wondering that he must have picked up the formula from someone, somewhere. Or that he must have been hit with early school days memories. Or that he may be a man of good education befallen to such hopeless and helpless times. I don’t know which one it is. And I’ll forever keep wondering.
Coming back to khaini, today it dawned upon me that maybe that was all he could afford to eat! Or maybe that was his escape from reality. Harsh, but true. Unacceptable, but needs to be accepted. Painful, yet routine.
Once at God’s door. No more…
Graciously Yours!
P.S. : Every one has a story waiting to be said. We never spoke. But he still compelled me to wonder about his.
Staring ahead fondly,
She looked at her beau,
White skinned among her coloured relatives,
He was the object of affection.
And speculation.
Graciously Yours!
Inking The Thinking. 