I Hate Roshan Uncle - 55 Fiction

24 comments
October 21, 2009 Pune, India - This is my very first attempt to get involved into a 55 fiction story. I have been going through this genre of literary writings for a while recently. The stuff reminds me of the precis writing exercises during my school days.

What-so-ever, here is the story:


"The little one carried her new doll everywhere. It was a birthday gift from Roshan uncle, their family friend.


It was a break from those mundane chocolates, thought the little one.

Her parents loved their neighbors, their being caring and generous.

But she was unhappy about something, untold.


Few years later, she burned her doll."



Stunned? Now, if you are one of those who are parenting a child and still wondering the reason behind this, then I owe you nothing but pity. Child abuse is penetrating deeper and deeper into the veins of our society yet there has been a very little or negligible awareness in this regard.

I really wonder, how many of us would dare to stand up against this sadistic behavior. I also wonder how many of the parents are aware of their child's past and if s/he could ever gather the guts to speak that out. Many grow up, carrying a faint memory of their past somewhere in the corner of their brains yet prefer to keep mum.

Is it ever going to stop?

Parents of today, are getting busier than ever before. Baby sitters and neighbors have always been ready for their rescue. But, you could never adjudge their trustworthiness. The next time when your child says that s/he doesn't like someone, believe it because there is no face that a Roshan Uncle possesses.

Accolades: This post was referred by BlogAdda - the week of 24th October, 2009

Click on the image to get linked to the Spicy Saturday Picks post by BlogAdda on 24th October, 2009. They just keep dishing such wonderful posts and the least a community can do is support them.

24 comments :

Post a Comment

The Lament Of A Golden Ring

21 comments
October 15, 2009 Pune, India - It was raining heavily that Friday afternoon. After a late lunch, her mother-in-law looked busy watching the afternoon television program. The day’s long work was making her weary; left with almost no energy to enjoy the show. She watched her mother-in-law who seemed so engrossed into the show that she didn’t dare to interrupt her. The show would last for another hour and that would give her enough time to grab a quick nap, she thought. Finally, with a heavy load of weariness, she moved on and reached the bedroom. She saw her father-in-law sleeping peacefully on the bed. She decided not to enter and came back to the kitchen to sleep.

The downpour seemed almost unstoppable. She stood in front of the kitchen window watching the rain. A sudden thunder, although a few miles away, scared her for a moment. She looked out of the window over the roof of the adjacent house. Her sleepy eyes were glued at the romantic pair of the pigeons. She always loved to watch birds. The newlywed held the window pane with her hand and secretly continued watching them in their nest. They made her think of her husband for whom she was waiting eagerly.

She was recalling the last three months of her new life and realized the way things had changed drastically in her life. Often she felt sad to have been departed from her parents’ place. It was her mom to whom she missed a lot. She remembered how she had convinced her mom, that she would be able to adjust herself in the cramped house of her in-laws. Things seemed so difficult to her in the start, her mind was so skeptical about her new life, new family members and the most crucial was the man on whom she had relentlessly believed to live her life with. She was not really bothered of it all. She liked what her parents had chosen for her future. Was it her parents? Not really, they had merely supported her decision. Never in her life before, had she given a thought to the fact that her life would change so much all of a sudden.

Her mind continued to wander in the past until she went to sleep.

She saw a dream.

"We don't wish to hear that again! A gold chain and a ring is what a groom's ritual must consist of" spoke a hoarse voice.

"I am sorry...", said a meek voice, "I really cannot afford this. Please try to understand my situation. This was never brought up before the engagement. I am really sorry. I cannot afford it. I am already struggling with my debts" the voice pleaded.

She woke up wide awake. She was able to feel the sound of the racing heartbeats. It was not a dream for real. It was the resurrection of the events in the past. Everything seemed so green in her mind. The dream made her revisit the wrinkled face of her poor father. She cursed herself for being the reason behind the soaring EMIs he paid to the Bank. His savings had yet proved futile to buy a golden ring to his son-in-law. The dream reminded her of the cries of her weeping mother who was equally helpless as her husband's savings.

She was unable to take the pain anymore. It was her mom's voice that she was dying to hear . She came out of the kitchen. Her mother-in-law still seemed uninterrupted by her approach in the drawing room. She walked up towards the telephone and dialed a number.

"Hello, Ma... It's me, Seema" she said, hastily.

"How are you Ma...? I miss you a lot... I just called up to say..." her speech was interrupted as her mother-in-law pulled back the receiver from her hand.

"Shut up, you freebie! It's not your mother who pays the telephone bill" said the in-law as she banged the receiver down on the table.

Her eyes were now filled with tears. She came back to the kitchen window. Her eyes were transfixed back to the pigeon’s nest. There were three of them now. The female bird held her eggs. The other two were filling her beak with the food that they had brought.

She burst out crying.

Accolades: This post was chosen as the Best Post from the Indian Blogosphere by BlogAdda - the week of 20th October, 2009

Who : Neeraj Shinde
What : The Lament Of A Golden Ring
Tangy : The plight of many women in the Indian Society has been portrayed in this post by Neeraj. Neeraj has been dishing out some wonderful posts from time to time and this is one of them. A post which you cannot miss reading.

21 comments :

Post a Comment

Once Upon A Monday Morning...

10 comments
October 10, 2009, India - It was the Monday Morning again and numerous things were haunting his weary mind. A weekend proved futile to soothe his much pressurized mind and soul. Why there has to be a Monday every time after the Sunday evening, he thought as he blamed himself for his state. Life has always been like that and today was a no exception to it, he tried to convince himself as he took his seat in his cubicle. He opened his office bag and got out his laptop computer, placed it on the desk and turned it on.

He continued to stare at its booting screen. With every moment that passed by, his blood pressure rose just as the loading progress bar which gradually moved towards the right. He looked down at his pot belly and thought about the escalation of the issue that took place in his project last Friday. It was not that he was a bad employee at work; sometimes things just happen and get out of control. Nevertheless, it was time to confront the new week. He must overcome all his fears, no matter what and that was the need of the time. He held his breathe for a while and started to recollect the events that occurred last week. Just as his laptop completed loading its contents into its memory, he seemed to be back with a recollection of all that he needed to complete for the day. Life has become so mechanical and it simply sucks, he thought.

A smile spread on his face just as he glared at the wallpaper of his computer - the car that he had recently bought. It seemed an expensive one but not for the ones who can easily afford it by paying all in hard cash. He loved his possessions just as every other office guy. All that life expected from him was to work for them, spend long hours sitting inside his cubicle and carry strains, tensions - Tit for Tat. Nothing is fetched in so easy after all, he thought. Despite all that he had, it never fetched him happiness. He hated his work, his boss and colleagues alike. He decided to come out of the early Monday phobia by grabbing a small cup of coffee from the vending machine. It was this liquid, that passed from one machine to the mouth of another that formed the key ingredient of the company's success, he thought sometimes.

I have to drink it, I have to work upon this shit and I have to finish this by this week - his thoughts continued.

He came back to his seat.

"Aahh...” he murmured in pain as a sudden stroke in his heart took over his control.

The very next moment he found himself on the floor. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the pain which just penetrated deeper and deeper with every moment that passed. And then it was dark, no feelings, no stress and no fear. He realized that what happened to him was paranormal. All he now knew was that he was feeling light, lighter than a feather. It was bright, brighter than the sun all over. He tried to look at himself, but it was nothing that he found to look at. It was something supernatural that had took him over. Suddenly, he was glued at the sight he came across. He was able to have a visual sense of his body that was lying on the floor, the chair which was tilted over the ground and his colleagues trying to wake up his body. He waited there, astonished and puzzled. It was him. Am I dead? He asked himself.

"Hello son!” a strong voice diverted his attention.

The voice was divine. It was like he had, never in his life, heard before. Although it sounded strange, he felt like it was kinda familiar. But he lacked enough memory to which he could relate this voice to. He looked straight upwards and halted his vision at a shadow which he came across.

"Yes, that's you my dear! You have decided to shed away your weary and discontented body this time. Follow me my son!” the shadow said.

"What?... Please don't..., God...” he stuttered.

"It's okay son. You have already had a rough journey until here. Don't worry" the shadow insisted.

He looked back at his lifeless body in grief. The office employees had by now gathered at his desk; each one trying his turn to bring him back to his senses. He stole a moment to think about all the pending tasks he had left behind - his family members, his only daughter, his job, unfulfilled promises, dreams and commitments. A feeling of guilt covered him as he felt sorry for hating his job.

"It's too early for me God. I want to finish a lot of stuff. I owe so many things to many people... please... I want to...” he spoke in despair.

The shadow listened calmly to every word that he spoke and to every plead he made. He was restless and seemed with a zest.

"There you are my son. You want to do it. That sounds like zeal to me.", said the voice. "I came to you as I heard your heart saying, you have to do it. Things are always easy when you say you want to. You still have time son. I cannot take you away against the power of your will. Bless you", proclaimed the voice.

A sudden jerk woke him up from the chair he was sitting upon. He took a look around. For a moment, he was unable to understand what was happening to him. Is this a reality or was that a dream? His thoughts resumed wandering into his mind. It must be a dream for sure. He recollected the words he had just heard. It wasn't the voice of the God but a thought from his inner self. He smiled at himself and opened up the email from his Inbox - this time with a zest. His work, now had realized a new purpose and it seemed much easier for him than before.

Most of the times, things are merely done because you have to; but, it makes a huge difference in your life when you do it because you want to.

10 comments :

Post a Comment

Mindless Actions And The ACL Reconstruction

29 comments
October 07, 2009 Pune, India - As a child, I had always been inclined towards adventures. During the days when I was so tiny that I was meant to be carried in the arms of my Mum, I rather cried to walk with her finger in my hand. With the passage of time, this passion has seen a drastic rise and my love towards the swaying adrenaline levels has observed no negative momentum. I have been testing my guts right since my high school days - mindless jumping in the sand from the under-construction buildings, somersaults in the school garden for which I had earned an accolade of fracturing my left wrist and so on. Gradually, I had developed this unusual passion for diving and capturing aerial self-photographs. This had just started to soar to a dream of sky-diving until a couple of years back when I was deeply de-motivated by the ACL (Anterior Cruciate Ligament) injury in my right knee.

Well, that sounds serious right? Indeed, I know I had screwed up myself to the extent that my any sort of adventurous moves in the near future were going to be jeopardized. An ACL tear and the subsequent reconstruction surgery is one of the worst experiences one can have in life. This post describes my experience on the topic and possibly guides those people who are looking for this option in order to fix their ACL injury or the so called Sportsman's injury.

The ACL tear: Just before the Halloween of the year 2007, I had been to the Coorg district of Karnataka State in India on a vacation with my friends. The enchanting climate and the mind blasting natural beauty of the place didn't stop me from getting adventurous. We decided to climb a rocky cliff (without any safety precautions or a rope) on our way - now that is what I call a mindless adventure, insane and crazy. Almost all of us climbed mid way of the cliff but I was the only one who decided to jump from a twenty feet high altitude. And now this is where everything went wrong. Neither my mind nor my calculations worked. While I was mid-way in the air, rushing rapidly towards the rock solid surface, I realized the insanity of the decision I had made. Although I successfully managed to land on my feet, a cracking sound from my knee almost immobilized my further movement. Initially, it felt like a bone cracking sound which made me feel it was a fracture. It was just when the doctor examined my MRI scanning report; I came to know that it was a ligament tear - in fact, a complete ACL tear. Immediately after the injury occurred, it was accompanied by the swelling of my knee. The pain was so acute that it restricted even my slightest move.


Why Surgery?
Many would be merely traumatized by the idea of getting operated on oneself to fix their ligament issue. Certain doctors may advise not to opt for surgery if the tear is not so significant. In which case, the victim must learn to be extra cautious about his adventurous moves all throughout his life. Although, at times the victim might feel pretty confident that the injury no more exists, he runs a high chance of getting his tear escalated due to any miscalculated body movement. Some victims, over a period of time, so efficiently learn to adjust their knee movements that they never realize that they are still a victim of a chronic ACL tear. In my case, it was a complete tear and I had no option other than to surgically reconstruct my ACL.

The Surgery: Believe me, a surgery is a no good experience. I was half dead, literally in the operation theatre when a wicked troop of surgeons performed their experiments on me. I was injected something using a needle that penetrated deep into my abdominal spine and within a few seconds, I was paralyzed and had zero sensation below my stomach. The surgery was performed arthroscopically meaning, a cut is made into your body and a camera is inserted into it to perform the surgery. The minute aspects of the surgical process are continuously observed on a video screen. I am sure the hospital must be having the recording of the entire procedure, which I would never like to ever watch. For over an hour, I kept on hearing the sounds of the drill machine, scary stuff, reminded me of the jigsaw killer of the SAW movie series. I kept on feeling thirsty at times, probably due to loss of water from the body during the process. Finally it was over. Gradually within 3-4 hours time, I got my sensation back and I was happy to notice that I was actually able to move my left leg.

The Rehabilitation: Life was miserable immediately after the surgery. I spent a few days on the hospital bed with regular appointments of the physiotherapist. My knee was supported by a knee brace all the time. Despite exerting full body energy, sometimes it seemed impossible to lift my knee. I was frightened by my doctor saying, if I fail to perform the exercises, my leg would be a dead leg. This fear motivated me and I gradually picked up the speed. During the first week after the surgery, I used a walker to move around the restroom. Later, I was told to put my entire body weight on my operated leg. The trauma still existed which reminded me of the day the injury occurred. It took another week for me to get out of the phobia. I was advised to use walking crutches for another couple of months. Initially, it was hard to believe that I needed crutches but day after day, I was comfortable using it. I used them for a month and gradually got rid of them. The day I threw them, seemed to be one of the happiest day of my life.

The second and third month, I took extra precautions in every step I took. I made sure that I do not exert unnecessary strain over my injured knee. In the second month after the surgery, I was able to bend my knee completely. Nevertheless, it was still very weak and timid. Exercising was the only way to build up the strength and vigor into the muscles around my knee. Six months passed by and I was by the time used to my new life. By this time, I attempted to run gently and tried to gain my lost confidence back. My exercise routine was now extremely irregular but the strength in the knee improved with every day that passed by.

This month, this nightmare is going to observe its 2nd anniversary. After the accident, life has taken a different turn - not that I have stopped being adventures but I am now able to differentiate good adventures from the mindless ones.


29 comments :

Post a Comment