Posted in Fiction, Humor

Annoying Neighbours

It was 2:30 in the morning.

The doorbell rang.

I opened the door, a bit annoyed. ‘Why the hell would people disturb anyone at this hour’, I thought.

It was my next door neighbour. He just wanted to borrow some salt.

I gave him a small portion of it, he said “Good night, have a good sleep now, it is late” and went away.

I thought, ‘ It is lucky I was awake, practising rock music on my electric guitar. Else the bugger would have remained salt-less till morning’

How can people be so inconsiderate.

Annoying neighbour

  • Photo picked directly from google and I claim no ownership of it.
Posted in Article, Rumblings

No Child’s Play

We cannot always build a future for our youth, but we can always build our youth for the future.  – Franklin D Roosevelt

The news on the TV shows a child with a firearm. The title just says that he is a child soldier.

The kid, who should be playing catch with a ball, is now playing suicide with bombs.

What has the world come to, when such kids are being targeted via hate chat boards. This an improper using of chat and message boards and overall social media. Though, social media is not supposed to be at blame. it was meant to bring people together and build relations and thus spread love.

The youth/ teanagers are rebelious. They always have been, throughout the history of mankind. But when did this rebellious youth turn from running out and smoking a cigarette, to becoming a child soldier ?

It is a sad day indeed, when kids are being brought into the wars of men.

Posted in Fiction, Humor, Rumblings

Power outage testing

I was watching a TV series when a thought came into my mind.

Why do the characters go out and check their electric meters when the lights go out ? check if the entire area is out of electricity supply.It is not as if your previous 10 generations were electricians and your is the 11th generation.

Now, you may be wondering why this came up, so let me give you a sneak peek into my thought process.

In Pune (India), where I live, electricity cuts are very rare (contrary to popular belief). Which means, whenever there is a power outage, it is usually announced well in advanced. The possible causes are mostly maintenance, power cuts across the national grid or first drop of rain (don’t know why,but it always is the case).

Now, whenever I face such an outage, I first peep out of the window to check if the apartment next to mine has also gone dark. If it is day time, there is usually a house wife who is talking on a phone explaining to the other house wife that there is an outage at the other end.

Once confirmed that there is an outage, then I proceed to call the electricity board to lodge a complain and find out when the power will be restored.

If, however, the surrounding apartments show no such signs of outage, then I do not proceed to check my power meter.

Long exposures to such TV series / Films have taught me that there is always a killer in waiting. I proceed to call the electrician and have him look into the matter, albeit for a nominal fee.

So, Beware …


* This article was sponsored by “Flash Electricians”.

Their tag line :

“Afraid of getting Zapped ? Worry no more, we will help you.”

Posted in Short Story

A twist in tail

I was adopted when I was very young. A baby, actually. The family who adopted me, came into the orphanage one day, grabbed me from my cage and took me home. I still remember the feel of that blanket. I was wrapped into this soft blanket, probably by my biological parents. Smooth,silky and musty, it would soon become the only link with them. The blanket quickly became my favourite piece of cloth. It was always besides my cosy bed. That was the day I met my parents.

Father, was very fond of me when I was young. We used to play all the time. He was a cricket fan, so our favourite activity was to play  catch with the ball. I still remember the smell of the grass from the garden we used to play every evening. I purposefully rolled around in the grass. I loved it. Father knew that and so did not mid when I got mud all over my body.

After playing, we used to return home, have a small, quick wash(which I hated) and then I would sit on his lap, while he worked away on his desk till dinner was ready. I always loved the rhythmic typing he did when he sat on the desk. Although I never understood why he disappeared for hours on end in the morning, I was certain that he would appear late in the evening.

I used to love the boy who gave us our paper. Father loved when I fetched the newspaper for him in the early moring. I even used to bring his footwear when I thought he was about to go out of our house.

Mother, would always cook healthy and delicious food for us. They always cooked seperately for me, made me feel special. She would bath me in the morning, took me for my walks around the city, often to my favourite places. I especially loved the light poles and the small but thick poles (never knew what they were supposed to be for). For some reason they fascinated me. I even met others like me on our walks in the morning. Some of the people used to bend down to pat my head, some even gave a peck on my forehead.

I was having the best time of my life.

But all of this changed, suddenly after a few rainy seasons, as I got older.

Mom would no longer take interest in taking me for walks. She became fat. Even Father lost interest in me. No more games in the playground. The food was now straight out of a plastic bag and it smelled weird. Even my bed started to smell bad as it was not washed.Things were not looking good.I couldn’t even sit on my father’s lap.

Suddenly mom was taken away in a car. She seemed in terrible pain. Father went after her in the car. But they refused to take me in the car. They shouted at me. But I did not care. My mother was in trouble. I ran behind the car, but soon lost sight of it.

I returned home, eventually, worried about my mother. Father came home late that night, fed me, ate and then went out again.He looked very unhappy. It was a long night.I saw him again a bit late in the day, the next day. Now, he seemed happy and content, yet mother was nowhere to be seen. He fed me took me for a short walk and then vanished again. I was alone for the entire day.

This situation remained true for a few sunrises, when one day I finally saw mother !

Oh the joy!

I was ecstatic. I tied to leap on her lap, but father shouted at me. That’s when I noticed “her”. Like me, she was wrapped in a small blanket. Looked like I had a sister.

A few more days went by. My sister was still the center of attraction, but I loved her. I kept guard over her, being the older brother. I did not allow anyone other than mother and father to touch her. If anyone else tried, I would growl at them to warn them to stay away. No one hurts my sister!

But, now that I think back, I think mother and father did not like that. They used to growl at me to stop doing that.

Then one day, father took me out for a walk in the car. It was the happiest day in a long while.  I was finally being taken out after a long long time. probably for the first time since my sister came home.

I always loved the wind on my ears and tongue when I took my head out during these long drives. We stopped at a new place today. It looked like a corn field. I loved open spaces. Father  let me out of the car and told me to run.

So I ran. I ran to my heart’s content. It felt nice. I felt free. It had been so long since I ran so much. Eventually the excitement died down and then I realized, father was gone !

Where did he go ? Did he leave me here ? Nah. I am sure he will come back. Afterall, I am his good boy. I always wagged my tail in agreement whenever he called me a good boy.

I waited, but he never came back…

I think,they did not want me around, now that they had a baby girl to take care of. There was no place in their life for heir dog now.

Posted in Humor, Life

Day(s) our lives

We have heard stories, jokes and now mostly memes that Monday is a very bad day, being the first working day of the week in most part of the word for most of the professions.

I disagree, however. I think Wednesday is the worst day of the week. I know such an outrageous statement begs an explanation. So here it is.

Monday : You spend most of the day retrospecting what you did on the weekend and daydreaming about the exiting moments of your life. also wondering if the odd photo on Facebook would garner record likes, or perhaps hoping a very odd photo would never reach the Facebook.

Tuesday : Just head down and working like a donkey/ slog , completely aware that there are still 4 days to go, but relaxed of the fact that you just came from holiday a day before.

Wednesday : Middle of the week. Worked for too long, yet too long to go before yet another weekend. You have no prospect of a break and loosing all faith to live.(exaggeration perhaps) You are now so tired(mentally and completely based on unfounded belief that you don’t enjoy working ). The break you took, seemed way into the past and the one coming, very much into the future.

Thursday : Just one more day to go before the weekend. Very much exited.

Friday : The weekend is almost here. The killer anticipation of the 5 o’ clock ring, is energizing. Very much looking forward to the weekend.

Saturday / Sunday : Weekend !

Now, some might say “If you enjoy your work, every day is a weekend”.

Well, in that case, how is that called taking a break from your routine ?