Return of the Prodigal Son

It is a dark and dreary night, one where even the moon has taken refuge behind the dark clouds. There is a slight drizzle, and a heavy wind threatens to break the strongest trees in sight. Every now and then the sky is illuminated by shards of lightning, which recede as quickly as they come, leaving the night shrouded in desolate darkness once again. The rumble of thunder soon follows, and retreats immediately. The blood curdling howls of lonely wolves pierce the night.

A lone figure walks through the night, unfazed by the darkness surrounding it. The figure is covered in a dark cloak, and walks slowly, as if it is tired and weary. But the footsteps of this lonely figure seem sure, as if it treads familiar path. The brief flash of lightning illuminates the face of this figure ever so briefly – the man seems young, but his face appears weary, as if he has passed through a lot of anguish, both mental and physical. The most shocking feature of his bearded face is his eyes – those dead, lifeless eyes.

He walks down the broken road leading up to a towering mansion. The brief flashes of lightning illuminate the silhouette of the mansion, and highlight the lack of a boundary wall – for what glorious mansion lacks a wall? Only one which accepts all visitors. The man slowly approaches the front door of the mansion. The towering oak doors stand firm in front of him. He raises his hand to knock – and he eyes the engraved name next to the door – “WordPress”. He places his hand on the door, and knocks in a specific sequence – one that would seem gibberish to any passers-by, but which had a very special meaning for him.

The man steps back after knocking, waiting anxiously. His face seems even more weary and rugged. The rain starts to gain strength and he wraps his cloak even tighter. The oak doors slide upon with remarkable ease, but the interior remained dark. A voice calls from within – “After how many years?”

The cloaked man shivers – from the cold or from the memories, one cannot tell. “Four”, he responds.

“More than four”, comes the voice from within the mansion.

“Perhaps”, says the cloaked man. “Am I still allowed inside?”

“Enter”, commands the shapeless voice. “But know that no one here expects you to stay”

The cloaked man drags his body unsteadily past the threshold, and the oak doors swing shut. But not before the shapeless voice calls out into the mansion

“The prodigal son has returned. Again”

Looking Back

Time has a way of making us fools. When we as people begin to feel in control and feel nothing can faze us, time knocks us gently on the back of our heads and forces us to turn around. And turning around is a fascinating thing.

Our lives, no matter how mundane or normal we think they have been, are filled with memories. The tears we cried when we felt our fingers slip from our parents’ hands and we walked to school for the first time. The uncaring laughter we shared with our very first friends. The incredible experience of having a story unfold before our very eyes in the cinemas. The first time we felt that swooping sensation in the pit of our stomach, the daydreaming which told us we had fallen in love. The despair, the loneliness we felt when something didn’t work out. The tears we shed when we said goodbye to our school friends with a promise to keep in touch but never did. Our first day in college, our first job, the day we set out to do something, the day we created something. These memories, these moments etched in time, these indelible moments, they move us, shCapture1ape us and create us.

Four years ago, I created my wordpress account. It was a time when I badly needed a release for a lot of frustration. Writing helped me do that. The years in college changed me and helped me mature as a person. And all through that I wrote. I wont claim to be the most dedicated person because I haven’t been. I took  many a hiatus, sometimes for too long. But something dragged me back. Something that was mine. This place right here. This website, this URL. This is mine, and I created it. This is my fortress, my palace, and to quote JK Rowling, “it will always be there to welcome me home”.

In these four years, I have matured, evolved and shared some experiences which will hopefully help someone like me. I had the good fortune of getting to know some wonderful people, and making some good friends. I was fortunate to have a great support group. And all I want to say is “Thank You”.

Paul Heyman said, “I don’t look back. I never spend my time looking back, I spend my time looking forward.” I agree with Mr. Heyman completely. But I feel, at least sometimes, we need to look back. Not to sit and cry over the days that are behind us, but to learn from our mistakes. And take pride in whatever good we did. We need to look forward constantly, but we need the help of our past to create our future.

Before I take leave, I want to say one more thing. All of us have made mistakes in our past. I have done some things which I am not proud of. But that realization that I made those mistakes and the simple realization that those were in fact mistakes makes us a pretty good human being. We can always redeem ourselves. We cannot change our past, we can change our future.

Our past did indeed shape us, but our past doesn’t have to define us.


Do you remember the time when you were little, and in awe of superheroes? We all had our favourites -Superman, Spiderman, Batman and so on. And we used to ask each other the question “If you could have one superpower, what would it be?” Some of us wanted to fly, some wanted inhuman strength. For me it was being invisible. I cannot remember why I wanted to be invisible, to be honest. Oh, and if that seems a little perverted to you, I’d advise to get your mind washed, because it had obviously been 170049-im-invisiblein the gutter. But to the matter at hand, we all wished we had those superpowers, but we never got them. Right? For mortals like you maybe. I am living my dream.

I am invisible.

But not in the way I imagined. Or the way you imagined. People can see me alright, and I am about as solid as the brick wall I didn’t see because I was thinking about this post. But I am invisible to a lot of people. I’ve had people come up to me after three years in college and say, “I have never seen you. Do we go to the same college?” Girls won’t look twice at me (or even once, ’cause I’m invisible baby…), and I have never had a girlfriend (*hint* I am single 😀 ).

I can see you pulling out your puppy eyes and feeling sorry for me, but don’t be. I chose this. I forced myself into this corner. And I have no regrets (well, maybe the girlfriend thing makes me sad a little…). But being an introvert, it actually is a lot better to be invisible. I don’t like to party, and I don’t do small talk with people I barely know. I smile at them, and they smile back, and that’s it. Anything more than that will make me uncomfortable. This is probably why I became invisible in the first place. I don’t go out and mingle with people, I tend to have a couple of friends with whom I talk deeply and intensely. I stay away from raucous celebrations and parties, I tend to prefer reading a book, watching a movie or writing. Given these facts, it is actually a blessing to be invisible because then I don’t get invited to anything, so I don’t have to bother coming up with an excuse (apparently I am an introvert is not acceptable…).

To all the extroverts reading this, you guys are perfect. You represent the perfect human being that society envisions. You represent the extrovert ideal that came up after globalization. I want to talk to the introverts. It’s okay to be different. It’s okay to want to spend time alone, and not go to parties. It’s fine to just have a few friends and not be the gregarious one. It’s fine to be you. I am not asking you not to change. I am asking you not to change for others. We are fine the way the Lord created us.

I don’t know why, but I want to leave these lines…If you have time just ponder on these…

“We can’t all be captains,
We’ve got to be crew.”


Life and Death

This post comes after a long hiatus. During this time I wandered over to Wattpad and began writing a story there. A little later, I trailed off and the story stays there unfinished. A new year was born, and a lot of things happened. And I saw Talvar.

A superb movie based on the Noida Double Murder case, made even incredible by Irrfan Khan’s acting. This movie really got me thinking, and I began searching online for details on the case (I had followed it back in 2008, and then gradually lost touch). And I found out about Aarushi.

Aarushi Talwar was an exceptionally smart, brilliant, pretty and popular student of DPS Noida. She loved life, and made the lives of others around her brighter. Her friends say she was an all-rounder, and was guided by a strong sense of right and wrong, even at that age. But fate had to cruel. On May 16, 2008, she was found murdered in her bed. I wouldn’t want to go into the gory details of the crime, but I want you to imagine this. She went to bed feeling happy, having received an early birthday gift from her parents, and she never woke up.

As I was browsing around for information on this case, I found a link to another young girls blog, Tejaswee Rao. Her blog posts were brilliantly crafted, displaying a maturity and sensitivity far beyond her years. But fate had to play his cruel game again. Tejaswee Rao passed away on August 11th 2010 from Dengue Fever.

First off, our hearts go out to all their near and dear ones. May God help you find strength to deal with your loss. And we hope both of your souls rest in peace.

Second, I do not seek to make any comparison for the two cases, except for the fact that two extremely brilliant and thoughtful young girls were taken away by fate. As I read these stories, it dawns on me how very unpredictable our lives are. Truly, any of us could be gone by the time tomorrow dawns. And what did we do in the meantime? Maybe we should invest our time more thoughtfully. Because we never know how much time we have left. We could be nearing our end. And before we leave shouldn’t we leave the world with something? We may not be able to make grand claims, and emancipate everyone, but at least we can make the world around us a better place to live. We can make someone else’s life a bit more brighter. We can make someone smile.

Then, when we leave this world, we will be remembered. Maybe not by erecting statues, or a national day of mourning, but someone will remember us. They will look fondly back on our life, and say, “He/she made my life better”. Isn’t that the greatest legacy we can hope to leave behind ?

This also made me aware of one thing. I will never stop writing. If my blog posts make someone smile, if I can make someone feel a bit stronger, if I can help someone just a little bit, I want to do it.

And I hope you will too.

Portrait of a Loner

He walked the tarred road with his friends. The air was still but a certain pleasant coolness hung around the air. Despite the chill, he was sweating mildly. He wiped the sweat off his lips with his hand as he watched the people around him. Not his friends. Not them. The others. The ones that made him uneasy.

The road was bustling with people. People laughing, enjoying, taking pictures and talking loudly. The kind of people that he hated and dreaded at the same time. The people who were quite unlike him, different from him, and – he realized with a sting- people he desperately wanted to be like. Next to him, his friends laughed. So did he, but you could sense it was a hollow laugh. he hadn’t heard a word of what they had said. But it was convincing, as if he had been giving that sort of a laugh for a long time now. No, he wasn’t listening to them. he was lost in his world, his thoughts, the same thoughts that he found solace in, where he built his beautiful empire, and strangely the same thoughts that sometimes attempted to strangle him.

His eyes scanned the crowd, flitting from person to person, face to face, but he had become so good at it that no one around him realized. He was browsing the entire crowd with no
one noticing. And then the source of the noise came into sight. A small building stood on the side of the road, but they wouldn’t have noticed it if they hadn’t known it was there. The hall was surrounded by people. People wearing smart dresses, neatly brushed up attires. He looked down at his own faded T-shirt and jeans. He felt undressed, he felt out of place. They all stopped near the crowd. None of them wanted to go inside. They just wanted to stand there and watch. Music was playing somewhere near, and a small distance away, people were dancing. He looked around. he didn’t recognize anyone, and he didn’t expect to either. He was hardly popular, he barely knew anyone.

A group of people moved close to them. Girls and boys were holding hands, taking selfies, and girls were pouting. He looked away, as though the sight burned him. But he couldn’t avert his eyes. Everywhere he looked it was the same thing. Girls and boys were talking, laughing and enjoying, even dancing. He was uncomfortable. His friends didn’t seem to notice because visibly he was disinterested. He was merely looking bored, but inside he was burning. He moved his eyes one more time and saw a girl standing alone a few feet from him. She was quite pretty, and stunningly dressed.She was sweating slightly in the warmth, and it turned him on. He kept watching her, and occasi
onally other girls as well, but a little later they all left with boys. The girl he was watching was still there, and he kept looking without anyone knowing. And then she turned. A boy had just joined her and she began talking to him.

He tore his eyes from the sight as he felt his heart sink a little. Everyone here had a boyfriend, and even if they didn’t they wouldn’t be interested in him. Definitely not someone like him. He had learned this years ago, but it still hurt. Moments like these hurt. He looked around and saw his friends still looking around, enjoying. None of them had any girlfriends, but they did, at some point. They were not like him. They didn’t feel the pain, only he did.

He turned around and walked back. But this time, he kept his eyes down. He didn’t want to see any more. He didn’t want to see anything. Because he knew it would burn him. And he didn’t want to get burned again. Because he had been getting burned for a long time now. Quite a long time. It had begun nearly a decade ago. And it still continued to this day.


Remember Chetan Bhagat’s novel Two States? Or atleast the movie? IF you don’t, then don’t try to. Because there is a new kid on the block, and he is well on his way to being the sheriff.

Just to jog your memory, Two States chronicled (that seems incredibly formal…given that the book was way more informal) the love story of a Punjabi boy with a Tamil Brahmin girl (I won’t say South Indian, because frankly, I am South Indian and I know we are too diverse to be categorized under one heading…). It goes through the troubles they have of convincing their orthodox parents and making them get along. But that was set way back in the ’90s, when even cell phones were just coming up. Ever thought what would it be like if it took place now? In the ultra modern world? Well, I know how it will be and I have three words for you…

Bang. Baaja. Baaraat.                                                                                  

Bang Baaja Baaraat is a web series launched last week by Y films, the youth wing of the famed Yash Raj films. It tells the story of a traditional Brahmin boy “Punnu” (Ali Fazal) and a modern Punjabi girl Shahana (Angira Dhar…cuite!!!), who meet at a… well…you guess it…( Clue: There is a BANG in the title…) and fall in love. They keep their relationship super-secretive and and inform their parents only when they actually decide to get married. What follows is a culture clash that is too funny to behold.

I am not saying much, I will let you see it and be the judge. I will say this, this web series is incredibly funny, modern, has quite some… bang…shall I say…and can give romantic comedies a run for their money. So please do go and watch it and be entertained…

(Oh… and Angira Dhar…she is so cute!!! I can’t stop looking at her…I mean huge fan…huge fan!!!)


Episode 1

Episode 2

Y films channel

How does it feel to be NORMAL??

I have been wondering this for quite a long time, and I feel now the thoughts shall burst forth onto the canvas and possibly create a melee of colours which someone may mistake for art. Because I am about to rant about my life and quite possibly yours as well. I am about to call into question everything that we believe in. Because, quite simply I am about to question what being normal is…

I am not normal. I will say that out loud. I will vouch for that statement anywhere. Because I have been exploring the deepest darkest corners of my mind for so long, I know what I am. I know who I am. But today of all the days, as I sat lazing around in my room, staring blankly at the piles of work that I haven’t made a dent in, I realized something is inherently wrong with me.  A gene perhaps, misplaced or missed. That would certainly explain quite a lot. As I sat scrolling up and down my list of whatsapp contacts, wondering who to message, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, I am different. I am an anomaly. I am the odd one out.

My thoughts go back a couple of days, then back to a couple of years. I messaged my friends, I messaged my crushes, I messaged my cousins. Those conversations lasted a couple of minutes. Some even lasted days, and then, inevitably there was silence. And in between those silent streaks, I’d take the initiative, not once but many many times to send a simple hi or how are you. I am met with silence, or those stoic one word replies which mean just one thing – they are itching to stop and walk away. It just began the avalanche of questions which eventually culminated in this post: Do I put people off?

NO!!! My automatic defense took over. I am fine. But evidence suggests otherwise. I was a textbook nerd. But then a couple of years ago, I changed. I began to loosen up. I began to have a sense of humor. I stopped being an asshole. But things never brightened. I was still the oddball. I was still the out-of-place dude. Because you can’t change who you are. You can try, but you can’t. I never feel good in a group. I just don’t belong there. I can manage in a small group of intimate people, but otherwise I just stand in the fringes and smile like a stupid idiot. I am not the guy who enjoys long drawn out trips and adventures. I don’t like driving, and fast cars or bikes. I prefer spending my time reading or writing or thinking or watching TV. I don’t need to have high spots in my life to feel worthwhile. I prefer the serenity of routine, I prefer the enjoyment of a good cup of coffee, the savoury feel of chicken on the tongue, the smell of fresh parchment. I don’t care much about my body. I don’t want six pack abs. I don’t want to go to the gym. I don’t care about how I look (well, I do recommend basic cleanliness, but you get my meaning!!). I don’t care about expensive brands. I am comfortable in a cheap jeans and t-shirt. Maybe because of all that, I don’t fit in. Everyone else like all these. I don’t. I don’t fit a certain mold. And people don’t get that.

In simple wrestling analogy ( another area where I differ, pro-wrestling is my life), I am not you typical prototypical poster boy John Cena. I am more of the anti-hero C M Punk. And by your standards, that isn’t normal. Well, by my standards, all of you are insane as well.

The reason I wrote this is because I want anybody else out there like me to know they are not alone. We are all perfect in our own ways. Don’t EVER let others define your life.

Be who you are and kick ass all the way. It’s as simple as that.

Three Day Three Quote Challenge (Final Part)

Okay then, here I am with the third and final installment of my favourite quotes. I thought and thought about what this should be, but somehow I couldn’t reach a conclusion. I have tons of quotes which I use as inspiration and which I recite on a daily basis but I didn’t know what to put here. But in the end, I decided on a sort of a biblical quote. This quote is something I recite to myself on many occasions, particularly when I am required to perform but the outcome is not in my hands(like interviews and exams). This one line quote simply goes:

Thy will, not mine, be done.

More of a prayer than a quote, but this one really eases my body and mind. By speaking these six words, I am surrendering myself to my creator God. I am doing a trust fall knowing that the Lord will catch me. Besides, I am asking my Lord to decide what is right for me and guide me accordingly. Because I am a child. I do not know what is good for me. But the Lord knows it very well. I am simply asking him to guide me along the path that I need to be on, not the path that I want to be on. And make no mistake, the Lord always answers!!!