Tag Archives: Hindu

Retribution – A Short Story

murder mystery

 

By Ganesh Subramanian

It was a bright morning in New York. Ritesh woke up to the sound of chirping birds beside his window. He rubbed his eyes for his vision to clear. He looked at the Christiano Ronaldo poster that adorned one of the walls of the living room. The poster showed Ronaldo ready to take a free kick. Ritesh was reminded of the premier league match that he planned to watch that night that featured Christiano Ronaldo. Almost as if stirred by memory, his eyes moved to the calendar which was hanging from one of the walls. The date 11th of December was circled in bright red colour. Ritesh smiled at the irony that the date was circled in red and not in any other colour. Today was the 11th of December. The circled date reminded him of the most important task that he wanted to accomplish that day, an accomplishment that would banish the demons of humiliation, embarrassment and pain, an accomplishment that would exorcise the ghosts of the past once and forever. This was something important that he has to finish at any cost. The premier league match can wait.

After a quick shower, he reached his office. After checking his mails and mailing his daily updates to his boss, Ritesh was waiting for a call which he was expecting that day of all days.  The next minute, his mobile screen flashed the name of Vimmy Veronika. Ritesh answered the call.

“Happy Birthday, my cutie teddy”, said the female voice at the other end.

“Thanks. Surprising to see that you have come to office on time”, mocked Ritesh.

“Only for you, dear”, answered Veronika. “Ok Listen. Come over for dinner tonight at my place”, said Veronika.

This was what Ritesh wanted to hear. But still he played with Veronika. “I have lots of work. Need to prepare that presentation for the board meeting this Friday”, said Ritesh.

“Oh, Come on. If you spend a couple of hours over dinner at my place, your board won’t sack you”, Veronika said.

“Alright. I will be there at 9.” replied Ritesh.

“Now that’s my boy. See ya” said Veronika.

Ritesh winded up the day’s work by 8 pm and when his SUV landed in Veronika’s Eastbrook apartments, it was 8.45 pm.

Ritesh and Veronika were from India, but now working in the US. Veronika was born to a Hindu father and a Christian mother, hence the name has a combination of Hindu and Christian names (Vimmy, short for Vimala, a Hindu name and Veronika for her Christian roots). Having got to know each other through a common friend, Ritesh and Veronika loved each other as if there is no tomorrow. Veronika told Ritesh that she will make her dad announce him as her life partner during her birthday party. Ritesh bought an apartment with his year-long savings to present it to Veronika. On the birthday party, Vimmy’s dad announced her engagement to Deepak John, an Indo-American businessman. Ritesh was heartbroken. The worst part was Veronika seemed to be happy with her dad’s decision. She told Ritesh that Deepak was well-settled and she could not disappoint her father. This sudden change in Veronika baffled him. Through some of his sources, Ritesh came to know that Deepak and Veronika had been pals in college and they had a very intense relationship and before they knew it, Veronika was pregnant. So this marriage is a quick heal solution before things could go out of hand. Ritesh’s blood boiled on hearing this. “How could she do this to me?”, he wondered. Although they both had kept in touch occasionally through the phone after this incident, things were never the same again between them.

Veronika welcomed Ritesh. After a sumptuous dinner, they settled on the couch and were having a few drinks. Veronika got up to bring another bottle. Ritesh got up and followed her. When Veronika pulled out the bottle from the fridge and turned back, Ritesh was standing close to her. He flashed a romantic smile. He moved close to her and put an arm on her waist. He brought his face close to hers. Past memories came flooding back to Veronika. She couldn’t resist. Anticipating a kiss from Ritesh, she closed her eyes. This was the opportune moment he was waiting for. He brought out a kitchen knife, its steel finish glistening in the dimly lit CFL lamp. In a swift motion, he plunged the knife into Veronika’s midsection. Veronika froze in horror and pain. The bottle dropped from her hands. Before she could scream, Ritesh’s left hand closed her mouth. He pulled out the knife and drove it harder into her abdomen again. Ritesh came close and whispered into Veronika’s ear – “You shouldn’t have done this to me, you lecherous bitch!”. Saying so, he pushed Veronika. She dropped dead on the floor.

One more task to be accomplished. Ritesh started his SUV and headed towards Maxington Lane. He reached Silver Oak apartments in Maxington lane and headed to Door # 145 in the 3rd floor. Jeevitha, a Tamilian from the southern part of TamilNadu, the occupant of #145, opened the door.

“Yes. How may I help you?” said Jeevitha.

“I am Ritesh. I am the brother of Mukesh, your reportee. I want to talk to you” replied Ritesh.

“Come in.” said Jeevitha.

“I know why you are here. To say that your brother is innocent. But the records seem to tell a different story. The 10 lakhs that disappeared was his responsibility. There were no expenses of that magnitude that day. Only way the money could have disappeared is when Mukesh himself had taken it. Better he admit his crime, so that atleast his punishment would come down” replied Jeevitha.

“Mukesh is not like that. He is innocent. He is being fabricated in this case for some moron’s crime. Do not go by what you hear. Listen to your heart. Save him from this mess”, pleaded Ritesh.

“I am sorry. I can’t do anything. Your brother has to face the consequences”, Jeevitha said firmly.

“Will you help him or not?”, Ritesh said in a menacing tone.

“No. If you don’t leave now, I’ll call the cops”. Saying so, Jeevitha moved towards the telephone.

Ritesh was fast. He pulled Jeevitha back and twisted her right arm behind her back.

” I am asking you one last time. Your statement against my brother tomorrow will finish his career. After that, Mukesh will not be alive. Think again.” said Ritesh.

Jeevitha didn’t listen to him. She extricated herself from Ritesh’s grasp and ran to the window to shout and alert the apartment’s security. Ritesh was equally quick. In one motion, he twisted Jeevitha’s left arm behind her back and put his right arm around her neck. Then he brought out the kitchen knife and slit her throat in a smooth motion. Jeevitha’s crumpled form fell to the floor.

Satisfied with his accomplishments, Ritesh left house no. 145 with the occupant lying in a pool of blood.

 

 

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To My Brother…With Love

By Rimpi Goyal

rakhi

Today is Rakshabhandhan and it is really a wonderful feeling all around. The chaste bond of love between a brother and a sister is one of the deepest and noblest of human emotions. But suddenly I found whom I should tie my Rakhi though he is no more in this world. This gives me courage to share my feelings for him through this blog.

It happened in Chandigarh on Diwali 2011. Everybody was happy because we were planning to celebrate Diwali at our new house. My brother and I spoke on the phone. He was convincing me to come to Chandigarh and celebrate Diwali with all of them but I could not because of official commitments.

And then something happened.

My father called me and asked me to reach home immediately. I knew something was wrong. Yes, I lost him and my father his son. My beloved brother had died in a road accident and my father had just received a call from police. We stood in disbelief, pain and anguish. Both of us lost everything.

To be strong…..

When my brother was alive, I used to hang around with him a lot. We thought we were so cool! A bossy sister that I was, he never asked anything for himself…he was the one jo hameasha daant khata tha just to see a smile on my face.

A feeling that I cannot explain today had surpassed me then. Feeling of loneliness, feeling the irreparable loss of only brother, feeling of utter pain.

I remember someone saying at the funeral “You must be strong for your parents” Yes, I must be, but I’m not feeling strong for myself.

I felt sorry for my dad. People kept telling him to be a man and be strong for his wife and daughter.

Pain in their eyes

I was angry with God. I just couldn’t understand why something so terrible had to happen to us.

The most difficult part was not being able to talk to my parents. There was so much pain in their eyes. If they would bring up his topic, I would cringe because even though I wanted to keep his memory alive, I wanted my connection to be private. As I got older, I began talking about my brother to my parents more often.

The whole experience changed my life. I know I’m a completely different person than I would otherwise have been. When people ask how many siblings do I have, I always say, “One.” After all, at what point in a relationship or friendship do you bring it up? Anybody who is close to me knows. It’s a big part of who I am, and people have been so good about it.

I wrote this for my brother…He will be missed every day. Love you little bro….

You’re still here in my heart and mind,
still making me laugh ‘cause your stories live on.
I hold you in my thoughts and I can feel you.
I feel you and this gives me strength and courage.
The tears I have cried for you could flood the earth
and I know you have wiped each one away.
For you Brother, I promise you this,
I will go on with my life and make you proud. I will always hold you in my heart.
I promise you I will be missing you everyday till the end of time,
but this is not my end and I can’t hold my head underwater….I need to breathe.

I need to love and miss you…I might cry or smile,
but at the end of the day I am one day closer to you…

Love you a Lot..!!!! Happy Rakshabhandhan…

You Can’t Exist. It Offends ‘Us’

By Ankit Chandra

khajuraho

In the news today, among other more immediately critical things, is this news about a paintings exhibition in Bangalore (http://www.ndtv.com/article/cities/in-bangalore-moral-policing-means-three-paintings-face-the-wall-326900?pfrom=home-otherstories).

What’s the big deal about a paintings exhibition? Isn’t it just about some people only putting their expressions on to some canvas? who has time for that right? To be quite honest, I think it would be a big deal when a painting exhibition was actually not a big deal. Sadly, we are not there yet.

So what happened was that in this paintings exhibition, there were some paintings showing a few Hindu Goddesses in the nude. A local BJP ‘leader’ walks in and sees these paintings and flips out. He ensures that those paintings be put inside out, so that no one can see them. He said “I have reported to chief coordinator of Chitrakala Parishat saying you people should not show like this, Hindu gods and all. We have our own belief, we have our own culture…”

When I read this, I had a mixture of feelings inside me. Besides the obvious questions like ‘who the hell is he to be the representative of Hinduism’ (I am sure Lord Ram didn’t send him an appointment letter, because I think God likes me more than this BJP leader), I was more anxious because I see a special type of slow rape and murder happening here. That of freedom. Not only of speech, but to exist freely. Given that this rape of freedom a slow process, I am sure the government wouldn’t care to fix this, as this doesn’t affect the elections in 2014, or the local Karanataka elections, whenever they are held.

This is an urgent problem. Not only in Karnataka, but in Tamil Nadu with Viswaroopam, or with the late M.F. Hussain, or with the painters in Ahmedabad whose exhibition was vandalized, or with Deepa Mehta for making Water. The list goes on. And this list scratches our faces with its iron finger nails telling us that you must live in servitude of those who can walk over you whenever they feel like.

Anyway, back to the news. The father of the painter issued a statement: “There is absolutely nothing objectionable in his paintings. If that is so, then all temples should be destroyed.” After reading this statement, I had another mixture of feelings ride inside me. One of which was that of desperation. You see, in the older times people seemed to have more freedom of expression. They ‘could’ sculpt Hindu Goddesses in the nude. And those sculptures were integrated into temples. In 2013, we have regressed to a time even before them. Maybe stone ages where the whims of a petty local politician were taken to be a decree more critical than the dreams of Rabindranath Tagore.

Of course we could not have one more than one Nobel in literature. For that, we’d need to coexist in this century first…

mf_hussain1_20081208-11

Garhwal Diaries 7 – Offering Prayers at Kedarnath

After offering my prayers i took a round of the temple complex. Here are a few snap shots:

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Indian Mystic Sadhu

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A temple behind a temple

IMG_0275Carvings within the temple complex

IMG_0279For Whom the Bells Toll

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Temple pichhwada!

Twitterati And The Madras HC Sentence On Pre-Marital Sex And Marriage

marriage

Madras High Court still trends on Twitter after their sentence yesterday was misread by a section who jump the gun without trying to lift it. Here are some epic ones

Anand (@_Anand_i): Employee: Sir, shadi k liye chhutti chahiye. Boss: Arey, chutti ki kya zaroorat h.Lunch hour mein niptaa lo na.

Kanika Upadhya (‏@NikkiUpadhyay): So how many of you have woken up married this morning? :p

Alabhya Narang ‏(@alabhya_mufc): “marriages are made in heaven” acc to the new law marriages are made in bed

Ramesh Srivats ‏(@rameshsrivats): Karunanidhi: Hahaha. I’ve been married three times. Sunny Leone: Hehe. Poda, amateur.

Shiv Aroor ‏(@ShivAroor)“I’m breaking up with you. All you are interested in is marriage.”
shammy baweja ‏(@shammybaweja)So, is there no such thing as being single anymore
Sorabh Pant ‏(@hankypanty): Next time you touch yourself – you aren’t masturbating, you’re throwing away a million rishtas.
milind soman ‏(@milindrunning): Thank God my wives now have other husbands
Pratik Trivedi ‏(@ptrivedi2186): How many of you got married last night?
And finally
Screw Driver ‏(@iamritjangid): U don’t need a mangalsutra, u just need a room.

Garhwal Diaries 2 – Enroute Devaprayag

After Haridwar, Sampurna Majumder continues her photographic journey to Devaprayag.

IMG_0219The road while leaving Haridwar

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Verdant greens

IMG_0225A random click

IMG_0224Technology finds its way amidst nature!

IMG_0228The confluence of Rivers Bhagirathi and Alkananda

Garhwal Diaries I – Haridwar Hopping

Sampurna Majumder writes a photographic blog of her trip to the Garhwals.

Since I love the mountains, I frequently wander around mountainous regions. Sometime back I embarked on a trip to the mighty Garhwals. An indigenous mountainous region in the northern part of India, the Garhwal is home to some of the majestic mountain peaks and tussled trekking routes. A great place to wander around for someone who is an avid trekker and a passionate photographer.

Haridwar was our first stop. One of the seven holiest places for Hindus, Haridwar presents a kaleidoscope of Indian culture.

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Blurred lights and waters captured in my cam.

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Abstracts from Haridwar

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Market place

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How about some bargain!

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Dawn at Haridwar ghats!