To whomsoever it may concern...

The rain splattered like bullets from the sky, bleeding you dry and cold. The chill in the air seeped into your bone so deep that you cannot differentiate between cold and warmth. The puddles on the road distorted with every step I took, only to become that mass of water staring at you. Time froze in the vacuum devoid of any hope. The fate was resounding with the sound of every step I took; with every breath that forced its way out of my lungs to again lose itself in pure oblivion. Still my heart chose to ignore what brain had already accepted as the truth. Still I chased her...

She was running frantically; her bare feet bleeding and her eyes a pool of tears, rain and shattered hope. She did not care if her heart, body and soul were fading away. The pulled her cape closer to her and ran. She ran as if her life was running away from her. It was as if she thought that she would never be happy if the figure in front of her disappeared behind the sheath of rain. Every vein of her was a river of pain. A river that had now become an enormous wave in which she thrashed around wildly, still trying to swim. She fought against the darkness that threatened to destroy her very self. She fought against the fate, the voice of reason that told her to look back once, to see that she was not running towards the feeling of being happy, but away from all the happiness she could get in the world...

My eyes burned with the sheer effort of not letting my tears dilute my hope. I ran behind her, knowing that no matter how fast I run, it was like wild puppy trying to catch his own tail, unaware that he will not be able to. Ever. I ran, hoping against hope that she will turn, she will look back, she will notice me sometime. I hoped she’ll read my eyes, for I could not have said it. I did not have enough words, enough emotions to tell her that what I felt was not love. It couldn’t be. She felt like a part of me. You do not say that you love your eyes. Or your heart. They are just meant to be with you. Inside you. Inseparable. Still I ran because I had a heart that was yet alive and still had eyes that could see her running away from me...

Suddenly her strength gave away. Her shoulders buckled under the weight she had carried for seeming eternity. Her knees could not hold her anymore. She closed her eyes...accepting fate, accepting the fact that she will never be happy, that she never wanted to be happy anymore. She surrendered.

But before she could fall into the murky puddle, a hand caught her. The hand was shaking, but it held her strongly. The hand did not put her to road comfortably. It stood her right up. It said that it was not the time to fall. It was the redemption. She looked into the face. The face was smeared with mud and long held tears finally finding an escape route. The stranger pulled her close to him. The rain was still cold, but her body felt warmth of a thousand suns pouring from the stranger’s body. She looked into the face again. This time it seemed familiar. She knew this face! It was the same face which quietly handed her a tissue when she cried, only to leave and cry himself. The same face that was around when things were cold, like today. The same face she saw around corners while running towards the figure now swallowed by darkness and rain. The face she never looked at properly. She knew this face. It was always hers. It always belonged to her. The face hugged her tightly, promising to never let her go and give her all the happiness she deserved. The face still had tears. She kissed away each tear and hugged the face back. She surrendered again. Twice in the same night. This time to light. To hope. To eternal perfect happiness. They melted into each other. They became one.

And never has sun shone brighter and warmer on a cold winter day as it did the next day...

 

MY PROMISE IN INK.

My eyes might be yellow but my blood is still red. My body is tired and weak, my knees tremble, i bleed dry but my spirit will not break, my will be my strength. When my body begins to break, my mind will find the strength to carry on. I have trained myself to ignore pain, ignore odds, ignore the critics, see beyond obstacles. Block distractions, block every voice that tells me that i WILL fail; that I SHOULD fail. Darkness will not deter me, light will not entice me. I do not feel pain. I do not have fear. I am not you. I cannot be you. I am invincible. I am Vibhor...

CONFESSION BY STUPID STUPID MR.888244422442888

You know some things are just not meant to happen. I mean no matter how much you wish a Rajnikant movie will never flop and Rajnikant himself will never age. It is time to accept this. This thing is never meant to be. How many times do you have to crash and burn before you realise that that is all that is ever going to happen to you.

I do not believe in God. And even if there is some god somewhere, he’s not perfect and certainly not fair. Like Tyler Durden puts it, “if we’re God’s unwanted children, so be it.”

I hate going through this again. And this is so much worse than ever. I cannot tell anyone, I cannot do anything. I watch FRIENDS, I don’t laugh; I watch a Rajnikant movie and I still can’t laugh; I hear a song but I can’t sing; I can’t seem to find energy to smile. And still I have to show the world that I am happy. That these things don’t affect me at all. I do not feel love; I do not feel pain. But that is not what is me. I never can’t feel love. I only get pain. Again and again. Its like destiny is written on the wall and still I chose to ignore it. Every time I think this time is different. Maybe this time...but it never comes. Why do we get feelings if they can only be used to feel pain? Why can’t we just not feel anything at all? I look into the mirror, and the face in the mirror drops a tear. What is this happening? Why does this hurt so much? It was not supposed to be this way. May be its just that I am too needy of love. I am weak. And this is pathetic. Have no clue when this ends. For now I just want to laugh again... 

THE CROSSROADS

Left top corner should do it … yes … that would be it …

That deafening cry of “Aryan, Aryan” around this Old Trafford stadium was already getting on my nerves. How is one supposed to concentrate in this din… but perhaps that’s what makes you a Manchester United star striker. I could already feel the pressure of that devil on left hand side of my chest and number 10 on my back… can I do it?

Bringing myself to the match with Herculean effort, I focused on the ball. I can definitely do it, I just have to bend it around the wall of defenders and that will ensure another goal from super striker. With utmost concentration on the ball, I moved forward to take the kick. Just before I made my contact, I glanced at the goal. Just behind the keeper, could make out a face… face of a girl… it looks rather familiar… oh shit! It’s her! It’s…

“tere bin main yun kaise jiya…”
This device called cell phone certainly has an annoying habit of shattering the silence of your sleep just when you want to sleep a bit longer.
Rubbing sleep out of my eyes, I tried to make out the callers name. It was a local number.
“Hullo.” I said in my sleep deprived voice.
“Hi Aryan!”
That cool female voice sounded pretty familiar.
“It’s me, Disha.”
Of course… who else could it be calling this early in the morning… but wait a sec, wasn’t she supposed to be in Delhi?
“Hey Dish, how come you are calling from a local number? Aren’t you in Delhi?”
“I’m in Pune, dumbo. I came the previous night. Thought I would wait till morning to hit you with good news of this magnitude.
Such a naïve heart! She’ll never stop surprising me.
“Yeah, I needed it. But still, calling at the crack of dawn…”
“Crack of dawn? Hello, Mr. Aryan Malhotra, its one in afternoon.”
Oh shit! Again overslept… man, I’m really getting into this habit.
“Hmmm… so how come you are in Pune… I mean any particular reason?”
“Couldn’t stay away from you, sweetheart. Stupid, I told you na, I may come to visit my cousin here. I guess you forgot again…”
Hey, not fair. How am I supposed to remember such insignificant details with all the things going topsy-turvy in my life?
“Sorry Dish. So you want to meet or something?”
“Of course, why else would I call?”
“Oye, stop being rude. Have some mercy on this poor innocent child.”
It’s hard to sound indifferent when other person is talking to you in such sunlit, happy sounding voice.
“Accha baba, okay. Listen. I, my cousin and few of her friends have got passes for Lush.”

I could just make out that faint whisper of a potential catastrophe that follows such innocent sounding announcements.
“I was wondering if you and your friends could come. It’s supposed to be a rocking disc, I suppose.”
Fuck, that was it, exactly what I feared.
“Hmmm… I’d be really busy this evening. Got my soccer practice.”
“Oye, stop making excuses. Be a sport, Aryan. Come na…”
The last two words were laced with that ultimate flattering girl voice that was supposed to render the prey (that’s me!) helpless and force it into meek surrender.
“Okay, I’ll come.”
“Perfect! Then meet us outside Lush sharp at ten.”
“Done.”
“Then I’ll see you at ten. Bubye Aryan.”
And she signed off on a perfectly happy note. Happy on her side, that is. The idea of spending a night amidst eardrum shattering music, drunken rich kids and smooching couples left me with a deep seated feeling of gloom.
On a brighter side this piece of news will at least please my dearest friends.

As if in answer to my thoughts, my bedroom door was blasted away by a signature entry by Rehaan. Earlier in my life (i.e. my Symbi life), I used to jump a foot every time this happened. But as I learned, Rehaan stringently adhered to the principle “Don’t enter, make an entry”. You get used to such idiosyncrasies.
“Wassup dude? Finally got off your nap”
“Yeah.” I replied, finally removing my covers and putting an end to the most peaceful part of my day. Once Rehaan has decided to give you company, you’d better abandon your all other plans.
“Dish just called up. She’s here. She and some of her friends want to go to some Lush party tonight and apparently, are in search of appropriate company.” I informed him, empting my almirah I search of beacon of a happy morning, a toothbrush.
“No need to worry, poor Aryan. Rehaan is here to rescue those damsels in distress.”
“Fuck you Rehaan.” Sometimes you really need to bring him down.
“Chill dude…how many chicks are there?”
“Dunno.”
“Aha! So Mr. Aryan Malhotra has again, in a display of his signature characteristic foolishness has forgotten to take the most intricate of all details.”
“Fuck you Rehaan.” I said again.
“I think there’ll be around five of them.” I added.
“Including our bhabhi?” Rehaan asked with a completely innocent face, but barely able to stifle a chuckle.
“I’ve told you hundred times, SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND. She’s just a friend.”
“Okay, okay. She’s not your girlfriend, you are her boyfriend.” Rehaan replied, trying to act smart ass.
I threw the toothpaste tube at him. Though he moved in time to avoid the perfect blow, but still got hit on his chest.
“Easy man, I was jus to keep that kidding. And try to control that anger of yours. It’s getting really out of control lately.” Rehaan said, visibly irritated.
“Sorry mate. Didn’t mean it.”
“I’ll forgive you, as long as you can hook me up with one of the chick of yours friend’s friend!”
Now you see what I mean when I say Rehaan is unpredictable!

Within an hour rest of my flat mates were home. Rehaan wasted no time in informing them about evening plans. As expected, they took the news with visible enthusiasm, all immediately lost in thought of their prospective evening dates.

As they say, men will be men!



It’s a common notion that the fairer sex of the society is the one bestowed with persistent quality of being able to stand in front of a mirror for hours at a stretch, preening and cajoling themselves into looking better. But one evening (that evening to be precise!) somewhat diluted this perception. In fact, those two hours that we spent jostling, pushing and running around in utter mismanaged mess (an indicatory sign of management students) ,just to earn our fair bit of share in front of the two mirrors that we had at our place were enough to change anyone’s perception. At the end of the hour, our flat closely resembled a place which has recently witnessed atrocities of a hurricane. Heaps of tried and rejected shirts, those crinkled jeans and undistinguishable mass of washed and unwashed clothes just about summed up our management skills.

However, despite of everything, we reached Lush at ten past ten. And needless to say, the girls were still nowhere in sight.

“One thing is for sure. Disha certainly has a bloody sense of time.” said smoldering Harry.
But just then…

“Aryan, ARYAN.”
That was Disha. Screaming my name from halfway across the road. That too when you are about to enter a disc. Now you get it when I say she is a bit weird, I mean weirder than rest of the girls.
“She is hot, yaar.” Rehaan said and got his foot stamped in return.
Disha and her friends were now walking towards us, with Disha and her gleaming smile in lead. Disinterested as I was, I couldn’t help noticing that all girls were extremely…uhh...pretty (believe me, I say this only in search of a better word!) and were perfectly dressed for a night in a night club. Disha was already attracting a lot of glances from the Lush crowd.

While I was still absorbed in taking in these new details, Disha had reached me. Then surprisingly, gave me a bear hug. Why surprising? Read on (wink!).

“Long time, no see Aryan! C’mon Aryan, why such a long face. And what happened of your tournament? I met Avinash before coming to Pune. He asked me to tell you to call him. And you told me something about you getting injured. What happened, you fine na...” Disha rattled on.

“Can we go inside, Dish. I can see we are boring others.” I said, much to the relief of Harry, who looked visibly exasperated with this banter.

Disha introduced her friends to me and my friends but my friends needed no initiative, they introduced themselves.

After all the formalities which included checking of our passes and getting stamped, we finally entered the disc. The outside section was open section. It had some table and chairs for people seeking respite from the ear throbbing music playing inside. Chicken and other stuff was also being cooked in this section. But this hardly appealed to any of my friends or their dates. Perhaps few hours on dance floor may compel them to come here. To me personally, this was perhaps the best section of the disc.

We all splintered as soon as we entered the disc. Everyone had some thing to his or her fancy. Rehaan headed straight to the bar, leaving Dia (that’s Disha’s sister) standing all alone undecidedly in middle of dance floor, though not for long. Soon she was spinning away with another guy in black!
I looked around for Harry and was surprised to find him sitting on one of the many couches which were placed against one of the walls. Something about the way he was lost in conversation with Angelina (Dia’s friend) struck me as odd. But was it possible….let’s see……
“You want to sit there?” Disha asked, while taking my arm and steering me towards the couches.
“Sure.” As if I had a choice!

We went to the corner most couch and sat. I really felt out of place there. The place where we sat was completely surrounded by couples completely busy with each other. This place was not exactly an ideal place to catch up with a friend. But there we were, me sitting awkwardly, feeling the pulsating environment, and Disha sitting with ultimate comfort, feeling completely like a part of the place. I tell you, this girl was filled to the brim with confidence.

But there was something else too. All these snuggling couples brought something to my mind….something from not-so-long past……

“What has got into you, Aryan? You look like you are attending a funeral.” Disha certainly looked concerned. Infact, a bit too concerned. But that was expected, wasn’t it?
“Yeah, I’m alright. So what has been going around lately?” I said, making a feeble attempt at making a conversation.
“Nothing much. Well, actually nothing at all. Life has become quite boring. You tell me, what’s up on your end? Aryan, are you even listening to me? ”
I was busy looking at a couple on my right. I wished the girl would at least get down from guy’s lap. This place was really making me sick.
“Uhh….yeah. Nothing much on my side too. Dish, can I get you any thing?”
“Can we just talk please?”
“Yeah…anything you say…” I said, on being confronted directly. Well, that was a feeble attempt after all.
“How is Ishanya then?”
“Can we talk about something else?” I said.
“Why? What is wrong with this topic?” Disha countered, oblivious to my discomfort. As if all these kissing couples enveloping us weren’t enough, I was forced to talk about something that was the last thing I wished to talk about.

“I just don’t want to go through that shit again. You know I hate her. Why are you making me do this?” I replied flatly, throwing all caution to wind.
“Oh really?” Disha said with a raised eyebrow. That was the sign that now we’ll definitely be talking about her. “And stop lying. Anyone can tell by your eyes that you still love her, don’t you?” It was not a question, it was a statement.
“Whatever. I just don’t want to think about her. We are not talking about her, all right?”
I know I was being rude but that was me.
“You know something Aryan…you were never so bitter…you’ve changed…changed a lot.” She said and stomped off to God knows where. And all I could do was raise my hands in now what I’ve done? expression.

Meanwhile, Harry was too busy to bother about anything else. I did a double check to make sure it was Harry. He seemed to have eyes only for Angelina. Angelina was talking animatedly to Harry and he was just looking (read gaping) at her, their untouched glasses completely forgotten at the table. Hmm…this was definitely interesting… I made a mental note to ask Harry about it later.

I started looking for Rehaan. As expected, I found him seated in a stool the bar. I went to him.

“Heya Aryan!” he shouted halfway across the dance floor. “Where’s Disha? And why are you looking so cross? Again fought with her, didn’t you? Man, you’re really an ass.”
A few ears did managed to hear Rehaan over that deafening brash they called music. That was enough to earn me a few raised eyebrows and a few mocking smiles. It was just half an hour in the disc and he was already drunk! We’d be lucky now to leave the disc before Rehaan has picked a fight with someone. But as it turned out, it was someone else who decide to show his masculinity.
“Control yourself, okay? Don’t act like you have just got out of a rehab.” Did I just crack a joke? That was rare! Rare in past few months.
“I’m totally in control. Don’t worry about me dude. There are plenty of chicks drooling over you. Look at that one in red…” he shouted and pointed at a babe in red on the dance floor. I noticed a Arnold kind of guy (who looked very much like her boyfriend, judging by the distance, or lack of distance, they had in between) giving me looks which suggested he’d love nothing more than using me as his punching bag for his next boxing practice. “…man, she’s giving you such lecherous looks! Go get her tiger!” there I was, talking about getting away without a fight. Now I would be lucky to escape with all my bones intact.
But just then I noticed my savior, Harry standing at bar with two glasses in his hand.
“Harry,” I called out to him. “Can you look after Rehaan for a minute? Apparently, he’s got himself drunk.”
“I was taking this to Angel…” Angel? What the hell was wrong with Harry? “…she’s waiting for me there.” He said, a little irritated at suddenly being thrust such an interesting job, that too considering his previous engagements.
“I’ll do that.” I said taking glasses from him, not giving him a chance to retaliate.
“Make sure it’s only a minute.” He said, with understandable dejection.
“Aye Aye captain!” second joke in a single evening? I’d better keep a check on myself.

Balancing both glass, I crossed that sea (did I say sea? I meant ocean!) of human masses kicking and thrashing their body parts on dance floor. What did these people had in lives that made them so happy?

Anyways, I managed to reached Angelina’s (read Angel’s) table with glasses as they had been on the bar table.
“Where’s Harry?”
Period. What else did I expected?
“He’s with Rehaan. Rehaan had some business with Harry.” I know I lied, but how do you explain to a girl that I had engaged her date in some other job that involved taking care of a drunken friend.
“So how’s your evening going? Enjoying the company?” I said, testing the waters.
“Very.” She replied enthusiastically. “Harry is such a darling! I have never met a more patient listener, really!”
Patient listener? That wasn’t one of the virtues Harry was known for.
“Yeah, right. He’s a nice guy. So you are a localite or what?”
“No. actually I study in Wadia. I’m in second year, BBA. I’m from Mumbai originally.”
“Where do you stay in Pune then?” I enquired.
“I stay in a flat in Kalyani, you know, near K.P.?” she said.
“Ultra cool! That’s really a happening place. Lucky you.”
She gave me one of those fleeting mischievous smiles.
“Ya, lucky me!”
“So you have any boyfriend?” I gingerly asked.
But I never got to hear her answer. Just at that moment I heard breaking of glass accompanied by loud brawling noises. Many heads now had their complete attention towards dance floor, the venue of this entire ruckus. Following the suit, I followed their gaze to the dance floor and what I saw there was enough to make me stand up. As I half ran towards dance floor, I heard distinct crashes of glass hitting the floor; Angelina had too stood up. Sight that greeted me at the dance floor was a bit unfamiliar.
Rehaan was on dance floor, holding a guy in half nelson. Phew! Here we go again… I immediately scanned the vicinity for Harry. Damn you, Harry! What were you there for?
But Harry himself was on dance floor, attempting to take on two big mean looking guys together, with one of them looking like he had walked straight out of one of those body builder posters Rehaan had on his room’s wall! Harry never had much affinity for fights. What was he doing there?
I was expected to separate them and restore truce. But the frustration and bitterness that had been brewing inside me for past some time had been bottled too long. This time it all came uncorked. I threw my self on the Hercules-frame guy, thrashing my fists and legs, just wishing to punch light out of him, not caring how much I got hurt in return. I could see people looking at the spectacle, Disha screaming her head off and Angelina and Dia just standing there, shocked and unsure what to do. The whole bar seemed to come to a standstill.
But my energetic manifestation of rage was put to unexpected stop when a pair of strong and burly hands pulled me apart. I still kept up my attempts to break free, hitting every part of my captivator I could reach. But one punch from my captivator (he was a bouncer of the club) in my stomach brought me to my knees, too winded to stand. Out of my screwed eyes I saw Rehaan being held firmly by another bouncer. Harry was still putting up good fight though. Suddenly, he broke free of from bouncer’s grip and launched himself again on his fight mate. But soon enough, he was being dragged out of the disc by two bouncers. The girls went after him. I brought up the rear, supporting Rehaan, who was too weak to walk by himself. When I reached them, Angelina was beside herself with anger.
“What the hell do you think of yourself? Fighting in public like that. This is one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Never, never in my whole life…”
Harry was reflecting her rage.
“…that ******* (he said something that made Dia say “Harry!”), that fucking vulgar creep was passing comments on you! I’ve been watching him since we entered, he had been following you! That piece of ….”
“But does that gives you license to hit him. You fell to his standards, Harry! You could have hurt yourself, idiot!” Angelina rambled on.
I could tell from his face that he was really pissed off now. Angelina’s words had only made him angrier, if that was possible. It had been a while since I had seen him this angry. But I kept my mouth shut. His anger was better out than in. Plus I had hardly had any right to point out to him that Angelina was right, after what I had done myself.
“How does that matter to you?” he was now channeling his anger towards Angelina. “Why do you give a shit about me getting hurt?”
“Because I ….” that was it! This was the moment. It was one of those moments when the time stands still, when the overwhelming weight of some mysterious expectation hangs heavy in air, when the force of silence is too deafening to hear.
Everyone was just looking from Harry to Angelina, their breaths lost somewhere on the way in the wind pipe.
“…care about you!” Angelina finished lamely.
Damn it! After all that tension in air, so palatable that you could almost taste it, what we get to hear is that I care about you shit.
But what we felt was nothing compared to what Harry looking. Weird as it was, he looked completely crestfallen. Slowly, as if the weight of his expectations was too heavy for him to carry, he turned and began walking towards the parking.
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, STUPID!”
Harry spun so fast on the spot that I heard his neck crick. On our end, Angelina was smiling broadly, her sparkling white teeth gleaming in street lamp’s light.
Harry stood transfixed at the spot. He looked as if he was stunned. And I could hardly blame him. Even I could feel the electricity in the air. A strange feeling of joy echoed from every corner of that empty street. Harry slowly walked towards Angelina, his eyes fixed on her, walking as if he was in trance. He reached her and stood in front of her.
Then, in a sound barely more than a whisper he said, “I love you too, Angel!”
I was immediately transported to the past, my past, to be specific. Those four magical words, I love you too. It had been ages since I had heard them! So pure, so lively, so enervating!
“Hello, where are you, Aryan?”
I was brought back to present. Dia was waving her hand in front of me.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” I replied, but my eyes again betrayed my statement. I could tell that from the look Disha was giving me now.
“Where are Harry and Angelina?” I asked, avoiding her gaze.
“They’ve gone to parking. Harry will be dropping off Angelina.” Dia replied.
Out of corner of my eyes, I saw Disha rolling her eyes.

Rehaan, who had been standing unnoticed till now, supported by a street lamp, suddenly slipped to ground.
“I’d better take him to home.” I said, hurrying over to him.
“Dia, can you please take him to home? I need to talk to Aryan.” Disha suddenly said.
Dia was caught off guard.
“Me? But where will I stay? I’m really sleepy Disha.” She blabbered.
“You can sleep in Aryan’s room. He’ll drop you when he comes back. Is that fine with you?” Disha was trying to hint something with her eyes, but Dia was certainly not getting it.
“We can talk later Disha. It’d be better if I take him to home. Dia needn’t be troubled.” I tried to come to the defense of Dia.
“No. It’s all right Aryan. I can take care of him. Just don’t make it too late.” Dia said, finally getting her sisters hint.
She took Rehaan’s hand from me and put it around her shoulder. But just before we got out of her earshot, she muttered, “Looks like we’ll have more than one couple of love birds tonight.” Was she referring to the couple getting in the auto or the couple standing in the empty street?

“Let’s take a walk.” Disha said.
I automatically turned back to the street we were standing in.
“Can we walk on the road?” she asked.
“Sure.” I said.
We started walking on the road facing Lush. I could tell from the look on Disha’s face that she was thinking where to start this conversation.
“Just blurt it out Dish. What’s on your mind? Anything particular you wanted to talk about?” I said; finally weary of all this silent walking.
“Actually I wanted to talk about Ishanya…” Disha started tentatively.
Here we go again! Looks like I’m going to spend this night talking about Ishanya.
“I’ve told you a hundred times before and I’m telling you again. I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT ISHANYA. You get it?” I said, putting some decibels into my anger.
“What is wrong with you? A lot has changed since this summer. I still remember what you said when I proposed you this summer…” ah! That was my ailing nerve! “…you said that you were deeply and madly in love with Ishanya. You said you couldn’t even think of anyone else. And now you talk this bullshit about hating her. You can’t even imagine the hell I’m living in. it hurts me like anything to see you fading away like this. Take a look at yourself. You look like a walking corpse.” She was looking alarmingly close to tears. But that fast building rage was blurring my vision… “Could you please share it with me? I want to help you. But you’ve isolated yourself from everyone. You look so lonely, all alone. You keep ignoring me, even when you know how much I love you. You don’t know how much it hurts me…”

But I had reached my saturation point. I couldn’t take it any longer. I stopped in my tracks and in a faint deathly whisper I said, “I know Disha.”
That seemed to shut her up. She just kept staring at me with those puppy eyes. Perhaps she was expecting more from me.
“I know how it feels to live in shadows of ignorance and watching the person you crave for living his life oblivious to your existence. You really want to know why I’m so bitter?”
Disha just nodded. We were standing below a street lamp, beside a bench. Disha took my hand and made me sit on bench. My throat was choked.
“I just hope I can last this.” I said.
Disha just smiled and gave my hand a small squeeze.
And then I started.
There we were, two people basking in the misty light from the lamp, cool night breeze tingling with that expectation of the unexpected and a story of a lifetime.

I used to rule the world

Seas would rise when I gave the word

Now in the morning I sleep alone

Sweep the streets I used to own

Just because I'm losing

 Doesn't mean I'm lost

 Doesn't mean I've stopped

 Doesn't mean I'm a cross

 Just because I'm hurting

 Doesn't mean I'm hurt

 Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserved.
No better and no worse.

GOD VS. SUPERHERO

What exactly would you prefer to believe – the Omni-potent, Omni-present God or super cool superhuman Superhero? This seemingly simple answer is not exactly that simple.

By definition, god is someone or some force which designed this whole master piece called universe and also can change the same. But then again, definition of god, especially in India, is highly subjective. However, they all boil down to the same thing –the all mighty.

To define a Superhero is however a much more complicated task. Ideally, a Superhero should be an aspirational human being. Some one that an average person wants to be. Some one with power extraordinaire to that of a guy throwing newspaper every morning in front of your house or gives you that Zinger at KFC. Some one who instils hope. A protector, a saviour. And here is where the catch lies!

Popular opinion might suggest that belief in God is something that has been taught to them even before they understood the difference between a tricycle and bicycle. On the other hand, Superhero is something that we learnt on our own. Some farfetched part of our fantasy. No one ever taught us to believe in it. It was thought about as one of those stupid fantasies that we as children indulged in. Somehow for grown-ups, God was more believable than Superheroes. One of the major reasons that was the perception was that whenever you think of Superhero you think of a Superman, a Batman even a Naagraj. But that somehow defeats all our efforts put into defining the Superhero.

A Superhero just needs to have extraordinary powers. That definition validates people like Einstein, Franklin and Napoleon as superheroes. They all had powers uncommon to masses and they almost certainly changed history. Closer home, our very own Mahatma Gandhi, Aryabhatta, Bhagat Singh etc etc are perfect examples of Superheroes. And these people were certainly flesh and bone, unlikely God which still has at least an iota of doubt about its existence. An argument which points in the direction that we have always had Superheroes walking amongst us.

Enough about the comparable powers. Even the fallacies point to the fact that we already have seen a lot of superheroes. God is supposed to be perfect. The One who has planned everything and cannot go wrong. But pick up any of your Superheroes. Take for example your neighbour friendly Superman. Though the guy has amazing powers, still falls for Lois Lane. Has a weakness in Kryptonite. Somehow that makes him seem more human and hence, more believable.

All these arguments certainly point to the observation that we might not have been as credible as we would like to believe while pronouncing the God as the sole power keeping the mechanism of universe alive. After considering these arguments and keeping in mind the all the impossible (used only for qualitative effect, no pun intended!) powers of God, can it be just possible that we might actually owe everything, or at least some part of it, to the unsung heroes –the Superheroes!