Wednesday, June 22, 2011


The food-court at the mall was abuzz with people. Vikram stood quietly, waiting for his turn when a hand squeezed his shoulder hard. He winced and turned to see a woman, her face white as a ghost.

"Sorry, sorry.." the woman muttered and pulled back her hand.

He shrugged - "It's ok"

She looked tense.

He turned back again. "are you ok, ma'am?" Maybe she wasn't keeping too well. But she didn't reply. Instead, she kept looking at the entrance, as if expecting (or not) to see some one. He looked that way as well. Nothing unusual, just a bunch of shoppers loitering around, people getting in and out of the food court. He looked at her once again and turned back - the queue was moving. He bought his supper and headed to the seating area. A while later, he saw the worried woman grab a seat on the far side. She continued looking toward the entrance. He looked that way again. Nobody suspicious. He shrugged and went back to eating.


It was almost 10 pm when he walked to the parking lot. He got into his car. Checking the rear view mirror, he adjusted his seat and turned the key in the ignition lock.

Just then he felt the cold muzzle of a gun on his temple, the click of the safety lock being opened.

"Be still. And no tricks." The 'tense' woman at the food court.

He put up his hands silently.

A second person opened the back door and got in. He heard another click.

"Keep the hands on the wheel, mister. And just drive." A man, this time. The woman opened the door on her side and slid in.

"Hey, easy guys," Vikram said with just a hint of nervousness, and eased the car back.

"Don't try to do anything stupid at the toll," They reminded him.

"Ok, ok..please keep the guns away."


The car hurtled down the lonely state highway.

About fifty miles down, the car pulled off the road. Save for the crickets, the air was calm and dark. There wasn't any traffic. A moment later, a loud snap of bone and a cry of pain came from inside the car, followed by two quick shots.

Vikram stepped out from the driver's seat and yanked the rear door open. He pulled out the two life-less forms one after the other and dumped them by the side. Then he took a moment to answer nature's call, and got back into the car.

"Amateurs," he chuckled, bringing the car back to life. He swerved it quickly, doing a U turn, back to the city.

Damn, he was late. Oh well, his contract just got a couple more hours of life, thanks to these morons.


Monday, June 20, 2011

55 word challenge (pilot)

"Aankhen chaar"

Their eyes met at the traffic signal. He smiled.

He was still smiling as his car moved. She smiled back.

The oncoming Volvo bulldozed his car, climbed it… and toppled, landing right on top of hers. Both were still smiling when cops pulled their mangled bodies out. Cops were baffled – “they were happy to die?”


Tuesday, June 14, 2011

"Line" maaro

In the movies...

Back then
Maine injection de diya hai, baaki oopar waale ki marzi (I mean, I pray that the syringe was sterilized properly)

I'm sorry, hum use nahin bacha paaye (someone's gotta die in the movie, you know)

‘Tumne mujhe maara?’ (Lagtha hai phir se maarna padega)

"Slap" (The girl slaps back, that is)

Kutthe kamine (how insulting to the dog)

Abe saale *beep, beep* (don't even think about it)

Purane khandahar ke peeche, paise leke aa jaana (Err, woh toota phoota sulabh shauchalay chalega? Humare shahar mein khandahar nahin hai.)

Poora paisa is bank account pe transfer kar dena (Villain thanks the Internet secretly)

Is bandook ke saare goli (the whole of '20' bullets in a revolver) tere andar daag doonga

Bang! (That's it? He's dead?)

Aise mat karo, tujhe meri kasam (what? Awww no, u uttered THE kasam word? Now I’m chained)

Go to hell (Heroine sighs secretly "good riddance")

Main aapko kaise yakeen dilaoon ki main hi aapka beta hoon? (birth certificate, remember?)

Huh! Who cares.. (yeah seriously..who does)

Ek gaana sunao beti (Lata mangeshkar ke aawaaz mein)

Kitna kamaate ho, beta?

Ab bahut der ho chuki hai...main..main..main maa banne waali hoon (What?? You took 3 months to realize that? Whatever happened to..err..u know..that..?)

Relax. There's T-pill 72.

Main tumhe hospital le jaaoonga tumhe kuch nahin hoga (With 4 bullets in him, if he’s still talking, use sachmuch kuch nahi hoga, the bullets are fake don’t worry!)

Aise scenes hi rare hain yaar!

Monday, June 06, 2011

The past...blasted..

Friday, March 24, 2006

Making history...

It was a typical museum with dark, long corridors and huge halls with high ceilings. This one almost resembled the insides of a cathedral. Rohit and Seema gazed around in awe. One of the most beautiful museums they'd seen. And to think they'd get to visit one on an unlikely trek such as this. They'd been planning on the trek for quite some time now, and this museum literally waylaid them, as if it wanted them to walk in and take in the rare artefacts, before they proceeded in the hot sun. Seema smiled and clutched Rohit's palm. She was like Alice in wonderland. Rohit smiled back and sighed. This was a great place, no doubts.

The trek organizer had left them a few kilometers back at the foot of the Jogi mountain, with detailed instructions about first aid, food and other helpful tips in case they got lost. This was their first trek before they tied the knot a month hence. They just wanted to have a blast and do what they both loved doing - exploring nature.

"Funny, I thought the building looked much smaller from the outside" Rohit commented, gently running his fingers on a tiger, so realistic, he felt it would roar and bite his finger any time.

It never struck them as odd, the appearance of a museum such as this, in the middle of virtually nowhere. Even the organizer hadn't mentioned this in the route. But it didn't matter. Rohit had checked. From the window of the museum, they could see the nearby town. Well, a lot of folks preferred to drive up to a place like this; it was good tourism. Even if Rohit had any doubts it had slowly perished, after having walked around for a while now.

"This way please," The curator who'd welcomed them in flashed a typical curator smile that said, see it but don't touch it. He'd called himself Guru.

Seema rolled her eyes and exchanged a brief knowing glance with Rohit. The curator watched the lovers from the corner of his eye and smiled to himself before leading them to the room at the far end of the museum.

"And this.." He said opening a door that led to some kind of a basement, "is something you would'nt have seen anywhere in the world."

Rohit raised his eyebrows. There was a rare confidence in Guru's voice. They simply smiled and followed him downstairs.


"See? I told you." Guru looked around proudly, as if he'd built this place with his own hands.
Rohit had never seen anything like this before. Statuettes, caskets, jewelry, pottery, and more...indeed he'd never seen anything like this before.

"Original. From the 10th and 12th centuries. All these belonged to the Rastrakutas."

"Rastrakutas?" Seema had read a bit of history, and knew that the valiant dynasty had indeed existed in India between 752-985 and that their contribution in the field of art and architecture was unmatched. But to openly claim that all of this belonged to them was being a little too confident.

But before she could continue to quiz him about the Rastrakutas, Guru led them to an adjoining room with massive blinds and the walls adorned huge life-size paintings of various temple and historic monuments. They would've missed it had they not stopped by to see the paintings closely. And funnily, this part of the museum was lit poorly. And the air suddenly felt as heavy as lead. Seema's throat felt dry.

"Hey, isn't that..?" Rohit stopped. Guru turned. Seema grasped Rohit's shoulder, her eyes round with bewilderment.

"That's as you can see.." Guru stepped closer.

"The Taj Mahal" Seema completed the sentence.

"Yes. Quite right, ma'am."

"Why's it in shambles? Who could've painted it this way?" She wondered aloud.

"Ah, that's the specialty of these paintings ma'am. All these paintings represent buildings that are going to perish in the near future."

"But how gross. How can somebody think about our national wonder in this way?"

"That's how it is, ma'am."

Rohit and Seema turned to Guru, who had an almost diabolic smile now, instead of his warm, friendly countenance.

They looked at the Eiffel Tower, Mount Rushmore, the Qutub-Minar, Vidhana Soudha...all in pieces. And then they came to the last painting.

"Isn't this...?"

"Yes. It is."

It was the museum they were in.

"Wh..when is this going to happen?"

"Anytime now," Guru said, as the floor beneath them began to rumble and they started shaking violently.


Thursday, June 02, 2011

The past...tied up this time

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Stop thief...

He heard footsteps in the hallway and froze. The street light threw a patch of white on the wall opposite the hallway. He waited. He then saw the silhouette move quickly across in the light, to the living room which was dark. He looked around for something to hold. A weapon. Quick. Anything, blunt, long, thick. He quickly unplugged the fancy table-lamp beside the door, and pulled it, clutching it hard.

He hoped the loud click wasn't loud enough to be heard. He moved to the door and stood right beside it, waiting. He didn't want any surprises. He waited a good one minute. No sound. No footsteps. What was this guy upto? He crawled through the hallway to the dark living room. There was a loud crack. Funny, the room was dark, but how did that bright star appear on the ceiling? He slumped to the floor, his head resonating with a deep hum.


"Hello police station?"

A response crackled from the other end, asking him what it was.

"I want to report a burglary in my house."

Another query crackled inside the mouth-piece.

"What? No, I'm not held hostage. I knocked him out, and tied him. Yes, yes..please send someone over quick. Thank you."