Wordless Wednesday #45: Heavenly Bliss


Heavenly Bliss

Trident Hotel in Gurgaon lives up to its name, ‘At Trident You Are Sure.’ It was my first visit to Gurgaon and was greeted by a beautiful hostess, applying a tilak on my forehead at 3 in the morning. I stayed for eight days in 2012 and the staff believes in old age Indian mantra, ‘Athithi Devo Bhava’ (The guest is next to God) goes out of their way to ensure you are comfortable. My stay at Gurgaon is a life-long experience that will always stay with me. This picture was clicked at the exterior of Trident and what I love best is its serene and soothing atmosphere that makes all your tiredness, fatigue disappear.

The prompt is linked to Ruchira’s blog (http://abracabadra.blogspot.com/) for Wordless Wednesday #45

Charmer at my window sill

Her claws scratch my window sill!

I move on the other side of the bed, furiously kicking my legs.

Obstinate woman, she will not take no for an answer.

What does she want now?

I hear her mumbling something and chirping happily.

I yell!

No!!! I dare you try your charm on me, singing and trolling happily,

I am not letting you in.

She is conjuring tricks up her sleeve to flirt with me, walking past the door.

When nothing else is working, she is pushing her way through my window.

Shameless creature, robbing my sleep and mental peace.

Finally I relent, gently opening the window, ‘what’, I ask!!!

The grey pigeon bobs her beak, flapping her feathers like ‘Sheela Ki Jawani.’

‘Fine! We are friends now. Will you stop destroying my sleep,’ I folded my palm.

First week: Bachchan’s Yudh sparks intelligence, a riveting tale

First Week Review: Anurag Kashyap’s Yudh

Days of Yore and Yudh’s first outing

The days of yore when watching Hindi serials was a week family gateway and an intelligent affair that many Indians across the globe were proud of. Remember Buniyaad, Banegi Apni Baat, Tara, Dekh Bhai Dekh,Tehkikaat, Just Mohabbat, Shanti-to a certain extent and Hum Paanch on the idiot Box. Against all odds, Tsunami strikes one day when someone called Ekta Kapoor came with a plate full of non-sensical dish, embedded with ingrained patriarchy to steal the joy of intelligent television.

The generation of 80s and 90s must be cursing their luck that the golden days of TV is gone and buried at the sight of crap unfurled on the powerless audience with the typical Saas-Bahu, dragged endlessly to fool the audience. A twinge of hope, may be, with an intelligent soap opera like Yudh, conceptualized by the man who revolutionized sensible cinema, Anurag Kashyap.

Sensibility, Intelligence and Indian Soap Operas?

As Week One of the serial nears completion, my verdict of Yudh is that it is a sensible and coming-of-age soap opera that is set to pave the way for intelligent TV viewership churned out. Sensible, did I say that? With crass, ridiculous and out-of-the world patriarchy and sexism flying like sauce pan in the name of TV serials, the potato couch been getting lazy every single day. For me, Yudh is one TV serial that is innovative to the point where the pragmatic audience will relate to the whole concept and characters. There is a detailed script, brilliant characterization where there is no stone left for over acting or  crying in distress for some reason or another, shedding bucket loads of tears. Thank God, the female characters don’t shout in desperation with, ‘Nahin!!! Nahin!!!!’. I wonder how religious followers of Saas-Bahu can cope or bear such tears rolling like the river of Ganga or Arabian Sea.

Before I digress, let me come to the point. Yudh is played by Amitabh Bachchan (Yuddhistir Sikarwar) a real estate honcho who is married to Gauri, first wife (Sarika) and Nayantara (Ayesha Raza). He is embroiled with his business rivals and is afflicted with  Huntington, a psychological disorder that leaves him few years to live.

Narrative, Characterization and Amitabh Bachchan

The best thing is that  Amitabh Bachchan gives a very restrained performance as Yudh and credit goes to Anurag Kashyap for scripting the character in an efficient manner. Bachchan’s portrayal of Yudh is effortless and a delight to watch which leaves little scope for hero worship since he is weak at times owing to the disease and family issues. The dichotomy of a character is cleverly scripted by Anurag Kashyap, Mrinalini Khanna and Ribhu Dasgupta. Yudh is no saint neither he is the most powerful man who cannot cheat evil, death and circumstances. Yudh is today’s story on what goes in the corporate world-conspiracies, veiled attacks and the power of money. Bachchan gives a new shape and aura to his personality and his costumes, body language gel well with the character.

Mona (Mona Wasu) as Yudh’s PR is effective and quintessential as today’s modern woman who takes no crap and lends credibility to her character. Zakir Hussain (Anand Upadhyay) Yudh’s associate, Aahana Kumra as Taruni (Yudh’s daughter) and KK Menon (Commissioner) complete the innovative project by delivering power packed performances. Sarika as Yudh’s second wife may not have lots of scenes in the first week but acts competently.

The best thing about Yudh is that it’s all about personalities who are not flawless or pure like milk. Conspiracies, extra-marital affairs and yeah, I’ve heard, a lesbian love angle is shaping up which justifies the deftly-woven. There is no justification for perfection in the corporate world and morally upright relationships in this coming-of-age opera. This is the best thing about Yudh. It’s after ages we are dabbling with an intelligent soap opera that may woke up the Indian audience out of its deep slumber.

What disappoints?

What doesn’t work in Yudh’s favor? Despite the criticisms, I didn’t find the first episode slowly and patchy. The slow narration comes in episode three where the pace slows at times. There are quite a few repetitive scenes with Yudh visiting his psychologist every now and then. His his spasm of fits makes it a boring  and irritating affair. Despite the idea of a joker over-powering Yudh is an innovative idea, I find its bobbed act too repetitive and tad boring. Moreover, the Nikhil-Mamta romance should have further explored and carried during the next few episodes to to build the interest, making it more gripping. The murder of Mamta as the unfaithful wife happens abruptly. Wishful thinking? High time to depict a romance relationship with a certain level of intimacy and sensuality. Yeah, Indian TV needs to grow up with aesthetic love making scenes. Yudh fails in this area.

Gripping Narrative, Riveting and Powerful Performances

Despite the minuses, Yudh stands out as a top-notch vision of television with Amitabh Bachchan delivering a seething and power-packed punch. Yudh concept makes the whole difference with its riveting and engrossing, crisp narrative as well as actors doing complete justice to their characters. Amitabh Bachchan changed the way Television was viewed in India with Kaun Banega Crorepati and hope operas like Yudh and Anil Kapoor’s 24 will bring us back to the hay days. Intelligently woven episodes not exceeding a span of 20 to 24 episodes will make it a pleasant affair to watch on TV. Let’s give back the moment of glory to Indian Television.  Or else, it will be a real tragedy.


Remembering our Kargil martyrs on Vijay Diwas

Tears of a helpless and wailing mother losing her son to the war as she cries her heart out.

Battered and bruised,

the wife expresses pride and sadness as her brave husband sacrifice his life in the war,

so that the whole country sleep peacefully at night.

The soldier, limping his way, as he braves the storm and climb the uphill task to put the flag of his country on top.

The Indian tri-color fluttering high in the sky as the nation bow to it.


Suffering gun shots piercing the heart, the mighty soldier sacrifices his soul for the nation.

Lest we forget!

The indomitable spirit of our war soldiers, braving excruciating heat and surviving on morsels, drop of water, to fight for their land.

A nation that sleep well at night, knowing their guardian angels is standing like a rock at the border to protect their lives.

Our martyr,

how often we think of them and their sacrifice for the nation?

We remember them once in a year!

Yet, their valiance and patriotism are sung by their country folks.

Our forgotten heroes!

How we make their spouses and children from pillar from post to claim their rights!

Lest we forget!

Taking a bullet  and fighting for the country like roaring tigers.

A moment of pride for the nation as their bodies lay cold in the war zone and their sacrifice remain etched in our memories.

Our Kargil heroes!

Yes, we remember their sacrifice for the nation.

Today is Vijay Diwas and we celebrate our Indian soldiers.

Jai Hind.

This poem is a small tribute to our martyr, our soldiers who sacrificed their lives in the Kargil War. Today, July 26 salutes our Kargil war heroes on 15th Vijay Diwas (Victory Day)



Wordless Wednesday #44

Wordless Wednesday #44


This picture was taken at the college hang out, Savera, opposite Fergusson College, in Pune which was my favorite where we made memories with friends, spending the whole day sharing tea. Unfortunately, the place has closed down where memories were buried. Though, I am not in India, I still feel sad that the place, my favorite, is no longer up.


This picture was taken on Jan 1, 2012 during my first visit to Goa at Palolem Beach. It gotta be one of my favorite place in Goa and the place is so peacefully serene.


It’s the canteen of the best college in Pune, Fergusson College, my Alma Mater. I hardly been to canteen during my three years and two or thrice I must have popped in. But, they serve awesome tea.

Linking to Ruchira’s blog on (http://abracabadra.blogspot.com/2014/07/wordless-wednesday-44.html)

Guest post: CHALICE by Tarusha Mittal

Tarusha who blogs at http://tarusham.blogspot.in/ is back with another thought-provoking post,’Chalice’ after the brilliant , ‘Sexism’ published here on Friday. You can check it out on this link, http://vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com/2014/07/18/guest-post-sexism-by-tarusha-mittal/

For a detailed profile on Tarusha, do check out on the above link given. Let’s hop straight to Tarusha’s post and I am sure you will engage as she decode the double standards prevalent in our society.



She sat down with her broken pieces and cried.

She realised that it was all over long before it has actually started.

When you play and confer with the devil for so long,it is not long before it comes knocking at your door.


The murder was an accident that brought her immense pleasure and glee.

It was a simple pitch and toss, deemed an accident.

She was free from the clasps of the man who ravaged her every other day.

It is easy to pass it off as an accident when one is adjudged as a drunkard.

Ah, alcohol, as the beaded drops condensed on the shoot-less champagne glass, she seemed in a zone.

She woke up in a daze and got up and started rummaging through her drawers- Need to find a duvet.

Life was easy here. Incarcerated with her consent, she was doing well.

It was disturbing at times but she was finally at peace and safe.

The enactment of that night brought her a sheer rush of adrenaline.

Guilt, drained her at times when she remembered his tender moments but they were always followed by beatings and cuts; She enjoyed the intimacy and this brought out the demon forth from him, for he thought her promiscuous for she enjoyed.

She wanted to be free. She was not free. Finally she was, free in her incarceration, she was free to pursue her love for self.

The night as it happened, was simple. It was the simplest tale in the world.

He came through, she laced his wine with Nitro and Viagra-he was aware of the former.

They made love that night, slowly, languidly-she made no sound, moved not a muscle-lest he starts beating her.

In pain, she tensed up as he increased his bunny hop.

He crumbled right on top of her as he clutched his chest. Right on cue, she screamed.

Cried and called the Emergency number.

Then she started the act-she thrust herself onto him and thrust until content-the noise would at first be thought of the grieving wife and not necrophilia.

The paramedics found no trace of that glass for it had been replaced by a glass that the dear hubby had used at dinner.

She was questioned and let off.

Within a week, the jig was up for Nitro was found in his cadaver.

She confessed, before the glass shards were found in the trash, because she was unable to live without his love.


She was at peace here. But he was not here.

She felt pain in her veins as she injected herself with a drug cocktail. A prickling feeling raced through her body.

Then the excruciating pain started, she screamed but stopped and had a seizure.

She was found in a pool of her vomit after having drowned in it.

Revenge, revenge, thou art a lesson-Like the poisoned chalice, revenge had come back to haunt her.

Teaser Tuesdays: Turned On by Lucy Dent

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!


Over to me! After ages, I am back to the weekly bookish memes. I am reading, ‘Turned On’ by Lucy Dent (The author prefer to keeps it anonymous. It is a tale of  a married woman, harmless flirtation with online sex and virtual affairs which nearly destroyed her life. Lucy lays bare the loneliness and sexual discord that took hold within her marriage. A gripping narration coupled with searing honesty telling about the inevitable pain and destruction. The writer has a strong command with narrative and language that makes it a compelling read that hooks the reader not just to the subject but the quality inherent in telling a good story.

My Teasers/ Turned On by Lucy Dent

A picture couldn’t hurt, and wouldn’t put the veil of anonymity away too much- page 140

Pretty soon we fell into some uncomplicated, unimaginative but effective, phone sex.-page 201



Human agony, bloodshed and cost of lives

This poem is weaved to disturb you as we stand mute spectators, watching the genocide and atrocity committed against the Palestinians and people of Gaza. This humble post is dedicated to the loss of innocent lives, men and women in Gaza, in the name of politics. I am deeply grieved at the demoniac act committed against humans, including, small children, babies and pregnant women whose lives are torn by ruthless rulers. Let’s join hands and pray for humanity-cum-innocent people.


Cries of desolation as humanity bears the atrocity of an evil world;

O’ evil man! You have no shame of your heinous and sadistic act?

Have you got no heart?

Blood shed,  scattering of corpses, shrieks of babies and killing of lives in the embryo;

Innocent men and women  bearing the brunt of ruthless war mongers and politicians;

A horrible sight for us to witness as an entire populace is massacred in the name of dirty politics;

O! ruler! How can you sleep so peacefully when you carry the burden of innocent lives and children witnessing the gun shots of parents?

The tragedy of small innocent children not playing with toys but seeing bloods scattered all over and weapons destroying civilization;

O! Big powers why are you so silent?

Feeling guilt pangs for destroying the world or being plain hypocrites so that you can rule a divided world!

A world that sees no difference between blood and colored water, where babies are mercilessly abandoned to death in their cradle in a world ruled by demons;

O! monsters in the garb of humans, stop this madness for you shall meet the same fate, your day of judgement is not far way.

Gruesome images playing live in world where bombs are exploding at the whims and fancies of one vile and mad man.

Is the price of human life so cheap?

Bleeding, shivering and hordes of human masses torn apart as they stand helpless and gaping for breath;

The death of civilization that will take ages to restore and wounds that will perhaps never heal;

Bodies, limbs and arms shred apart as souls are suffering excruciating pain;

A human agony at the sight of war-machines and sick drones striking;

One doesn’t need to belong to a particular religion to condemn the human onslaught,

only the heartless can sit unmoved by the tears and cries shed.

O’ World! What have you become?

Biggest power in the world! Are you still hunting terrorists?


Deeply aggrieved at the lost and heartless souls.

Spread love, not war and hatred


Final and last chapter (8): Love, Break up and Coffee

Hi folks,

My apologies! I know you’ve waited long enough for last and final chapter of the mini rom-com novella, ‘Love, Coffee and Dating.’ and must be fuming. I am aware that after reading the first seven chapters and taking long to write the last one can kill the interest cum losing the grip as well as freshness in your mind. I am really sorry since I’ve been stuck with the Ultimate Blog Challenge July 2014 where I am blogging for 31 days and I took the new job. It can be taxing, trust me. Here, coming with the conclusion for the novella and hope you’ll like it. As usual, looking for honest and critical feedback.


Love, Break Up and Coffee

Chapter 8:

Band, Bajaa and Bandook (Marriage at Gun point)

I have one week to win over Anumrita’s heart and steal her right under the nose of Mr Money Bags. I stopped attending film shoots and staying in the apartment, listening to mushy romantic songs, turning into modern day Devdas, gulping bottles of Whisky. My life is in a mess and growing a beard, unkempt hair making me look horrible. In my desperation, I visited prostitutes and I was almost roughed up black-and-blue by the pimps and one of the prostitutes called me, ‘Napunsak’ (Impotent). One women wearing big pouts and huge bindi, called me , ‘Bharwe.’ I didn’t visit the brother to have sex but to narrate my sob story about love, break-up and Anumrita ditching me for a filthy rich asshole.

It’s the eve of Anumrita wedding to Mr Big Shot aka Money Bag. I make several frantic calls to Anumrita throughout the day and I am feeling terrible and boiling with anger since Madam is either not replying to my calls or messages and cutting  me off. How ruthless! Finally, she responds to the 106 calls, 86 messages past midnight. “Listen, my sangeet is going on and managed to sneak in to call you back, by standing on the balcony. Are you aware that I am getting married tomorrow?,” She shouted.

I was almost on the verge of tears and ask, “Why do you need to get married to this asshole kinda Mr Money Bags.”

“Sam!! Shut up, yaar. Please understand that I am tying the knot, yaar. Go and get a life for fuck sake. Please don’t do anything stupid and I am sure you’ll get someone better. I don’t deserve you.

How I hate it! When girls turn into characters baked by Ekta Kapoor…I don’t deserve you..you’ll find someone better. How I wish Tania was with me but she told me, she is on a mission to save my love and I gotta thank her with a smooch. My head is exploding with alcohol gulped inside and feel I am in a tailspin.

“Anumrita, I l-o-v-e y-o-u, one last time, let’s meet, please, please?”, I plead before breaking down.

“Are you drunk, Sam?” She ask. “Ok! Fine! One last time,” She said, showing sign of irritation.


Anumrita retreated to her room and walk past the horde of loud guests dancing, singing and indulging in free flow of alcohol. She needs a rest and slouches on the sofa and after a while, overheard a loud noise which seems like an explosion and passionate arguments, her Mom and Dad shouting at the groom’s father. She jump out of the bed in her red saree and jewellery when Tania’s pal Karan, stood in front of her, forcefully pressed a white handkerchief on her mouth. She felt dizzy and passed out.

I was waiting outside Anumrita house, waiting for Tania, who run out of the house, brandishing a revolver at my temple. “What the fuck?”, I am horrified. She pushes me inside the Black SUV and ordered the driver to speed up. I ask, “Are you mad?” She gives me a scary look, “Listen hero, keep your fucking mouth shut and one word, I’ll blow your head. Shocked? The thing is that I was playing a game. I hate this bitch Anumrita and I am in love with you. We are going to get married. You get that! Karan has killed Anumrita and she will never come between us.” I am shaking with fear and mutter, “She was your best friend.” Tania expresses an evil grin, “She is a bitch and took you away from me.

The car whooshes its way in the outskirt of Mumbai and after braving the mad traffic for an hour, made way in front of a deserted Bungalow, cut off from city life. I mean, even if they plan to kill, no one will hear my cry and will be dumped somewhere near the lake. Karan, dressed in Black suit, opens the car’ door and pushes me inside the house. Both ordered, “Now, go inside the room.” I got the shock of my life when I saw Anumrita, half-conscious and I reaches for her hand as she tries to stand on her feet. She slowly opens her eyes, “Are you part of the conspiracy? I am confusion and ask, “Conspiracy. What conspiracy? Tania forcefully abducted me at gun point, telling she wants to marry me and Karan killed you. Both of us were bemused, before realizing that Tania and Karan abducted both of us.

We walk past the door to see Karan and Tania smiling. I meekly ask, “You abducted Anumrita from her marriage to bring her here?” Tania smiles, “Abe! Hero! She is my best friend and you think I am stupid to let her marry Mr money bag when she is in love with you. Don’t be confused. Karan is my boy friend and we worked on a plan to unite both of you.”

Tania winks at Anumrita, the abducted bride who is still recovering from the shock, who in turn directs her gaze at me, “Now, you tell me, why should I marry you?”

I bend on my knees and hold her hand in mine, couldn’t stop looking at the beautiful bride, adorned by gold and red saree. “Anumrita,” I say, closing my eyes. “Since I discovered life, it was you and only you in my life. You are my oxygen that let me breath free and we are like Whisky and Soda. You are my liquor and I am your Soda. I cannot live without you and stop fiddling with my heart that you took long time back. You’ve taken my soul away and how can the body stay apart? I love you, Anumrita and say yes…please yaar, jaldi kar, my knee is hurting.”

Anumrita looks at Tania and ask, “Should I say yes? I love you, too.” We hug each other and Tania comes close to insist for a smooch. We, me and Karan, couldn’t believe our eyes when we saw Anumrita and Tania, smooching passionately. The boy friends separated the girls with their might by shouting, , “Hell! Are you girls planning to become lesbians or what?”

Anumrita coolly says, ‘That’s Sam promise to Tania and, unfortunately, my man is taken and so I am doing the obvious. Tania shouted, “Where is the (officiating priest) Pandit?” Anumrita and I look around when both of us are taken to a decorated room and made to sit in the Mandap where a tiny fellow, the Pandit, performs the marriage rites as we exchange vows and putting garlands into each other’s  neck.

Tania and Karan hugs us and offered a surprise gift, two air tickets to Miami with free hotel stay for a month. Tania said, “You gotta take the flight in four hours and so get ready, we are going to the airport.

As Karan was driving us to Mumbai airport, Anumrita asks Tania, “What about Mr Money Bags and my parents.” Tania smiles, “Don’t worry, Baba. I broke your marriage and now I am sure your parents would not want to see the face of your best friend ever again. We’ve set Mr Money Bags, making him drink  full bottle of Johnny Walker whisky and when Karan escorted him on the bed, I forcefully jump on him, removed my bra, to give the impression we were banging. My boy friend raised a ruckus and your Mom and Dad entered the room to see us in the condition you must be guessing. Poor Mr Money Bags protested vehemently that he is being trapped but your parents only saw the truth concocted by Karan and me. Babe! Just enjoy your honeymoon.”

Anumrita and I hug Tania, calling her, ‘bitch.’ The bitch is proud, “That I am.” Both Tania and Karan waves good bye to us as we walk past the departure zone.  The plane slowly zooms its way at the airport and whooshes in the deep blue sky. We kissed like a happily married couple coz we know that we shall come back after two years to take blessing from our parents, letting their anger to subside.

With Love



WoW! The mind reader

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time:

What if you are blessed with a power to read others’ minds? Whose mind will you read and why? What will you hear it say?


How I wish I could land up with the super power of reading minds? Hell! I’m not into Black Magic or joining the brigade of self-claimed Gurus fleecing the Aam Aadmi and Khaas Aurat money, pretending to read minds of lovers, predicting India’s win in cricket or whether the next Amitabh Bachchan movie will be a smash hit at the Box office or whether their foes are plotting conspiracies to bring down their empire.

It’s my sixth sense in the imaginative, they tell me. False pretense? I ain’t no Harry Potter or Super man but belongs to the plain breed of Mango People.  Oh! My super mind and lemme pretend of having the sixth sense to know about things that goes around. I shall read the minds of politicians and war mongers and craft a strategy to play with their minds to give a taste of their own medicine. I shall give them false leads, throwing pot of gold at them as they will be tempted by the greed to have more. It’s a trap you see as they will be drawn to Maya Jaal that will lead them to the desert, never to come back to trouble people and make life hell. I shall punish those who wage wars, killing innocent children, babies, men and women. The rapists and perpetrators of crime against women shall find their minds caught in a maelstrom, making them lose their inner peace and losing peace, dying every second, asking for liberation yet shall never attain it in their life.

The manipulators and conspirators, wait I am coming to get you full swing. I shall stand on your way when you play mind games and indulge in office politics. You shall never get an easy way the moment I read your mind and prevent havoc wrecked on the world and shall stand on your way, destroying each and every plan of yours. I will make you bite the dust and eat your own words. I will concoct a magic potion a la Harry Potter, making you spell your vile plans to the world. It will be called the day of judgement when you will stand helpless as the world will witness your true colors.

O’ my lover where are you! The sweet girl I’ve been pursuing relentlessly and who makes me go weak on my knees every time she pops up in front of me. I shall never worry of winning your heart coz your mind will tell me if you are interested , thus, saving me the effort  of running after you. I will not be the victim of the mad pursuit and spend my time, worrying when is the proper time to ask you out for a coffee and movie date. O’ Girl! You are mine, will be my mantra.

I shall be the most powerful man on earth, spreading my magic all over the place. Ahem! Ahem! I will read the mind of Blog Adda and will not wait till Tuesday to know if I bagged my 12th consecutive WoW. I will be an instant winner after I hit the push button:)

With Love