About Us Redefining Open Source
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TGTR is a youth magazine aimed at providing good solid content written primarily by students and young professionals on a diverse and relevant range of topics, and presented in a simple and humorous manner. Unlike other magazines, LTGTR provides a refreshing blend of high quality literature and socially relevant articles which are blatantly honest. The content is neither journalistic nor bookish; rather you shall find it invigorating and stimulating in an otherwise monotonous world. We don’t just present facts; we provide opinions and let you choose the ones you like. LTGTR is “not” a college magazine. It transcends the boundaries of any college and delves into the psyche of Indian youth. It is an endeavor to provide a common ground for people to express their ideas and opinions. It is an opportunity for common people, like me and you, to find like minded individuals. It is an attempt to bring back a culture of reading and writing and prove to you that these things are for the masses and not just for the elite. In a trigger-happy world, in an age where the media is known to sensationalize everything, in a culture where “making money” is the only motivation, LTGTR is an attempt to bring back real journalism and writing. It draws on the ideas of the French revolution “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite” and combines it with inspiration from young revolutionaries who used writing as a way to mobilize the masses. In a world where broken hearts, unfulfilled expectations and death form a major chunk of our thoughts, LTGTR is at attempt to break away and find meaning in life. So I can go ahead and without any regrets state, LTGTR IS A NOT JUST A MAGAZINE, IT IS A MOVEMENT OF THE PEOPLE. IT IS A REVOLUTION, OF SORTS, AIMED AT BRINGING OUT THE REBELS IN US, GETTING THEM TO ASK THE RIGHT QUESTIONS AND FINDING THE ANSWERS. Finally it is meant to keep you happy and entertain you. It is meant to keep the good times rolling.
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EDITORIAL
The Editorial- Anonymous
I
cannot begin writing about love. A week I’ve spent in trying to figure out what aspect of love deserves such mention that the editorial talk about it. To even attempt to write about all of it would be foolish to say the least. Greater writers than me have not accomplished it and lesser mortals would embarrass my brash attempt. And so, I sit here, writing about love with no idea what the next few hundred words will say.
itself. It’s everything that you can experience. It’s a faith beyond God and religion itself. You may not agree with some, or any, of what I have written. I will not refute your claim. Nor be foolish enough to say, “You’ve never been in love, you will not understand”. Love can be best described as “To each one, their own”. It’s so personal a feeling that no one explanation could possibly relate to everyone. Yet in its own universality love is more fundamental to understanding human A question needs to behavior, in general, be answered, “Have than any rule of science you ever been in love?” has or ever will be. For the feeling is not something that words can describe to you. It is so vast an emotion What about the regular clichés that we only that it completely overwhelms you. It is the fall in love once, that we know true love when greatest high, the most powerful narcotic. we see it, etc. Like I said, I cannot possibly It’s agony, it’s silly, it’s stupid, it’s irrational come up with an answer which will be true for yet it is like a pillar of stability. It’s passion, everyone, or even the majority. These things obsession, it’s learning to let go. It’s maturity, come true for some people and not for others. it’s order and turmoil, it’s a contradiction in Some people love forever and some for just
“That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.” - Emily Dickinson
hours. Yet, underlying all these varying and contradictory facts, is one truth that altruistic love does exist and lasts forever. For those, who like me, prefer simpler explanations it means selfless love. A form of love where you put the person you love above yourself and that becomes the guiding principle of your life even if it means sacrificing your love itself. It need not be reciprocated but it will last in you. I cannot console you if you’ve ever had to sacrifice your love for love’s happiness but take solace in the fact that he/she is in a better place and that’s all that really matters. Trust me, for I may not have lived long enough, but I’ve loved long enough.
EDITORIAL
“Love looks n ot with the ey es, but with t And therefore he mind; is winged Cu pid painted b lind.” - William Sha kespeare
the “chup chup ke milna”, staring into the eyes, the accidental brushing of hands, finally coming out in the open etc. All the turmoil of emotions that reign chaos and drive your actions can be broken down to simple acts of caring for someone and wanting to be with them. For all its complexity, love is the most simple, primeval even, of all emotions. And now one final aspect I must touch before I go in search for a healing touch for my sorrowful state. A lover’s lament! Often people do not realize how important their love is to them until it is too late. Many of you who’ve never experienced the sorrow of parting will never understand the emptiness inside. As St. Augustine said, it is much easier to have not been loved than to know love and lose it. The memories, both the good and the bad, are not enough to fill the void.
All this serious and morbid stuff might put off all those people who have never experienced any of it, irrespective of whether they have ever been in love or not. I apologize; broken hearts are like broken vessels often pouring This editorial shall remain anonymous, for it themselves out on paper at the slightest touch is not written by one person. It is written by of love. Yet love is beautiful too. It is an energy all those who’ve felt some or all of what been that resonates with nature itself and connects written here. you to life the way “God” meant it to be. And it’s not always so complicated nor does it Cheers. require humongous deeds of sacrifice. Indeed the things I enjoyed about being in love were the little ones, the hesitant conversations,
For the ones we loved and always will in some measure, if you’re reading this, to have known your love was to have known the world’s greatest feeling. I hope you find the same.
Contents Opinions/ramble/jobless Beauty - anonymous Jeet Lo Cup! - suryatej Borra Moral Policing - Vakul Mohanty Natural Blues - Pradeep Damodara
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FEATURE What’s Your Love Like? - Pradeep Damodara Lovely Lies - Rachina Ahuja Devdas - Sayonee Ghosh Roy Hello Stranger - Vidya Ramamoorthy Slender Thread - roopak Khandekar Oye! listen...Don’t cough when you kiss me - anuj Suri
10 14 16 22 23 24
People Dilruba Pandey - Sukriti Lanba
12
Best OF Facebook
31
Fiction Insanity - Vakul Mohanty Volta - Nishant Boorla Head Over Heels - 400 Word Specialist
20 26 27
No Easy Way Out - Vijay Narayan
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DISCLAIMER: ALL OPINIONS EXPRESSED IN THIS MAGAZINE ARE OF THE RESPECTIVE AUTHORS. LTGTR BEARS NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANY HURT SENTIMENTS. THE IMAGES USED ARE PROPERTIES OF THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
JOBLESS
Beauty
us - Anonymo
T
he ugly people of the world have devised so many ways of making themselves feel better that they’ve turned being unattractive into something of a virtue. It’s fashionable to resent, bitch about and generally denigrate beautiful, more attractive people. And no, I’m not talking about Inner Beauty(TM) and all that rubbish. I’m referring to plain old good looks. Most of it is harmless self-consolation, but there are some blatantly annoying lines whose makers I would love to kill slowly and painfully.
“Beauty is only skin deep.”
Yeah, and that isn’t deep enough? What the hell are you going to do with a cute appendix?
“Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.”
Of course it does. If the beholder is beholding a painstakingly air-brushed photo of Megan Fox, that is.
“Beauty without brains is nothing.”
Bullshit. Beauties without brains will survive all right, thank you very much. Compare their numbers to those of well-known brainy non-beauties, you’ll see what I mean.
“Beauty is not in the face, it is a light in the heart.”
Yeah, that’s exactly why the main contributors to the billion-dollar cosmetic industry are the ugliest of people. With beautiful, light-filled hearts, of course. Get over yourselves and work a little toward geting that perfect tan, those perfect lips. Beauty comes cheap these days, and it’s a shame if you still have to resort to childish, resentful tactics just so you can make yourselves feel better.
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OPINIONS
JeetLoCup! - Su
M
ost Indians take immense pride in our cricketing heritage. Now once again the time has come to notch up that pride a little, turn the patriotism on and cheer our team; for the ICC Cricket World Cup 2011 has arrived. Adding to it, we are hosting the event this time along with Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.
ryatej Bo rra
Cricket is more than a game in this country. It is a religion and a state of existence. The expectations from the team are extraordinarily high this time. The prime reason is India’s unbeatable and the invincible record in the cricketing arena over the last 3 years. This makes Team India one of the clear favorites
If we go back in time, India’s association with the Cricket World Cup has always been special. India had a lukewarm or rather a dismal outing in both 1975 and 1979 World Cups when all the Indian cricketing legends like Prasanna, Bedi, Venkatraghavan, Gavaskar sweated for the nation’s cricketing glory. Then came the golden moments in 1983 when we beat defending champions West Indies (they were on a hat-trick) as underdogs and emerged Champions. This Cup produced some great cricketing stars like Kapil Dev, Mohinder Amarnath and Krishnamachari Srikanth. The tournament produced some unforgettable performances from our team. Kapil Dev’s 175 against Zimbabwe was an example of batting brilliance. Complementing it was Mohinder Amaranth’s all round efforts in the semifinals and finals. Then came the magnum opus final where we shocked the cricketing greats. (One should have captured Clive Lloyd’s and Vivian R i c h a r d ’s fa c e s ) .T h e picture of Kapil Dev lifting the Cup in Lords is still fresh in the memories of all who were alive to see it. Then came the 1987 World Cup in which we
hosted the tournament for the first time. This tournament also saw an impeccable performance from India and it seemed unbeatable. But time played its part when we lost to England in the semifinals in a match which is said to be cricket’s greatest upsets. This tournament also saw Australia rise as a cricketing superpower. The 1992 World Cup was not worth remembering. But it gave the country the greatest cricket player the game has ever seen – SACHIN RAMESH TENDULKAR. The 1996 World Cup which followed can be thought of as a replay of 1987. India hosted the tournament. India lost in the semifinals to Sri Lanka in a dramatic fashion as the Eden Garden crowd turned violent. Sachin Tendulkar won the Player of the Tournament Award as he was the highest run getter. The 1999 World Cup was just a decent outing with India losing out in the SUPER 6 ROUND. Then came the 2003 World Cup. The memories of this world cup bring with them a mixture of emotion, pride, happiness, pain etc. The team was at its best and walked its way into the finals. This stint was a perfect example of true leadership in Sourav Ganguly’s captaincy and collective team effort. Amidst high expectations, India lost to Australia in the final and ended as Runner Up. Again the Master B l a ste r was the hero of the story. He
OPINIONS
for the trophy. A host of other factors like home advantage, sub-continental playing conditions and a perfect team balance add to our advantage. Well this entire is one side of the coin; the other side of the coin is Sachin Tendulkar. Talking about Indian Cricket without Sachin Tendulkar is like talking about Ramayana without Rama. Sachin Tendulkar has single handedly inspired the imagination of whole generation of this cricket crazy nation.
But all this is only from a cricket critic’s point of view. From a cricket buff’s point of view, the story is entirely different. When we speak about the World Cup what we speak about is statistics, rules, financial endorsements, players, venues and schedules. But we neglect one very big thing. It is the people’s emotions. Yes there are huge expectations on the team from the nation. It is the same story in every country but in India it is more. Somehow the relationship of the game with our country is a very interesting one. This game was introduced to us by the British and has turned into a national obsession. Somehow India fell in love with this game because we had about the same pace in life as the game had. And the game became our cute family sport and
an inseparable part of Indian lifestyle. The business and betting which happen are just an icing on the cake. If we just take a deeper look at people’s lifestyle, the importance people give to cricket is more than any other thing. People bunk jobs, studies, businesses to watch a cricket match. People pray to God hoping it will improve the team’s performance. We give a great boost to the industries’ income by taking part in contests and post match analysis shows. Other fields and industries also work with this passion of cricket in mind. For example the film industry will not release movies during cricket season or will make a cricket oriented movie. (Ex: Patiala House). Several brands like Pepsi, Idea, Boost, Sahara, Nike and many other companies will release products to promote the game and boost their businesses. Well all the analysis and talk aside, it’s time to have some serious fun. Make the most of the season and shop like mad. Throw all the statistics in the dustbin and enjoy the game like a true cricket buff.
OPINIONS
bagged the Player of the Tournament Award as the highest run getter. The 2007 World Cup was forgettable. The team was knocked out in the preliminary stages, suffering losses at the hands of Sri-Lanka and Bangladesh, teams we had beaten comfortably a few months ago. The tournament’s failure was blamed on then coach Greg Chapell for his unconventional strategies. Since then everyone has been waiting for this World Cup. The expectations have increased because India has won the Inaugural T20 Cup in 2007. Moreover India holds the No1. Spot in the test rankings and has had impressive performances in the ODIs as well. The Master himself has expressed his desire of winning the World Cup during his tenure as a player (It is probably his last World Cup too!). The team has a perfect blend. Starting with the able leadership of the skipper Mahendra Singh Dhoni, it has the glitters of Virendra Sehwag, Yusuf Pathan and the experience of Yuvraj Singh, Gautam Gambhir - the all-round presence of Virat Kohli and Harbhajan Singh. So it is time to say “Come On India Dikha Do. Ye Duniya Ko Dikha Do”
By the way here is a test to confirm whether you are a true cricket buff or not. If you jump from your seat and shout like insane when there is a boundary or a dismissal, you are a true cricket buff (:P) . If you squeeze your popcorn or there is a frown on your face when Sachin is dismissed you are a true cricket buff. But don’t forget to do one thing. Cheer for India in every way possible and wish for your her victory from the bottom of your heart. Just Say JAI HO TEAM INDIA!!
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- Pradeep Damodara
FEATURE
What’s Your love Like? L
ove is universal. It (unfortunately) permeates all, irrespective of age or status. Whatever Shiv Sena, MNS and RSS may say, I bet their members have loved (or atleast had a hard-on for) some chick or the other at some point of time in their sad existence. So don’t bother denying love, just read on and classify which type you come under. Oh and it’s all in good faith.
PUPPY LOVE:
PASSIONATE LOVE:
Ooh! Look at them… they’re cute and cuddly little babies. Perfect together. Acting like sweet, lovestruck two-year olds…so lovable. It’s especially endearing when they’re not together, pining for each other like lost puppies. FOR THOSE OF YOU IN THIS KIND OF LOVE, WHINING IS A DOG THING. NO ONE REALLY WANTS TO KNOW OR CARE IF YOU’RE MISSING YOUR ‘MUNCHKIN’. KEEP IT TO YOURSELF!
Oh yeah, baby. Now we’re talking. Or maybe we’re not, depending on what “we” are doing… somehow looking into eyes just doesn’t cut it for these love-birds. Touchy-feely is the order of the day, or whatever time it is for that matter. A WORD TO THE WISE, KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF, AND THIS WASN’T WHAT THEY HAD IN MIND WHEN THEY SAID “LIP SERVICE”.
MATURE LOVE:
They know what they want for themselves and the future. Their love is very strong, but with the least outward manifestation. Always thinking about things to come, they know how to keep the relationship going without the need for physical connection. IF YOU COME UNDER THIS CATEGORY, DON’T FEEL TOO GOOD ABOUT YOURSELF. YOU’RE GETTING OLD. AND UGLY.
INFATUATION:
“She loves me, she loves me not”. Stop mutilating those poor flowers, for god’s sake. Man up, and go talk to the girl. Watching and drooling from a distance is NOT endearing. It’s called ‘stalking’. Get a grip. If you’re a girl in this position, just go tell him. Guys love female attention and obsession. He’ll have a huge ego boost and might even decide he
likes you. It’s all hormonal anyway. PEOPLE, JUST DON’T LET IT TURN INTO AN OBSESSION. WE ALL KNOW HOW THE HORROR MOVIES END.
FEATURE
talk, stalking them on Facebook, finding out what they’re doing all the time… it’s all really nice until he/she finds someone else. That’s when it gets painful. Watching the person of your dreams going around with someone STAR-CROSSED LOVERS: else, sharing beautiful moments that were supposed be yours, your future memories. That’s when you become one of the Frustrated One-Sided Lovers’ Association. FOR THOSE OF YOU IN THIS BOAT, DON’T FEEL TOO SORRY FOR YOURSELF. YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE. LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE, They love each other dearly. But can never YOU DIDN’T GET REJECTED, YOU JUST GOT be together. They are unfortunate enough to WALKED OVER. be together emotionally, and never be able to commiserate their affection for each other. LOVE TO HATE: The fact that they hold each others’ hearts is enough to squeeze them full of pain. A double-edged sword, knowing they are there for each other, but they aren’t. NOW YOU KNOW WHY WE HAVE THE ZODIAC CALENDAR. CHECK IT UP FROM NOW ON. Ah, the dramatic relationship. Both hate each others’ guts, and love being that way. This love is passionate, violent and dangerous. Where both the boy and girl love each other, They crave each others’ attention all the but they’re too shy or timid to approach time, and get incredibly jealous. Their deep the other and come out in the open. This affection causes them to quarrel even more. unspoken commitment creates a strong bond A fight for each other turns into a fight with between both of them. They express their each other. Happens every time, but they live feelings with timid smiles, silent eye contact, for the relationship. FOR THOSE IN THIS KIND OF LOVE, YOUR and other sweet nothings. IF YOUR LOVE FALLS UNDER THIS CATEGORY, RELATIONSHIP IS FINE, BUT YOU MIGHT YOU MIGHT WANT TO LEARN TO TALK. WANT TO SEE A SHRINK. ACTIONS MAY SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS, BUT DON’T RISK IT. DISCLAIMER: If your relationship didn’t classify under any of the above, don’t worry about it… it doesn’t FOSLA: mean there’s anything wrong with either of you. But once it fizzles out (and it surely will), feel free to come to us for advice. We’ve all been there at some point of time or We can also be your shoulder to cry on. the other... unrequited, one-sided affection. This one starts off all fine… staring, pointing him/her out to friends, trying and failing to
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PEOPLE
Dilruba Pandey
A successful VJ, Achor, Singer and more importantly a loving wife and caring mom. SUKRITI LANBA talks to her about her remarkable achievements. Q. HOW ARE YOU AND HOW’S LIFE IN GENERAL RIGHT NOW? Ans. Life is hectic, with all the shows and events. It’s fun though, you rarely get to do so many interesting things. So right now, life is rocking. Q. YOU ARE AN ACTOR, VJ, MODEL, SINGER, STYLIST. HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE ACCOMPLISHED SO MUCH? Ans. I am proud to have achieved all this. It’s a great feeling when all the hard work and patience one has invested pays off.
PEOPLE
Q. YOU’VE CHOSEN AN UNCONVENTIONAL CAREER. WAS IT DIFFICULT MAKING THAT CHOICE? Ans. Well, I was extremely interested in art and dramatics, so it wasn’t a difficult choice to make. Also there is something exotic about being on stage and on screen that drew my attention. Q. WHAT WOULD BE YOUR ADVICE TO YOUNGSTERS LOOKING FOR A SUITABLE CAREER? Ans. It’s a choice one has to make for oneself. My only advice would be to follow your talent and listen to what your heart says. If you long to do something, jump in and give it a shot. I did that and it worked for me.
Q. HAS THERE BEEN ANYONE IN PARTICULAR WHO HAS HELPED YOU ALONG IN YOUR CAREER? Ans. There have been several people who have played a pivotal role in my career. My family, obviously, has been the most important. Not to mention my group of close friends. Q. HOW DO YOU JUGGLE BETWEEN HOME AND WORK? Ans. You have to make some adjustments; it’s fairly difficult for you and the family. There are ups and downs, but at the end if things can be sorted out with a little co-operation from everyone. Q. HOW DO YOU HANDLE FAILURE? Ans. I don’t brood over it and move on…life is beautiful. Why waste time on something negative. Rather learn from you failures chuck them aside and move ahead. Along with hard work, patience etc., a positive mindset is also important. Q. HOW DO YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND GENERALLY LIKE TO SPEND TIME TOGETHER? Ans. We love spending time at home together. With all the shows and event I can rarely get away to spend time at home. I cherish these moments. Q. WHAT’S NEXT IN STORE FOR YOU? There is a lot in store. I’m looking to perform on bigger stages, more singing, more shows maybe even a movie. Life is short might as well make full use of it. Q. WE HEARD YOU PERFORMED WITH BRYAN ADAMS. HOW DOES IT FEEL? Ans. Yeah I sang the opening act for his show at Kathmandu, Nepal and also hosted his show. It was an amazingly enlightening experience. It was also perhaps the biggest stage for me in my professional experience.
- Rachina Ahuja
H
(with creative inputs from
ave you ever wondered if the ‘L’ word actually exists? Of course you have!! Especially us girls eh? It really is MOST annoying that we grow up reading books and watching movies and then are suddenly catapulted into the real world when we realise that we’ve been fed a pack of LIES. *Cue dramatic heart-beat style music* I am sure everyone is familiar with the quintessential ‘prince charming’ who comes in many different packages but essentially, always has the same core attributes. He’s nice, he’s charming (of course), he’s terribly handsome and never fails to fall for the ‘princess’. But what they don’t tell you is that he probably is a narcissist, handsome in a pretty boy way really and in the real world will probably marry a really bitchy rich female and who suits his consequence more than poor old Cindy. This is “Chick-flick Prince Charming template #1” Then there is the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ variety who’s the brooding sort and holds the female gender in contempt except of course when he meets his ‘one true love’ and undergoes a metamorphosis of sorts. If it’s a Hollywood flick this change occurs over a 2 or 3 day period. In Indian cinema this takes place over the duration of a song that was lifted from an Afghan folk number. This my friends is template number 2. Now on to my personal favourite - #3 - The nerdy best-friend who apparently has been in love with his girl-best friend since ever he can remember and she doesn’t realise it! She, naturally, lusts after the ‘hottest but meanest guy in school’ (another stereotype)
FEATURE
LovelyLies!
Nishant Boorla)
and only after a lot of drama does she realise that her best-friend is actually kinda hot and she’s been in love with him her whole life! *Cue removal of ugly dude make up on the nerd* *rolls eyes* Let me tell you something, if a guy likes a girl, more often than not she can definitely tell and especially if he’s supposed to be her best friend. So that’s rubbish and what’s more, being in love your whole life and not knowing is rubbish too! How out of touch with yourself do you have to be to not realise? And the nerdy guy’s feet probably stink too. Come on!! So you see, we’ve been subsisting on made-up idealistic notions and in the real world it is not at all like that. Boys are no princes charming. The tall, brooding chaps are probably actually dangerous or... er.. just touched in the head. Lets face it. Boys don’t brood. I’m not saying girls are perfect, far from it. But I am saying that it’s not our fault on account of having grown up on books and movies which turn us into silly, sentimental fools. I wonder if there is anything such thing as a perfect relationship. I was watching that pathetic show ‘Emotional Atyachaar’ out of sheer boredom and the host said 30% of females and 50% of males admit to being more interested in their boy/girlfriend’s best friend rather than in their boy/girlfriend. And he very cheerfully added “So you see, your love may actually be eyeing your best friend”. Eeep! The statistics, if true, are rather alarming don’t you think? Almost enough to drive me into becoming a nun!
than the hero.
FEATURE
So does ‘true love’ and crap really exist?? Or is it just something the mysterious ‘they’ made up so that people will get married and the human race won’t die out? Even if love stories do exist, they certainly don’t play out the way they’re shown in the movies. Let me break it down for you.
In the movies - Lady love realizes now is the time and elopes rather ridiculously or confronts her parents. In certain movies, the Groom realizes now is his time to get pretentious and thus graciously offers the hero his place on the wedding stage.
LOVE STORY CLICHÉS:
In real life - Man heroically asks lady to elope 1) THE AIRPORT SEQUENCE - Lady love is on with him while she timidly looks away cause her way to a far away land. Prince Charming she figures there’s more on his way to stop her. In the movie - the hero runs past security and dodges
money to be made by marrying the man next to her! Commando units But back to girl talk. Speaking from following which they chase after him in slow observation rather than experience, maybe motion as he runs towards his lady screaming we should learn not to expect too much from “I love you”. guys, acknowledge our superior sense and In real life - Commando punches the guy in pardon them for their lack of it. And they the face so hard he ends up with 4 nostrils. should learn to think a little of things other Lady love flies away, marries a rich foreigner than themselves and not run away from emotional stuff. Don’t you think they would and fakes an accent for added appeal. get along much better then?? 2) “STOP THE WEDDING” sequence - Lady love is being forced to marry someone she’s Damn, I should write a book! actually better suited to. Hero turns up just in time with his faithful and broke - yes, always broke - gang of friends. Point worth noting here is that the friends are always way uglier
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FEATURE
In A Character’s Persona - Sayonee Ghosh Roy
T
his is not a character sketch of Devdas. Rather a dissection of his decisions, flaws and life in general and the cult status he enjoys. Same thing, you say? Well, character sketches are meant to be objective in view but you will not find that here. Pardon me so, for I have no patience with that man. So Devdas Mukherjee was a spoilt brat, born in an opulent household. He spent his childhood loafing around the village as boys of his age were wont to do, with his faithful companion, Paro in tow. Why children are discredited for not having “mature” emotions, I don’t understand. Fuelled by the friendly intimacy they shared, Paro ardently waited for her Dev to return from boarding school and make her his bride. We all know what happens after that. Paro’s proposal is rejected and met with acute disdain. Paro’s mother, incensed with the insult, fixes her match with a wealthier man. Of all the labels Devdas wears, one of them is Lover. We believe this affection was not one-sided and Devdas loved Paro just as much. Now if the woman you love, with her honour at stake, comes to you in the dead of
night and begs to be united with you, what does a man with a responsibility towards her, do? Falsify his true feelings and lie to her face because you were incapable of changing your parents’ decision? Rich men fall into two extremes: One where your wealth demands impeccable strength of character, honour and strong principles and the other where you are a weak lackey, riding on the coat-tails of your inherited credentials. Devdas is a sad specimen of the latter. Self sacrificing? How so? Neither of them is happy with what just happened, so of what value is this sacrifice, in foresight? Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone repents for them. And also pays dearly for them. When Devdas realizes his folly and runs back to Paro, it’s too late. Paro chides him for his vacillation but extracts a vow from him, to meet her before he dies. True, he doesn’t get a second chance and you really pity the man at this point, but life’s like that, at times. You’re forced to live with the consequences of a bad decision. Had he been the above mentioned Category A Richie Rich, he could’ve easily whisked her away, got married and brought
bottle on one side and Chandramukhi on another. My heart really goes out to this woman. I have more sympathy and empathy for her than the combined pity fans, the world over, shower on Devdas. There she was, public property, not allowed to attach herself to anyone but she did. Day and night, she sat by his side, listening to him say “Paro Paro” in a drunken stupor, probably envying this woman for whom he was wasting away, knowing she would never be able to take her place. For she knew her place in society, it was a fixed one and try as you might, you couldn’t rise above it. Evidence of this fact is her narrow portrayal on celluloid. I’m sure not many people are aware that Chandramukhi was also into social service and sought to free the peasants from the oppression perpetrated on them by Devdas’ household (zamindars, you know). Devdas’ ambivalent feelings for both women never did him any good, but on the contrary drew another heart into his gambit of pain and ruthlessly crushed it. What more do I say for this poor, wretched, downtrodden caricature of a man? You might opine that Devdas dying outside Paro’s mansion is heart-rending. In a way, it is. But it’s not the least bit romantic. Not at all. It’s just sad, incredibly sad. This is where a character’s fatal flaw comes into play. That one trifling shortcoming which becomes the game-changer and keeps them believable. No one likes Mary Sues here! In retrospect, had Devdas been a little more headstrong, adamant and firm
LITERATURE
her back. Surely they would’ve have relented? in front of his father, he would’ve led a After all, the Great Indian Joint Family always completely different life altogether and not lives happily ever after. end up as an inebriated hobo before his A man drowns his sorrows in wine and a former paramour. So at the outset the story woman’s eyes and Devdas found both. A goes like this – Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. But boy’s parents don’t agree to marriage. Girl begs for elopement. But boy is too cowardly to go through with it. So girl marries someone else. Boy depressed. Boy meets another girl but unsure of his feelings for her. Second girl understands it won’t work out. Boy drinks himself to death.
I’m sure something like this happens every day, in someone’s life at some point in some measure. Hold a bottle in your hand and whine about a lost love, that’s the first thing they’ll call you. But I’ll give it this, if something so disturbingly destructive attains universality, then it must certainly contain some proportion of epic-ness.
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L
ove between the sexes has had an important place in Indian philosophy. Neither did Ancient Indian society nor the Hindu religion, in its most basic un-corrupted form, shun the erotic nature of love. Several scriptures like “Kamasutra” and carvings on various ancient temples are testimony to this fact. So to see the severe moral policing that couples are put under during Valentine’s Day in the name of Indian culture is preposterous. Many would agree with me, others would disagree…but well, that’s not the point. The question is, is the display of love on a particular day against our culture? Is holding hands and huddling close together a sin? Let us take a look at the whole scenario that is prevalent in our country today. Saint Valentine’s Day is celebrated every year on 14th of February (you can look up the details on wiki, they will be way more factual than I can ever dream of being). Well the concept is European, but it’s a small world, and a young India also enthusiastically celebrates the occasion. Gifts, chocolates and cards are exchanged, couples confess their affection for one another again and again, red roses and hearts decorate every restaurant, café (well, every place a couple may visit), parks are jam packed, each obscure corner occupied by a couple. And all this is interrupted by a small group of people bent upon destroying the ambience and peace-ofmind of lovers. Well if it was just burning of Valentine’s Day cards and a little shouting, it
OPINIONS
Moral Policing Cet Over Yourself People.....
- Vakul Mohanty
would have been tolerable (you could just run away and spend your special day somewhere quiet) but these guys have taken things a step too far. Shiv Sena, RSS etc. take their actions to a completely different level. What they do is rob us of our choice of expression. They do all this on the pretext of conserving Indian tradition. According to them, celebration of valentine’s day tarnishes our glorious culture. Imagine you’re at a café with your girlfriend having the cuddly clichéd talk, when a bunch of angry youngsters surround you, drag you to a mandap and marry both of you. Preposterous, isn’t it? Well along with this you have the regular; beat the guy up, insult the girl and accuse them of destroying Indian culture… blah blah blah. All this in a country that advocates tolerance and understanding. A big word of advice to you extremists; it’s the 21st century for god’s sake; people are free to do as they please within the boundaries of decency. Love and dating are as much a part of Indian culture as is marriage. Though the scene has become much more liberal that it used to be, isn’t that the whole point of a progressive society? What happens on Valentine’s Day is in no way immoral or indecent. My advice: get a girlfriend, you seriously need to chill out, and also read up on some history if you can… there is something fundamentally wrong with your education.
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- Pradee p Damo dara
F
RAMBLE
Natural Blues og blankets everything. It reflects the melancholy in my heart, portraying the muddled intricacies of my thoughts exactly the way I perceive them, making everything seem more real and trancelike at the same time. I look around, gazing at the wonders the mist creates, experiencing various facets of my emotional makeup and sensing their manifestation in my surroundings.
to the emotion, and I attempt to bottle up the sadness. But I fail.
Perhaps it’s because everything is so serene, calm, and quiet, but the world seems to slow down around me… if only the train of thought would slow down as much. Maybe then I’d be able to concentrate on what’s going through my head, maybe then I could make myself feel differently. I say differently, not better, for a reason… I’m not feeling bad, or unhappy, or angry, for that matter. I’m feeling both empty and full, devoid of emotion but brimming with it, and I’m sinking into a confused, befuddled stupor.
I start paying attention to the details of the things happening around me, and I can almost hear music in everything. The leaves rustle in sync, while my tears play a steady drum beat as they reach the ground, one-by-one. The rhythmic crunch of boots on gravel as people walk by gives the whole song completeness. Melancholy is a wonderful word, it inherently makes you feel it’s meaning…
Silent tears slip down my face… the pace of their fall matching the overpowering tranquility that I’m surrounded by. I slip away into the multitude of emotions that encompass my heart, each one taking it’s turn at the forefront… but they all keep the tears flowing. And I still can’t figure out what’s disturbing me.
The music lulls me into a half-trance, and I float away in its embrace, feeling some of the despair slowly dissipate. And all of a sudden, the drums stop. The whole world around is silent. And a thin ray of sunlight breaks through the fog. I feel my lips part and I’m smiling, grinning, brimming full of happiness.
So I try to clear my mind, concentrate on the more distracting objects that lie around me, but they just bring me back to the initial state, left feeling so many emotions that they coalesce into nothingness. This nothingness is both comforting and disturbing at the In the end, there’s only one emotion left. same time, and despair swells up out of Contentment. I get up, brush myself off, and all the confusion, threatening a physical make my way back towards everyone. I’ve spent my grief; it’s time to give everyone else manifestation. a reason to smile. I hold back, refuse to give in and bow down
FICTION
INSANITY
H
e lay flat on his back, the back of jeep open to the velvet black sky. The moonlight drenched him, the wind howled over him and occasionally slipped under to touch him. He was counting the stars, he knew it was an impossibility, but long ago he had noticed the subtle order in the chaotic expanse of the cosmos. He had noticed the peculiar nature of the universe; behind the cloak of chaos was an underlying order and order always hid a subtle chaos under its structured ambience. One never existed without the other. Order in chaos and chaos in order were the foundation on which every phenomenon, idea and philosophy of the universe stood. As the jeep came to a halt, he reordered his thoughts and jumped out to walk back home with his parents. In the soft moonlight his serene face was clearly visible. Everyone presumed a stable, quiet mind from his calm
ty n a h o M l u -Vak
face… but behind the façade lay a mind in chaos. A tempest of contradictions and confusion raged within the confines of his cranium. A feral instinct twisted his thoughts leading him down terrifying alley of the human psyche. Behind the angelic demeanor was a demonic mind. He walked into the kitchen as quiet as a tiger and stood behind his mother. A frenzy of thoughts churned in his mind and from it rose a single idea, a single primitive craving… he wanted to see blood, he wanted to see someone squirm in pain. A thrill of anticipation ran through his spine as he pictured the scene, his heart raced as the adrenaline rushed through his veins. The urge was inciting; he picked up a knife and tested it on his finger. A single line of blood erupted from the wound that the knife had carved out on his smooth skin and with it a wave of sweet pain washed over him. Along with the pain came guilt and
FICTION
disgust. He hated himself for what he was and He was walking through the milling crowd, what he could become. Overwhelmed by the searching for a face, a mask that hid the emotion he let go of the knife and embraced insanity beneath. He was searching for a path his mother. He needed her warmth, her love. to sanity. He needed to hold on to sanity. EPILOGUE: During the day a host of worldly stimuli Order is chaos, chaos is order. This is the diverted his thoughts, never giving him an truth of the universe. Behind the façade of opportunity to wander into to the dark corners humanity there is a beast in every man. We of his mind. It was the solitude of night that he can deny the truth, forget it, ignore it but feared. He lay in bed staring at the fan circling it’s always there in the bizarre depth of our sluggishly overhead. He concentrated on its mind, lurking, waiting for an opportunity to motion, hoping that it would have a hypnotic surface. We can chain the beast and fight a effect or the effort would bore him to sleep. losing battle to suppress it… but we can never But sleep wasn’t a refuge either. His dreams eliminate it, for out very nature is bound to it. were punctuated by grotesque scenes. Our basic instincts and emotions are rooted He stared at the naked form on the table. She was bound, spread out like the Vitruvian man. Her naked form struggled desperately against the ropes. She looked so beautiful, her figure tense with the effort, her bosom rose and fell with her strained breathing .Her desperate helplessness had a strange erotic appeal. He looked at her pale face. He saw a specter draw a line around her thin white neck. He bent down until he felt her warm breath on his face, he stared into her pale blue eyes. It was as if he could see her soul, laid bare, unobstructed by emotions or lies. She shivered and turned away. He sighed and ran a finger along her flushed cheek. He wrapped his fingers around her neck. She screamed… He woke up screaming… it was a dream, just a dream… he fell back onto his pillow, drenched in sweat. A moment ago he was drenched in blood. The blood wasn’t there, but he could smell its faint metallic odor. He was slipping away, his sanity was being washed away in the brutal current of madness. He quietly slipped out of bed and walked to the wash basin. He splashed some water on his face and stared into the mirror. His face was pale with horror, but there was a strange twinkle in his eyes.
in this beast. The only way to eliminate is to eliminate yourself. It is only in the void that we are freed from our own nature. Rather than suppress my very self, I choose to let it run wild every now and then confine it with my sanity, restricting its immense destructive power, channeling it harmlessly away from society. Why do I do so, you ask? A caged, frustrated beast is infinitely more dangerous than a free one. I do so in hope that if one day I lose all restraints over my inner beast, it will not unleash its full horror. I have found my outlet after struggle and strife. We all must… or humanity will be consumed by its own insanity.
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- Vidya Hello stranger. What a beautiful day. Yes,I do go here. Well,it’s nice to meet you too. Oh. Pleasure. Hello there! We meet again. Nothing much really. Just a bit of trouble. The usual. Whatever. Why,thank you! No,there’s really no need. Oh,well if you insist.:) Hello! How’ve you been? Sure sounds like a good weekend. Wow! Well maybe we can go together. No,I don’t like pink at all. I like blue. Hello. Ooh you’ve got me something. And it’s pink. :/ :/ :| :) :)) :D :D :D :D Hey! Wait up for me. Missed you too. No,I’d like that,actually. At seven then? Hello,and thank you. That was lovely. Oh! Let’s get us some banana milkshakes. Well they’re my favorite too. Oh no,you did not. You did?
y
orth o m a Ram
FEATURE
HelloStranger
Haha,well it sure was worth it : ) Hey,I saved you a seat. Well,I can come with you ,if you like. No I’m not scared of walking back alone. But you can come with me too. Not that I want you to (but I do). Hello! Yes,I did call you last night. That’s strange. No,go ahead. No hard feelings. Really. Hello. Long time,no see. I beg your pardon? Did you really just say that? That’s not true. I can’t believe you would hold that against me. Fine, then. I saved you some banana milkshake but I’m guessing you want to pass. ...well,I was always a good guesser. Hello. ……… ……… …….. Well,bye then. I’ve got to go to….. Oh yeah,you’ve got to go too,to that…. Cya. “Hel…um”. That was harder than I thought it would be. I can’t believe this is it. Hello,stranger.
FEATURE
SlenderThread
- Roopak Khandekar
You could not convince me that everything was going right You were betrayed by your pretty but gloomy eyes Our fairy tale world vanished in broad daylight And we have just begun to realize The protection we’re trying to build around us Is nothing but a thin glass wall All can see through it, one blow can shatter it And push us off the edge into a free fall The slender thread that binds us together There are forces trying to break it But there is something inside us That will spur us on and we will make it I vividly remember that enchanting look on your face Somewhere in my memory it seems to be trapped It reminds me that sorrow is not what we have to embrace And will fortify that thread so that it doesn’t snap On a brand new journey, we now embark Bound together by this slender thread of love and trust Look at the heavens- there goes a shooting star… So let’s make ourselves one and make a wish for us The slender thread that binds us together There are forces trying to break it But there is something inside us That will spur us on and we will make it
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You were wearing pink And pink was my world then With time written in all colors of ink Come inside if you want the notebook Come with me into the dark And then we kissed, please take a look If my sister’s still outside in the park Yes she is, come kiss me again And please turn off the only light But instead I pushed you against the wall I won’t, it’s making your wet lips shine so bright Listen dog, don’t you do me wrong Come hold my hand, let me show you the way With different shades of darkness let us Paint the picture of a perfect day But now why aren’t you reaching out Not holding my hand, not showing the way To where you’ve planned to go alone Are you moving on, are you going away? Or are you already gone And have I already been replaced
FEATURE
OyeListen... Don’tCough WhenYou KissMe -Anuj Suri
You pervert, no, not that tight, hold me right I know this is no dance to you But you see this is the song of my life No music, no lyrics….me and you But I pushed you closer and I held you tighter And baby I had my reasons too It was half the warmth of your body And half the fear of losing you. You know you’re good at lip service, you said And in all senses of the expression I bit your lip and you whispered Well, that statement’s open for reconsideration We saw us rise, we saw us fall And we saw you see me drown You turned me on, you turned me off And we saw you turn me down That there, was the point of no return On you and in you, in your bed I coughed and said, “I’m cold” And it was then that you said, “
FEATURE
And has the picture of that perfect day Already been defaced
FICTION
Volta
- Nishant Boorla
Day after day,night after night Sunlight to me seems Kryptonite, I continue to crumble beneath this nuclear tan, Where are those days, when I was my own superman ? Long gone are the days when I was loved, Long lost are the times which I cherished, Blown away, my ego by a storm Of fork-tongued colleagues, isn’t that the norm? For years I was subject to incessant deceit, Beyond my control were the perfidious wrongs, Hoodwinked by Fate, hoodwinked by many a mate, I could see a rose bush, where there were only thorns. I wish I could look back on life and think I’m blessed, Wish I could smother gloom and slay regret, If I could make a wish upon the mighty stars, Winds of change would erode my indelible scars. To seek morbid solace in the embrace of death, Was the last thought to take reigns of my aching head, Before a flurry of wings revealed a vision, Of lights and tunnels of divine precision. Onward I venture with hope, apprehension, Of what use is a sting of venom with no retention? With a feather of a heart and a cerebral sunrise, Tainted memories give way to an unburdened paradise.
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FICTION
Head Over Heels-
- 400 W ord Spe acialist
prove he’s better than him, etc… Unfortunately, as expected, nothing works. And the scheming gets dirtier. Now that Rohit’s a green little monster, the plans start getting ugly. He befriends Karthik, acting like a close friend, plotting his downfall all the while. He finds out stuff about him, stuff he can possibly use to his advantage. Sad thing is, he doesn’t even feel disgusted with himself for being lekhya isn’t someone one would classify such a selfish prick. And he continues his plans, as drop-down gorgeous, but it’s always a using his newfound knowledge. matter of perspective. And Rohit perceives Needless to say, he doesn’t particularly succeed. her as the most amazing person he has ever seen Rohit was never a master planner, he’s innocent and in his life. Ethereal and tantalizing she seems… childish… only now full of bitterness and jealousy. seducing him with the mere aura of her presence. He is beginning to live in the hatred, allowing the He isn’t stupid enough to just foolishly call it ‘love’, negativity to consume him. And create something but one who felt for her as strong as he did would terrible out of that which was once =carefree and be hard-pressed not to call it so. He occasionally happy. talks to her, drowning himself in immeasurable happiness, while hopes abound that she feels the One day, he sees Alekhya and Karthik walking same way about him, and that she’ll tell him so and towards him, hand in hand. All the hatred pounds through his veins and venomous ideas pollute accept him and, well, ‘love’ him back. his mind… but he looks at her as she passes. And But then Karthik enters the scene, and blows her melts. The uncontrolled happiness in her eyes away. She’s completely taken by him, and Rohit breaks the beast within him, making him realize is left to watch helplessly as the woman of his what he was trying to take away from her. From dreams fawns over another, showering him with the one who held his heart. He had been plotting love and affection that should rightly be his. And to break the heart that held his own, all for his own a new emotion is born. A vile one it is, jealousy. selfish happiness. It consumes the rational mind, obscures healthy thoughts, leaving room only for plotting and Now he sees things clearly. She is with Karthik, and happy… which matters more to him than his scheming. own happiness. He looks into her laughter-filled So now Rohit starts making a plan to get Karthik eyes, and smiles to himself, accepting the fact. out of the way and turn Alekhya’s affections to the better channel. Him. One can call his schemes He grins, turns around… and starts perceiving shady, but they’re not downright despicable. Yet. Sindhu as the most amazing person he’s ever seen. It’s just a matter of time, and a few failed schemes, Ethereal and tantalizing she seems… seducing him with the mere aura of her presence… before more questionable methods arise.
A
And so the games start. Try to make Karthik look bad, try to get him to say something that would piss her off, try to attract her away from him, try to
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I
FICTION
NoEasy WayOut
- Vijay Narayan
t hurt. A lot. To put it any other way would faces. They’d come there to see a slaughter, be a barefaced lie. To watch the reigning world champion almost destroy the aging veteran who had dared take a shot at the coveted title that Where was I? Oh, I was living any boxer’s he so cherished. And instead, what they had dream. A shot at the world title. At the world’s witnessed seemed to have stunned them into largest casino at that. I was sitting in my corner, silence. The ageing veteran had actually lasted surrounded by my posse, waiting today to 9 whole rounds. (9 whole rounds!) When they throw myself at my opponent yet again. My were placing bets that I would be knocked coach stood above me, wearing his trademark out in 4. That look in their eyes- a mixture green and yellow sweatshirt, shouting advice of grudging respect, hatred, and most of all, into my ear. Something about attacking his sympathy. 9 rounds I had lasted, but a tenth body, not his head. Honestly. At this point of seemed unlikely. Later on, they’ll probably time, I couldn’t care less. I had reached the ask me how I ever managed it. Sure, my PR grandest stage in boxing terms. I look at my team (read - my coach) will come up with a coach once again. For a chain smoker turning long heart rending story of how I had been 60, the guy’s got a remarkable set of lungs. practicing hours and hours on end, honing my I watch as his mouth forms words that are skills, waiting to pounce on my opponent like ultimately spewed in my direction.. Oh well, a hungry wolf pounces on a gazelle. Not a bad that hasn’t changed in the last 10 years. story, eh? But frankly, the only reason I’ve The man has taken great pride in criticizing survived till now is pure, dumb, stupid luck. everything I do. Every jab, every hook, every And for that I shall hate my opponent forever. feint is critically analyzed and then regarded as pathetic. Well, there’s no pleasing some To be honest, I’d never expected to even be people. To be fair to him though, he has stuck given the chance to fight this guy. My coach, around. And we’ve finally made it. At 38, I’m the old warhorse that he is, however, decided pretty much a dinosaur in the boxing circles. that I couldn’t retire without having sought a And with a win/loss record of 21-40, I’m title. And surprisingly, the Boxing association pretty much regarded as a joke as well. And apparently felt the same way. Either that or courtesy of the lovely managers of the casino they just wanted to see me getting mauled. I’m boxing at; my stats are being displayed to Probably the latter. the public on large screens that hang 15 feet So, to cut a long story short, here I am. And above the rink. for 36 long minutes in the ring interspersed I look around, stare at the crowd. I see their by 9 in my corner, I had gone through hell. No, not the kind of pain that acts as the
as fit as a fiddle. There’s barely any blood on him. Sure, there’s a bloody gash where his lips are supposed to be, but apart from that, he barely even looks bruised. Apart from the gash and a thin lining of sweat on his muscular frame, one would think the guy was just getting into the gym for some practice.
I look straight ahead. 15 feet away from me, sits my opponent. Sadly, the guy doesn’t look tired. He looks angry. Understandable for a 26 year old world champion who weights over 200 pounds and has a win loss record of 54-9. This guy hates losing. His last loss was apparently 20 matches ago. A 20 match winning streak. That meant twenty opponents who had been younger, faster, and probably stronger than me had been taken apart by him. And I stand in his way of the 21st win. Maybe the guy likes blackjack, just a thought. But card games aside, this guy was mad. And who could blame him. Twenty of the best boxers in the world couldn’t beat him, and some ancient relic had taken him to a tenth and final round. For that, he will hate me. And for putting me through such torture, I hate him just as much.
I, on the other hand, looked like I had been through the mill. A gash on my forehead, a broken rib, and bruising on every part of the upper body. I looked and felt like a dead man walking. Not a very comforting thought.
FICTION
fire that can cleanse you (they did mention that in Rocky Balboa, just saying). No, this is the sort of pain that makes you want to kill yourself so that you don’t have to suffer for one more moment. The sort of pain that makes you wonder whether that damn title is even worth it.
I was brought out of my reverie by a tap on the shoulder. The coach, yet again. It was time to get up for the tenth round. Three more minutes of pain. As I wearily lift my battered frame off the chair, all the lights immediately switch back to the ring. I could hear the commentators shouting into their mikes. Something about this being the last shot I had to take down the monster in front of me. I could hear them questioning my capacity to bear pain. Would I last this one round? Or will the world champion successfully defend his title. My bet was on the latter.
The referee comes over to me, and shouts The saddest part was that even after 9 in my ear. Apparently this is my last chance rounds, he looks to back down before the fight starts. I could quit now, or walk into the
flashed past my eyes - that fateful day in the delivery room when my son entered the world; the day we first played in the park, the day he took his first step, the day we celebrated his first birthday. His first day of school. Great, amazing time to get emotional, And as the bell tolled, I looked one last time I chided myself, and yet, for some inexplicable into the crowd, as I had done countless times reason, I couldn’t stop. before. It was sort of a ritual that I followed. And then, in one fell swoop, I realize that I To look at the first row of spectators. To look don’t want to be here. All I want to do is get into the eyes of my wife . She sat there, in out of this place, and walk away. Go away a dark business dress and as she had done with my family far, far away from all of this. countless times before, she looked back I’ve been a quitter for almost 2 decades, why into mine. For 15 years, this woman had should anything change now? Won’t it be stood by me in my worst times. And for 15 fitting if I quit right now? I can see the critics years, had loved me, and taken care of me. destroying me already - the guy who finally A woman who, despite a successful career, went so far, right to the end….only to quit. was always there supporting me in mine. And Oh….it’s going to be priceless…. like she had done before, she looked at me I’m ready to raise my hand, to signal the with those light brown eyes, those beautiful referee... Oh, my opponent is not going to like eyes that sparkled so brightly in the present this. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction atmosphere, and I knew that win or lose - of knocking ME out. 21 wins or not… he will everything would be okay. hate me for walking away. Somehow I think Beside the lovely woman who I was proud to call mine, sat my six year old son in a white T-shirt over denim jeans, with a cap covering his curly hair, Normally, I’d have ordered him to stay at home, where he didn’t have to see his father being manhandled in front of thousands of others in the same arena. But this time was different. This was my first, and probably last, shot at the title. And I wanted him to be there when I took that shot. I wanted him to watch proudly as his father stepped up to the occasion and looked like a god. And in that one moment, in one fell swoop, I realized what I was looking at in his eyes... it wasn’t pride, it was fear. That one look almost made me stop in my tracks. I could see my opponent slowly advancing towards me, coming in for the kill. And yet, my mind was elsewhere. Memories
FICTION
labyrinth of pain. I’ll admit, he didn’t put it that way, but considering the state I was in, it was all the same thing. The mouthpiece in place, there was no way I could answer verbally. An attempt to shake my head was satisfying enough an answer for him though.
that will help me. I’ve been thrown around a rink for more than half an hour now. I deserve some fun, don’t I? And just as I turn in his direction to give him one last vindictive smile, I realize that he’s no longer advancing towards me. In fact, he’s less than 2 feet away from me… and his fist is coming straight towards my face.
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