Back in Wayanad , there is this orphanage I often visit. My dad believed that it was more divine to give to the needy than to break a coconut at the temple. The first time I visited the orphanage was because I had done something terribly wrong , sacrilegious and greedy. My Mum often told me when you feel agony or pain you should turn around and look at the people who doesn’t even have half of what I cherish. My parents wanted me see what kids my age could go through. They thought it was time the 8th grader was introduced to reality and the non scalable complications to life. Even today when I drive past the monumental statue at the entrance of the orphanage, I remember sulking on the back seat of a car , tears rolling down yet not crying out. I had realized the mistake I had done, what i had put my parents through. Looking back, my parents were more than mature to have handled the situation in such calm and sanctitude.
Today I am more sensible than that 8th grader but I don’t have cloths that fit the kids here anymore.All I have is a little time, to tell these kids about what they want to hear, some of them want to play with my phone ,some others want to know if I watchedthe latest movie in town and some of them want me to play with them.I enjoy the simplicity in them, how just a bunch of 4-lined notebook for cursive writing can bring about a princely smile on their face.

About an hour and half later I steered down the road, in a hurry to meet some of my old school friends.There was an old man by the road, asking for a lift, I did not stop , his image got smaller and smaller in my rear view and then as though I was enlightened about the breaking system,i stopped the car,  reversed…”To the town?”, “Yes”, he replied, I nodded, asking him to hop in.He was old, he had no much hair on his head,it shined in the sun, like a sword which had fought a million battles. He had something about him.Like an invisible halo. I opened the door for him and made him sit in the front seat, helped him put his bags in the boot. ” Going somewhere far ?” I enquired tightening my seat belts.”Far..”
He replied. He never stopped thanking me for letting him tag along.I learned about him, how he had no one left and that he was on his way to an old age home. I was speeding all this while, I slowed down and listened to him more intensely , he asked me if it was okay to stop at the nearby temple. I nodded without any hesitation. He told me how he and his wife would go there often,while tears rolled out of his eyes. He kept telling about his time in Bristol the south west England and about his love for physics.
He said he would get off at the main road from where he would walk to the old age home because he thought it was too much to ask of me and keep me from my friends.I assured him that it was okay.As I pulled over at the old age home people , there were two men, waiting , like they knew he was gonna come.I passed the bags to guys and opened the door for him. He thanked me a million times more and hugged me like he knew for a while now. ” You have made an old man very very happy, may god bless you.”
I drove out of the woods ,accelerating through the empty roads. I did not talk, i did not bother to check my messages or put on the music system on. I drove, wondering what would have happened if i hadnt picked the man up.I felt as though I had not done anything quite serene ever before.
Earlier this month I had pinned a note in my cubicle which read ” Stop chasing , start living”, I guess I am getting there…..I know I am.

Mumbai Calling.


Yet another random incident , the byproduct of my decision to be impulsive. I booked a ticket to Bombay and decided to ramble the streets with the good samaritan I had met in Nitte, Mr Anuj Uchil.

I wasn’t event sure when i would get back, I had never been the risk taking guy , I was one among those who always got to the airport two hours early and here I was in en route to Bombay without even booking a return ticket.I had made up my mind I would make the most out of all that I have got. One such thing happened even before my journey had actually begun,I Met Adil , the chimp rider. The Guy was one master piece , he rode all the way from Lucknow to Bangalore on his bike solo .He kept telling me how I should be doing something similar and the adventurous funda of it .Adil was a co-passenger , from the bus right behind mine,his story made a perfect coffee time treat. I hoped to meet him while we exchanged numbers at the small dhaba a little outside of Bangalore.
The morning was cold, I stepped into the streets of Sion. Anuj was on his way to pick me up. I decided to get my first cup of coffee from the amchi mumbai street and what are the odds that I would run into a Rahul , a fellow cyclist from Mumbai who went “ oh , you are from Bangalore , the most civilised people live there. You are welcome to Mumbai”. I chuckled at his Naivety while i enjoyed the treatment I was being given. I said bye to him to hug one among  my favourite people , Anuj.
We got into the taxi of the infamous  Ramu kaka, or so i assume ; ‘ you know , the taxi  guys here don’t cheat and its gonna 140 bucks, which, you are paying.’ I nodded looking out the window . The streets of a city that I adored as a kid.
We walked out of a room we had just checked into, into the streets of the great Mumbai.We didn’t know anything, anything at all , we decided to embrace all that the city had to offer doing anything we wanted to while we still could.
V.T was the first place Anuj wanted me to go to, considering how close it is and locals should be fun for a guy who is not a Mumbaikar he joked.Struggling to the Byculla station we thought it might be a good idea to just ask where the station was , we were taken back by surprise as of how this man actually guided us to a bus station which could get us to the place in just ten minutes. He waited till we got the right bus , “ so much for not being the most civilised people “ , i thought in my head.
We got off to the streets of VT, the scent of the incense sticks and crowded walk ways, typically Mumbai ! Anuj was as euphoric as me to see the crowd at the Local station.Huge british constructions. We were awed like a toddler out of his nest.Then began our rambling sessions. first day marked 18.54km on my health app. We had to call ourselves “The Ramblers” , we just had to, roaming the streets of colaba, nariman point and countless other infamous streets, another one of which i recall is Pasta street , fancy innit ? Also we couldn’t be more grateful to the Digital mapping system.
Day two made us experience the local trains, according to anuj “ if you haven’t been in one after coming to Bombay, you haven’t experienced the Mumbaikar life. This is the backbone of this city ”. We got into a train that took us to Bandra…. after a long walk and ache in our backs we sat on a parapet outside a typically old fashion store . A couple of minutes of googling let us know that we weren’t far from Bandstand. We as expected walked another couple or more furlongs to see one of the most beautiful places in the  Bombay suburb .
The journey for the day ended in the King Edwards Memorial Hospital, Lower Parel where Anuj’s elder blood awaited us. The place was a mess, dogs , cats and humans sharing the same platform happens to be  one of the best medical colleges in India. Ashwija looked like someone had drained the life out of her, engineering was not that bad after all I thought.The night was spent at the marine drive, Anuj and I sat there discussing small, big and all that happened in our lives.
Day three started late, an omelet pav and coffee at the YMCA canteen kicked started a day that was gonna be far more experiencing than the past two.We spend the whole morning in a Coffee day discussing our secretive plans for the future till our lady friend decided to call us .Half hour later we were waiting in front of Regel, awed by the moving crowd and enormously large British buildings. Again we rolled out into the streets for her to shop, it was more of a licence to check out hot girls who bargained over a 200 bucks sandal. She then introduced me to the mouth watering Dhabeli , a distant cousin to the vada pav.
As she bid adieu to us  , Anuj and I gazed at each other, exchanging the inner thoughts. Alright , we are going to Ville-Parle he declared. I nodded , in another half of an hour we were on a skywalk that never ended. We plotted a place in the remote Andheri to which we walked talking about all that we possibly could.The rest of the night saw a the couple of drunk ramblers, oh you guess , it was more than just fun.
The next day morning Anuj help me board a bus to Pune , he acted like my big brother , making me wait by the side while he enquired about the busses and made sure i got the right bus !
A journey that was totally random , that was the best outcome to my possibly weird   impulsiveness was coming to an end. While my heart throbbed to stay back i wanted to get back to the weird codes of salesforce. Sometime soon i whispered. Sometime soon….
P.S: Happy Bday Anuj. You sharp-witted bastardy !


Cycling down the road , I saw a silhouette, a fellow rider speeding through. We cyclists feel like a family , it is always a pleasure  hallooing out at them. And it is ecstatic when its somewhere close to home.

I geared up to get some speed , wondering if this guy would turn out to be a late night riding pal . Getting alongside between her dorky spectacles I found a face , smiling at me.

I have not lost my balance for even once before that and then there I was, lying on the pavement , mortified till the last piece of flesh on my body. I heard her mumble, “ damn the roads “ as she succoured and removed the cycle off me. “are you alright ?” I sheepishly nodded my head,embarrassed . She grabbed her cycle and walked with me… “ so do you fall a lot? “ she taunted with a  giggle. “only when i see pretty girls on a cycle “ .  *Guffaws*

We walked a little bit longer ,in tranquility .“ Do you wanna have a coffee , Mr Junior Software Engineer ?” *Pointing at the coffee shop by the side*. “ How did you know that ? “ I thunder bolted  and then she handed me my iCard .I felt like the girl . She was taking charge of our first collision of a date.

I had somehow gotten over the fall, for maybe her candidness was making me fall for her. I liked her, cause she didn’t mind having the ort of a cake that I had or sharing the coffee I was having , every time she adjusted her glasses, she talked to me like she had learned everything about me despite my quietude. I thought in my head…” damn I have always had a thing for southpaws, maybe this is just that part of my brain playing games with me deceiving me into the arms of solitude that has to follow, I am a big boy, I can handle being alone , I do not have to find a potential girlfriend in everyone “.

As we rambled back home , pushing the cycle alongside ,we aligned beside each other , I digressed in my  mind “this is one perk of having a left handed girlfriend…”. She would giggle in my stillness, like she was inside my head , conscious of all thats happening there.

I stood outside the huge gate, gazing at her disappear, she peeped out again to whisper , “ just a minute”. As I watched the street lights flicker, of a city that had fallen asleep. In the quietness of an empty street she came back to bless me with a buss.

A week later here I am , enjoying the warmth of her naked back on my arms, the smell of her hair. She canoodles like a two year old running away from light , nudging into my arms, finding comfort.

As I laid there, I felt a sense of content. I had not deceived someone into getting what I wanted.We were there just cause we both wanted to , we loved each other, snogging or riding the streets at odd hours.

I recall what Anuj said between the campus drives and the frenetic nights before the fest, giving me the nudge “ it’l all make sense , at this point it all seems so absurd , but in the end it’ll line up, just the right way and it will all make perfect sense”.

P.S : Fiction inspired by ‘J’.

Sometimes you just have to do the Write thing.


An avalanche of my thoughts, through her 🙂

Deepika Vasani

Midnight conversations are the most meaningful and the most real conversations one can have, for it is then, that we pour our hearts out, let others view the pattern of our thoughts and also get a screenshot of the real us. She had found her escape and she liked it there. She didn’t know why. She didn’t even care. No judging. No fear. No hesitation. It was a fortunate accident.

       “Circumstances change us. Whether you like it or no, reality takes control of you, and you know what? That sucks. Change sucks.” She complained.
       “Change is not always bad. It broadens your mindset.” He consoled.

“But sometimes you make a choice in that moment
 and you know in your heart it is going to change everything.”
Scary. Scary how one choice you make is going to attack you like a snowball of consequences running…

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The Child.


As a kid , I never took an afternoon nap, I considered that sacrilegious. I would wait for Mum to sleep, so that i could get to the sugar at the bottom most row and mix it with water ,to make my ultimate afternoon drink. The cartoons in low volumes was just the dividend.

When I was even younger , I assumed everything in the TV was real. I thought that the people inside the idiot box could actually see us just as how we could see them.I would never appear in front of the TV in towel after shower, dismaying  my dignity in front of the people I devoted. Another interesting theory I deduced was my surmise that characters could act “inappropriately” as long as it was a dream or else it was blasphemy cause they were doing it for real and it was not just in anyones fantasy.

The most I ever had to worry being a lower primary boy was those times when there was a parent teachers meet . I am sure most of you could relate to that. I had never got into  a fight , never got thrown out of a class for not doing my homework or have lied about my marks. The farthest i have gotten to trouble is collecting those fancy cards that came along with the bubble gums.Oh and i have gone through enough mental trauma for having done that transgression.

Life was simpler then , I assumed the world revolved around me, everything in this world was the way it was just cause they were placed there by god for reasons unknown,the reason that i didn’t care about.

Growing up; I believe the first milestone to it was to recognise that “FAB” written on a bus’s dashboard meant first aid box.Then came that time when I learned our body was made of cells,the famous french revolution ,Et tu brute -Julius Caesar and that amoeba was a brilliant life form.

When we moved out of the city. There was no Tv , some books and a computer.The only entertainment was the compact disks that came along with digit when Dad visited us. Installing a game was a tedious task.I often got calls on the landline seeking help for an install; as an aftermath to having distributed the CD in class.Regardless,My mum thought i was a genius at computers.That was the second milestone , i had outgrown my materfamilias.

Teenager , Oh I my friend was a brilliant example of this classical bleak era of human specimen.I refuted to most of what my parents asked me to do. I had quit being the nice guy, I flunked papers, I was more than usually thrown out of a class cause homework didn’t mean anything anymore and quite obviously the guy was in love. Milestone number three ,  triumphed !

Then came College, post adolescence .I have blathered enough about this session;To wrap it up, in spite of flunking in math all through the twelfth grade I did end up tutoring my friends for math, I could finally hold differentiation and integration close to my heart and I finally ended up adding the “software Engineer” tag to my Mail signatures. Another Milestone to full-grown.

The agony of waiting to get a Driver’s licence is no more,I can now drive on my own. The tenterhooks of the calls from home after sunset has ended.Having to fight with Mom for cooking the favourite is over.I can now watch the television to till the sunrises ,no one would stop me. But beneath it all , I can feel that

“little Sreedu “ as Mum always tell me, trying to get back on that blue little tricycle , circling the yard to a kilo of fake carrots for my mum before she could feed me the next ball of rice.

Probably why I culled the bicycle over a motorbike. Somewhere,the child in me smiles 🙂

the child

Just so you know.


I know I have never been the perfect guy you have longed for,though it sure seemed that way to most people around.

I have been condoning and capricious.I know I have been very different to the world outside of you and me;to the rest of them I was jovial and erudite.

I never wanted to agree to this, you were always the best among us, you were the smart one , you were the more understanding one and you were the patient one.I knew that all along though I never let that slip through my egoistic tongue.

I remember seeing you for the first time ,hopping down those  stairs; your hair left open with that happy expression and turning back to look at me just cause our common acquaintance had the urge to bring both of us into each others life.

I remember those times when crowded buses did not stop us from texting each other or signing across the aisle ,showing our skills balancing between the tight grip on the rusty rod and fighting the gravity on just one foot.The times I cherish.

So finally when we decided that we would make this work , I believed you cause it was you. If not you, whom i was to trust for we had been through so much in so little time.I have seen myself become a man from a boy with you.I have gone from son to sir with you. I have graduated with you, with every second of my college life having a unseen watermark signed by you.What more do i need to trust someone, you were the dogma that I couldn’t question.

But you see, life has a weird sense of humor like they say, all that we have been through took only a couple of weeks for you to let go.It only took a couple thousand miles to deracinate the intimacy.

I am not angry, I am morose either , I am palsy. I do not conclude this as blasphemy neither will I condemn you with finagle.I will not blame you or what you feel about us or anyone else in your life right now.

I understand you and your decision,Cause i know I am not there for you anymore, quite literally, I am not.

P.S : Deepika, if you are reading this, I feel it was totally worth the heartache. 🙂 

Amiably Broken



I am  at that juncture right now, when you realise that your tenets about someone you thought you knew like the back of your hand was a complete dubiety,the tranquility turns into a turmoil.Calmness into chaos and life as we know it,cease to exist.

Canto ONE
Amidst one of these senile evenings, my phone surprised me with a message, it said “Sreedeep,is it okay if I come over for a few days.I am quitting this place, this is not what i intend to do with my life.”, it was my so called black box from college , the roommate.
I did not ask him much, neither did i think of anything either.”Scoot out,the door is always open for you!”. This chap could have stuck around that place , trying to prove to the world that he is all that he has no intention to be, pushing him to the extend that could break him.But he just made it clear for me “Its not the whole world that i need to prove, it is yourself.
Canto TWO
Arduously, i decided to meet an old friend.A lot of things had made things between us very awkward, we hardly spoke. But then we decided to let it all go and catch up for good.
Sitting on the darker corner of the bricked building, we broke the silence with a long island. Quite surprisingly it was not even close to awkward.
Opening up to each other we realised ,we both were on the same boat albeit on different corners.
Swaying to the music, we had forgotten we had so much to worry about.Life seemed stoic,knowing you are not the only one in a catch 22.
Another Sunday morning enjoying a delightful breakfast at Brunton Astor, I received a text from Sangeetha Aunty , “ thought of you when i saw this” and an image which said ” A good life is when you smile often , dream big laugh a lot and realise how blessed you are for what you have”.That made my day,since then I haven’t ranted about all the forlorn things in my life. 
People like this make me realise there is a lot more to life than i am impeding it to. 
I might be broken,but I am amiably broken.