The Thought Curry

Mand-fakir felt a whoosh of hot air rising up his backside before he was thrown headlong out of his cave into the frigid Himalayan mountainside. As disorienting as the launch and landing was, he realized that lying on his face on the icy mountain-side with a burnt and exposed bum was likely to be quite nasty. So he got up and examined himself. Satisfied that there was no real damage, he turned to check his cave. It looked the same. He looked up. The sky did not look the same. What had been a starless full moon night before his belly-flop had turned into a very starry one, and the star population was increasing even as he goggled at the strange phenomenon. Within minutes, the sky was ablaze with what looked like a crore suns; so intense, it pierced through his closed eyelids. And a few moments later it was dark again. Blinded, but excited, he tottered back into his cave, feeling for his conduit, a human skull. He dimly noted that his hand felt alien, as if it was only entertaining hi...

This caricature was made on a gloomy morning when I found myself depressed thinking about India and its politics. I cannot fathom how the conscience of our leaders allows them to bicker endlessly while the country is falling apart . Notes: 1. The turbaned person is Dr Manmohan Singh and the bald speaker is L K Advani, representing India's Government and Opposition respectively.  2. Use of R K Laxman's Common Man:  I am not sure what the copyright lawyers have to say about this, but I could not think of a better person on wheel chair for this.The drawing is mine, the character belongs to R K Laxman , one of India's greatest Cartoonist.

The following story was my entry for the 2012 Deccan Herald Short Story Contes t. I did not win it, though IMHO I should have ... :-) The last thing I remember from the time when I was alive is getting my throat ripped open by a pen. I remember being shocked. And then … I died. When I regained consciousness, my first reaction was one of bewilderment. I could not comprehend what I had become. And then it dawned to me. I had died. I realized I was now a spirit. A ghost. I do not feel like one though. At least not like the ones they depict in movies or books. There is no bright light I can walk into. I can not possess anyone. I can not rain fire or raise thunderstorms. I can not even walk through walls. I am like an invisible web. A net of thin tentacles made of air. Heat, humidity, even the slightest disturbance affects me. I do not have eyes or ears. I do not need them anymore. I can sense everything better than the time when I was alive. I can feel your heartbeat from w...

I feel caged. We are all caged. In cages that are closed cells on a big blue ball. We have a cell called Somalia where millions die of starvation. While there is another called America, where millions die of obesity related maladies. There are cells where dictators like Gaddafi exist. There are cells where six million children die of hunger every year. And then there cells where millions and millions of tons of food rot in warehouses.

Development for the masses… Yes… that is the term. Oh… since you just came here, let me acclimatize you with the season in my mind right now. I was thinking about the development pattern in India.

Hey “Smoker”... Yes you…!

Statuary Warning : Long and Technical entry.. Random is a beautiful word and randomness, a strikingly beautiful concept. The most intriguing thing about” randomness” is probably that it is virtually impossible to generate something TRUELY random ourselves or by a computer program

(Note from author: Dialogues vary depending on the ethnicity and the lingo) Time: 3-15 pm Place: Class Situation: Struggling to keep your eyelids up (SMS Message) Club meeting at 5- reads the sms. You groan and stuff your cell back into your pocket and get back to sleeping or listening to the class.