Quill, Write Ups


Gunshots rake through Chatanpally, Telangana. The four accused in the gruesome rape and murder case of Disha are killed. There is a celebration all around and closure for families of other rape victims. This is the victory of good, this is justice

But what baffles me is the meaning of law and justice. Does it entail retaliation and revenge? Does it encompass taking the reigns in your own hands? Or does it mean a systematic and organized process of punishment and deterrence?

These questions swirl in my head while reading the various perspectives regarding this incident that seems to have been the final straw in the history of appalling crimes against women. While some hail this act, others condemn it as an extra-judicial killing. And still, others feel this to be the awakening of a new dawn, a safer world, a brighter future. But this incident is a grim reminder of the eroding faith of citizens in the state institutions of courts. It shows how the years of wait in the courtrooms, hoping for justice have led to the reduction of its legitimacy. Courts are perceived not as harbingers of justice but as a mechanism of enhancing the victim’s suffering by delaying redressal of grievances. The pendency of cases, reformative punishments and an exhaustive list of remedies for the accused, evident from the mercy petition filed by an accused in the Nirbhaya rape case a few days back, have marred the fabric of trust and belief of citizens in justice. This, in turn, has unleashed unbridled rage. It has been aroused all those times the charred bodies and torn identities were displayed in media, girls were ripped apart and killed for daring to dream big. The tolerance has given way to hellbent rage, a longing to right the wrong, to take an eye for an eye and restore order in the society.

It is a sad state of affairs that the inadequacies of the state institutions have brought us to this cusp where we all now become our own masters and rebel against order and balance. But who decides this order and balance, the state and its mongering mouthpieces, the opposition parties with garlands of onions adorning their necks or the academia which does publish reports and articles but is then gagged and underfunded? Or is it decided by commoners, who ride their pillions towards their offices every morning and try to maintain a facade of normalcy in the face of the breaking news they read which threw their age-old ideals and ethics out the window?

While answers may not be plenty, I can say that the present state of affairs is not welcome. It only heralds a darker age of brute force and fury which will burn our existence to the ground.

Write Ups

Independence Day

As our flag flies high, it reminds us of our struggle to secure basic freedoms and rights. It reminds us of our promise to honour our nation and vest free from the shackles of jingoism and aggressive nationalism. It reminds us of the trust it has in our ability to live in peaceful co existence and harmony. It reminds us of the love it has for every citizen irrespective of caste, religion and class. This flag, it flies high with the aspirations of its citizens to strive towards their best version. It flies high with the dreams of millions of Indians.

Quill, Write Ups


I can hear you.

I can hear your ragged breathing as you sit beside me and whisper in my ear to look at you. But I can’t. I would be beaten black and blue. Why can only I see you, I wonder?

You twist my arm and compel to turn my head and stare into your weary face. It hurts a lot. I break free and run towards my mother, she hits me hard and I fade away into a corner. These sensations pick at my skin and fill my ear with mumbles and cries, delusions of dead bodies and spies, push me into a dark tunnel where hopelessness resides. If only, someone could me help me.

Our mind is a labyrinth, long passages leading to the nebula of emotions and thoughts, a farrago of ideas. But when our mind is ill, our lives can turn 360 degrees. Mental health, unfortunately, can’t be locked in a box and thrown into a deep lake. It is bound to resurface, a burning issue in today’s world, affecting people of all age groups. But our society and its brigade of conformists have shunned the depressed, maniacs and paranoid, they are considered to be a blot on our “perfect” society. This irrational behavior exhibits an innate fear; the fear of the unknown. As we commoners are unable to comprehend the complexities of our mind, we turn our back to these problems, afraid that it will end us up in an asylum. But the world tried to restore order, it engineered psychologists and psychiatrists, therapists and life coach to facilitate the understanding of the mind and help people with mental health issues. But what the world couldn’t augur is that these messiahs would be ostracized too. They are labeled as crazy people who treat crazier individuals. This has resulted in mental health being reduced to a taboo. But this has the capacity to strike back with greater force, mental health is like an obscurus, our bottled up emotions can wreak havoc in this world.

So, I would like to extend a hand, to those who have shut themselves to this world. i would like to knock at the bolted doors of your mind, pick you up and help you stand on your feet so that you can do the same for others.

After all, happiness can be found in the darkest times only if one remembers to turn on the light.

Brevity, Quill


It is hot and boiling anger, born out of confusion, helplessness, and betrayal. It runs in my veins, on a pre determined course. It makes me wonder about the failing society we live in, it leaves me dejected when I glance at the mayhem that has ensued. It makes me weak in front of people who manipulate and distort the lives of others. It makes me impulsive and I take wrong decisions. This searing anger makes me a wild beast as I am unable to tame my emotions. This fury charges me up to wreak havoc. It blinds me to the subtleties of life. It makes me turn my back on hope. It fills me with fire to destroy myself.

And, I readily give in.

Quill, Write Ups


The pain of the hot oil which spilled on your hand, that searing pain you endured, without a word and with tears in your eyes, a burn because of haste, to fill an empty stomach. The red eyes and yawns, those sleepless nights, when my aching body and agonizing cries were enough to keep you awake. The slender hand with firm fingers wrapped around my waist, supporting my stumbling figure, helping me walk after a long time. Those huge eyes, deadpan eyes, staring at me, doing their magic as a glance was sufficient to make me do my chores. Your death stare is indeed remarkable.

Delicacies galore, which I missed when you weren’t around. An assertive voice, supporting me through thick and thin, standing up for me and daring anyone to mess with me. Quirky humor, giggles, cackles, soundless laughter and a broad smile, a sign of how proud you felt when I first won a competition. Those endless talks on the couch, when I started confiding in you, those horrible mood swings when I banged the door of my room in your face, not realizing the sorrow it gave you, those beautiful moments when I cried and your shoulder was always there to support my frail emotions. You give all of your time to me, loving and caressing me, not understanding how difficult it makes the decision of leaving you and finding my own path.

I don’t need one day to appreciate you, I don’t need to put a status on WhatsApp to show the world how much I adore you. I don’t need to wish you a Happy Mother’s day because I strive to take care of you and love you every moment of my life. I wish to make your everyday special.

Brevity, Quill


I sit in a corner of the bathroom. My school uniform is in tatters. With a swollen face and red eyes adorning my appearance, I reflect on how I was bullied by a couple of seniors. They called me maggot and forced me to strip in front of them. I feel nothing but pity for these inane, fatuous bigheads. Another day in my life, spent in this bathroom, my closet, as I long to come out. But, the time isn’t right. It will take a decade more for acceptance to be served on the platter. I pick myself up and look in the mirror. All I see is a young lad trying to dream and live his dream.

With courage I smile, a farce which I hope becomes my reality. And with this hope, I will live another day and yet another day. Because you don’t need arms for freedom. You simply need guts.

Revolution has begun.

Brevity, Quill


I have been stifled for too long. My body has been beaten and raped. A lot of time has passed by, I don’t run carelessly in the meadows at the back of my home or steal apples from my neighbor’s orchards. I don’t laugh. I lay still and look at my reflection in this dirty mirror, it’s smooth surface shattered when he smashed my head into it. Like the broken shards, my face too reflects a million shades, a myriad feelings and a broken dream, its vestiges filling me with sorrow. I pick up my bruised legs and and wobble at the back of the room, my cage since the last five years. My nimble fingers deftly hold the sleek rifle, my experienced hands filling me with a blazing fire.

Revolution has begun.

Quill, Write Ups


It seems that DC has finally broken its long drought with Wonder Woman, Aquaman and Shazam. As it tries to level the playing field with Marvel, we are presented a humorous take on a super hero movie with family at the centre of this ride.

The movie begins with a young boy, Thaddeus Sivana entering the Council of Wizards and tested for the powers of the champion, which he fails. Forwarded to the present, the travels of an abandoned 14 year old child, Billy Batson and how he is taken in by a loving couple who run a group home weave the story. As he stays aloof and tries to avoid his room mate Freddy, he is transported into the Council and chosen as the next champion, Shazam! being the magic word. What follows is a hilarious ride as bizarre superhero names and random power tests come to the fore. It is goofy and nerdy humor which carries the movie and lends it an innocence. There is a villain and no prizes for guessing, it is the same insulted child who took the old and frail wizard’s remark to heart. The superhero versus villain and demons with poor CGI effects is the only let down as cliche is served on the platter.

The movie has some wonderful moments while some which one can skip as well. A mix of punch lines and melodramatic display of family ties, the efforts of the director to drive this message home are futile. Rather, these scenes make you yawn and squiggle in your seat wanting for some strong twist. Even though the movie is quite predictable watch it for some good acting, witty dialogues and fun quotient.

Or, you can enjoy it on Putlocker. After all, nothing is better than watching pirated movies on your laptop.

Brevity, Quill


Have you heard the music of the grass, the way it sways to the sweet breeze? Have you felt the wind on your face, as you stick your head out of the car window? The way the heat tingles at your feet and beams of light dance on your hands. Have you looked at the sky, the dark blue sky, endless and infinite, for hours? Have you smelt the fragrance of petunias and sweet peas in your garden and heard the buzz of the bee as it flies over your head? Have you noticed that everything seems to dance, dance to a soundless melody? There is music in the road, a music of legends and tales, of cars and scooters whizzing past, etching their stories on the surface beneath. There is a rhythm in the wind chimes and in the footsteps of wandering souls. There is a melody of nature and a medley of symphonies. There is a noise in this otherwise cocooned, silent world.

The music doesn’t play on the radio or in the phone.

But, it is out there, every second and every minute. You just have to pause, lend an ear and listen.

Brevity, Quill


My once happy chatter has turned into silence, a heavy silence which hangs in the air and speaks a thousand words. I shift in and out of shadows, only show my presence when needed. The acerbic jealously of my mates cuts through my weak exterior. Is it a crime to be a topper?

This jocular question doesn’t resonate with the deep thought invoked by the first few lines. But here it is, the truth of being a topper. Because if you are one, you are on your own, a lone wolf.

Everything changes in an instant, friends turn to foes and classmates grow sick of the bestowal of praise and accolades on you. You lose yourself in this river of styx, hate to be precise. You long for normalcy to restore, when people are able to see beyond this facade, when they are able to see how funny, mischievous and average you are. Sadly, such specialized goggles are yet to be invented. But they are being pre-booked, because they would make this world a simpler and happier place to live in. We wouldn’t only be friends with benefits, who can be manipulated and twisted at will. We wouldn’t face betrayal and be the butt of all jokes. We would be seen for who we truly are, jealous, egoistic, lonely or misunderstood.

Being a lone wolf is a tiresome job. You share all your secrets and jokes with yourself and ramble and mumble all the time, or invent an imaginary friend, till the point you go mad. So,it is time we looked beyond the hut, the river, the grass and the mountain in a landscape to observe something that was present all the time, yet absent to our eyes, the breathtaking sky, tinted with hues of violet, pink and shades of joy.