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The Fidayeen

He read the first page of the newspaper carefully. Maybe, there was some news he could help the Anti-Terrorist Squad with. It carried the news of 14 people being killed in a suicide terrorist strike. "May allah guide them and show them the right path", he prayed silently. His memory went back few years in time, litte more than 3 years when he was handpicked to be a fidayeen in the 'holy battle' as the chief called it. He had recieved 8 months of intensive training. He knew how to operate the most complex of weapons. That was after he was picked from an elementary school and groomed for years together. But such training was essential. After all, the job he was destined to do was not ordinary. He was supposed to be a suicide bomber in an important rally of a prominant national leader. He had to send the message loud and clear to the top bosses in the country. He was one of the most trusted ones of the chief, who was in charge of overseeing all the activities in the regi

Gunda

Recently during a random TV channel browsing session I came across a show in NDTV dedicated to movie GUNDA, a B-Grade masterpiece which has gained a stature of gigantic proportions.Many of us might not haver heard of the movie, but of the rest I assume most of them might have seen the movie, and a substantial proportion would have enjoyed it!! It is a kind of movie that fits into the definition of a cult classic!! The Orkut community of the IMDB 8.7/10 rated Gunda has thousands of fans, most of them can be classified under category of 'die-hard fans'. This movie has got a huge viewer base in engineering collecges and B-schools, and there are people whio consider your life as futile and worthless if you haven't seen this epic masterpiece. And there are considerable chances that the movie might make to the list of 50 all time greats, if there are enough votes keeping its ratings at the same level!! This Kanti Shah directed movie has the one and only Mithunda (fondly called as

ConneXions unlimited

PJ -> Why is telecom industry booming in India ? Reason--> People here love to have and flaunt connections ___ "Jugaad is the 57th art " - SS Shinde at his satirical best "Disgusting! This is the only thing I hate about our country... greased palms shaking hands with lack of integrity" - A comment on one of the posts in my blog https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28026042&postID=4721678402376407155 __ Connections - Many of us around the world love to flaunt it. Most of us wouldn't mind using it. We Indians love to flaunt it and often consider it as a essential tool to accomplish tasks of varying magnitude. Many of us work in day in and day out in order to earn connections. 'Networking' - a tool often used in achieving something is a milder form of connection, for the latter is the holy grail that makes you do with impunity what the lesser mortals think is sinful. There are often sons and daughers of powerful officials, bhais and bhateejas

Snaps from The Himalayas

Some glimpses of one of the best landscapes in the country. Why long for Alps when our own old, enigmatic yet beautiful Himalayas provide such magnificent and picturesque sceneries!! Have a look. Enjoy. Location - Garhwal Region, Himalayas which lie in the state of Uttrakhand.

The winning shot

3 runs required of 1 ball, the scorecard said. It was the final of a small cricket tournament in the locality. Lots were at stake for 14 year old Sonu, as he was popularly called. His performance in the tournament could be best described as mediocre. He had never been above average in studies, extra curricular activities and even sports. No one ever praised him for he hardly did anything praiseworthy. Not even little encouragement came his way. He always wondered what was his fault. After all, he was not that bad either. But that was the way it always was. He never desired much. But like all, he wished to be admired, praised, be like others who were so much liked. Today was the day to prove his worth; to make the world sit and take notice of him. One good hit over the boundary rope and he would be a instant hero. A hero in eyes of his friends, teachers, all uncles and aunts and most importantly his parents, who were somehow never satisfied with his performance. The bowler came all ch

The Detour

The 7 year old girl walked from school to her home. This was the first time she was walking alone on that route. On any other day, her mother would have gone to pick her up from school, but not that day. She was not aware that schools were declaring holiday an hour and a half earlier due to trouble in the town owing to some agitations and protests. Only few parents could be intimated about this. A friend’s mother accompanied her to the lane leading to her apartment, from where it was just a minute’s walk. But that day, for some unknown reason she decided to roam about a bit and take the longer route. It is not always that she gets to roam about, and no one would know about it. After all she wouldn’t tell her mamma about that. The road was almost deserted. It was usually the case around the noon time in this part of the country. She walked ahead leisurely, singing and dancing all along as if she owned the road. But this was short lived. In couple of minutes, the scene changed.

Follow thy Heart

http://www.rediff.com/movies/2008/may/27khan.htm Above is the link of an interview of Mansoor Khan - The man behind movies like Qayamat se Qayamat Tak and Jo Jeeta Wahi sikandar. His life went in following sequence - Son of a successful film producer --> IITian (... and dropped out) --> Went to USA for further studies (... and dropped out) --> Made few successful movies --> Settled as a farmer at Coonoor, far from the maddening crowd, to appear only once in a blue moon There is nothing special about this interview, but it is about a person who did the thing best seen in proverbs, philosophical monologues and books like The Alchemist - " Follow your heart", something which very few of us end up doing! Prima facie, it may look like fickle mindedness and a person being uncertain about things ... but ultimately he is in the exclusive club of ones who followed their heart!

Gods must be Crazy – X

(Warning -- Blasphemous content ahead. Read at your own risk!) __ “I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time” – Friedrich Nietzsche HE looked down the heavens, and had a hearty laugh. The long serpentine queue was moving slowly. With his divine brain HE calculated that mean queue length was nearly 600 and mean service time was 150 per hour. That meant people waited an average of four hours just to have a look at his statue, be awestruck for few moments, seek blessings and ultimately offered gifts in cash and kind. The PR agents in form of the priests in the temple collected them ostensibly for benefit of masses. The PR agents used various kinds of tactics and strategies to up the number of visitors; most important being the fear appeal which is often used by advertising agencies, in which the ill effects of not worshipping the deity for him possessing extraordinary supernatural powers was propagated. The marketing channel to improve the numb

Survival

Dark clouds were looming at the horizon. In few minutes they would have traveled few miles in westward direction and came closer. This is not usually the scene at noon in the hottest month of the year. Dark clouds meant something ominous. Probably sign of an impending storm or maybe a cyclone approaching. Sea is a capricious lady. Bay of Bengal was no different. It was infamous for cyclones, and Orissa was often at the receiving end of nature’s fury. Ramdas was few miles into the sea. So were his brethrens of the fishermen community. There were around a hundred boats in the sea that day. No one anticipated the storm. So no one even thought of staying back at the shore and miss out on their livelihood of the day. Ramdas was alone in his boat. He owned the boat. His son helped him with his job. They managed to get enough as to earn a square meal a day. They had a good rapport with others of fishing community. But of late that relationship was breaking down. No reasons for that. Nor wa

The Forest

The Toyota Qualis and the Chvrolet Tavera stopped after a long journey. It was almost 9 in the night and it was pitch-dark. Night times in a forest are always pitch-dark. Adding to that it was a good `thirteen days since the last full moon day. Adding to this, the cloudy weather made visibility close to zero. Later in the night the forest would be engulfed in a fog making it nearly impossible to see. The only noise audible was that of silence, few random insects and that of a train going at a distance. After a long journey they all were quite weary and all they wanted was some rest so that the next day morning they can head for tiger and rhino spotting among many other species of flora and fauna in the wildlife sanctuary. Right now it was time for some parathas, maggi and booze. All fifteen of them headed for the cottage which they had booked, sat near the fire place relishing food, chit chatting about college life, universe and everything. But chit chatting wasn’t what they came

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