THE CONQUEST

She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She felt proud and ashamed at the same time.

She stared at the beautiful stretch of nature with colorful lives moving around, she intended to calm her disturbed mind, she wanted her stubborn brain to freeze and her thoughts to disappear, she wanted to feel normal, feel happy. The bad thoughts from the past stick to the brain and ensure its presence felt, she wondered the reason for the positive thoughts eclipsed by the negative ones, the reason for the brain's effortless display of the negative thoughts, the reason for extra efforts to control our brain and to ensure positivity which is a very complicated process. Huge money is poured in worldwide for trainings, thousands of books are written, hundreds of educational qualifications are created, many ancient scriptures have been analyzed only to gain knowledge , to control our thoughts, to keep our mind positive.

But today she felt a sense of confidence, a sense of achievement as she had conquered over her negative thoughts, the thoughts that had haunted her for twelve long years.

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Pitch black, darkness all around, she tried to open her eyelids but it was impossible, a cloth gripped her eyes tight, she was woken up from deep sleep, by the time she could regain her senses, she heard a voice, it felt familiar but unknown, a sense of fear embraced her, she froze unable to push her vocal cord to create noise, she could sense sweetness on her tongue, soft and milky chocolate which was her favorite, tears pierced through her closed eyes and her shouts ran through the surroundings, suddenly the noise was obstructed with a cloth forced into the mouth. Finally, the unknown voice spoke out "Shhh... I am your Santa Clause, sweetheart", the girl was confused, soft touch of the unknown Santa relaxed the little girl. It spoke again "many gifts are waiting for you dear".

Santa Clause was her favorite grandpa as a little girl, every Christmas, she never knew when it would arrive, but would wait for it. It was always a big surprise for her, a big collection of Barbie dolls arranged around her bed was the surprise gift from her Santa. The cute grandpa would then convert into her father, she missed her father, she missed her Santa grandpa.

She felt herself being carried from her bed, the warmth of her blanket was embraced by the cold air and goose bumps emerged on her soft skin. She was blank, confused, happy for the arrival of Santa after  her long wait, fear of the darkness stuck to her eyes, she vigorously moved her hands to feel the person who carried her, moved her legs to get away from the grip of those strong hands, her nose felt the aroma of the washroom, her voice "Maaaaa..." shattered across the walls of the room which was cut by the cloth stuffed inside her mouth, her tears drenched the cloth tied around her eyes, she heard the familiar voice again "Shhh... my dear, I am your Santa grand pa, don't be afraid" and she felt something on her cheeks, it was a kiss. The girl struggled to move away from the hold, but her soft efforts was no match for the strong grip of the Santa. She felt the cold air as her favorite pink frock was ripped from her body. She felt those strong, rough hands touch every section of her body, she felt a sudden pain between her legs,  the 6 years young girl fainted with sweat all over her body  as her body and mind could not bear the pain. 

The little girl felt the drops of cold water splashed on her face, the darkness inside her, returned the fear, the pain and she opened her eyes to the bright sunlight with a strong shout from her vocal cords, she closed her eyes unable to bear the brightness, tears flowing out of her eyes hunting for her mother, she could not find her, her fear building as every second passed, she jumped out of her bed, to slip out of the grip of those hands that held her tight last night, she could still feel it. She ran in all directions of the unknown place shouting and looking for her mother, her internal fear and anxiety shot her brains and she fainted in the matured arms.

Perfect section of white hair among the dense black hair, a sense of confidence and strength emerged from her eyes, soothing face which would have been very beautiful during her youthful years, she picked the little girl, Diya and placed her on the bed, caressing her hair. Dark moments of her past flashed in front of her, the muscular hands holding her, feeling her, when she could not understand the meaning, the way she was utilized for many years repeatedly, the fear, the pain , her cries, her shouts, she had taken a form of a body without life, her escape from that dungeon, her struggle to live, every scene of her past life passed across her eyes. She had undergone the same trauma.

Diya's body boiled, her body temperature had increased rapidly and she was unconscious. She had to be immediately hospitalized.

Diya's anxiety, disturbance, fear, pain, confusions, cries, search for her mother and father reduced as the days passed on, she accepted her situation and tried to move on.  The lady who had held her in her arms the day she had woken up from the dreadful shock, had faced all her madness, extreme actions, had supported her in every step, Diya felt the lady knew her more than herself, she handled her with great maturity and understanding. She felt great and blessed to be with her, she could be herself in her presence, she could be a mirror with nothing hidden behind her, she called her "Amma" the way she used to address her mother, but still there were some un answered questions floating in the vast ocean of her thoughts, they never sank.

Days passed, Diya was growing into a beautiful lady, dense silky hair, designer eyebrows, dark brown eyeballs which emitted the hollowness inside her, sharp pointed nose, neatly carved lips, perfect curves developed as she practiced yoga everyday, which she inculcated from her childhood, she had developed a very attractive but unknown, under confident personality.

Darkness all around, hands and legs tied, plastered mouth, she could hear her shouts but she could not shout, fear filled her, she was drenched in her sweat, she could see the red costume and the white beard of the Santa but her eyes were shut, she could feel her frock ripped away, cold air embraced her body, her legs were spread and she heard a loud shout, she opened her eyes, it was the same dreadful dream, still it felt as the first time. She got up with loads of efforts as her body froze during the course of the dream, she went to the washroom and splashed cold water repeatedly on her face, she wanted to feel cleansed from her dream, she suddenly stopped as the words of Amma rang in her mind, " The day you free yourself from the captive and kill the Santa, you will cross the borders of the darkness and enter the land of light, sense of freedom will embrace you, you will feel the heavy weight from your head being lifted, you will feel a sense of achievement, you will be proud of yourself". She lifted her face and stared at herself in the mirror, water droplets dripping from her spotless skin, she stepped back until she felt the wall behind her, she slid and sat on the floor with her folded legs, she decided once again that the next time she would taste the blood of the Santa.

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Sun rays entered the windows of her room, it was another day, another challenge she had to face. She stepped outside the house after taking the blessings of Amma, loneliness enclosed her, a fear of unknown grew inside her, she could never gather the courage to use a public transport on her own, she took her vehicle and drove to the college, on her way, every second she would stare in the rear view mirror to ensure that she was alone. She stepped into the college, it was a known land with unknown people for her. She had some female friends, but she never dared to speak to guys. As she was very attractive, loads of guys tried to hit on her, but were unsuccessful. She had an internal crave to speak to the guys, but when she tried, scenes of her dark past flashed in front of her, it was a male who had built that fear inside her and she hated it. She was good in academics as she focused on her studies to keep her mind busy.

She sat on the bench in the classroom and stared at the window, as her friends discussed on the trip to Goa in December, Christmas holidays, December month was absent in her calendar from the day she understood Santa arrives in December, celebrations had turned punishment for her, a single mistake of someone had become a lifelong  dark and fearful companion for her. The words of Amma rang in her mind " Diya, you are strong, you have to capture your fear, you have to win over it, you have to make the Santa bleed, its only you who can do it".

She drove back home and rushed to her room, picked up the photo and stared at it, it was her mother. Amma saw her Diya flow into her room as always. She saw herself in Diya, she saw her past fears, pain, loneliness, frustration, confusions, unanswered questions, disturbance, anger in her. She knew that Diya will destroy her fear and win over it, she could guide her but not help her, it was the rule " Each individual should help themselves, its only then that they experience a true victory, a true sense of freedom and a true satisfaction." Her phone rang, she answered it, it was Diya's mother online.

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Diya's mother spoke to Amma for 2 minutes  and disconnected the call. She relaxed in her chair still worried about Diya. It was 12 years now, and Diya was still locked in the dark cave of evil, she was still unable to cross the borders and step into the land of freedom, she had the confidence in her daughter but still she had the fear as a mother. The night of the incident appeared in front of her eyes.

 She had been to her friend's house and had to return the same day, but as it was the month of June, heavy showers splashed in Mumbai, she had called her husband to tell him that she would return the next day and to take care of her daughter. As she sat in her friend's (Amma) house discussing her problems with her husband, she felt uncomfortable, she could feel butterflies in her stomach, she was nervous, anxious, restless, she could not speak, her heartbeat increased, she immediately called her husband but nobody answered, she could not digest it. She got up, pulled her bag and umbrella and walked out into the heavy showers heading towards her home, her friend tried to give her some money to take taxi, but she rejected it and just walked off. She struggled through the local train and auto and reached her house, she rang the bell, nobody answered, she dug into her bag for the key and opened the door. She rushed in calling for her daughter, could not find her, she sensed some danger. She rushed into the kitchen and took the knife she used for her safety from her husband, she searched the drawing hall, Diya's room and when she stepped in her room, she heard the loud sound of the water dropping into the bucket, she rushed towards the washroom and pushed open the door, she froze, time stopped, she could not hear anything, she could not believe her eyes, she lost her balance and fell back, she threw up, almost fainted, something pulled her back to the current situation, it was her daughter's innocent face.

She rushed towards her husband and forced the pointed knife right into his heart, before he could understand what was happening, his naked body collapsed into the pool of blood. She picked her daughter and moved out of the washroom, untied her eyes, she had fainted, she was shivering. She immediately pulled a blanket and wrapped around her daughter's naked body and hugged her tight.

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She was blank, everything happened in spur of a second, she sat staring at the door of the washroom in which lie her husband's body. She was totally drenched, sweat profusely, eyes wide open, blood stains on her sari, blood soaked hands, she lay Diya beside her on the bed and searched for her phone, could not find it, she ran into the kitchen and found her bag, she rushed back to her daughter. She dialed her friend's ( Amma) number and spoke to her with lot of difficulty. After the call she sat staring at the washroom door, a sense of satisfaction flourished in her mind, she had killed the evil and saved her daughter. She took a bed sheet and moved into the washroom, it was all red, she turned her husband's body, it stared at her,  before she could cover it with the bed sheet, she pulled out the knife from the body with all her strength, the knife with the evil blood smeared on it.

Her friend (Amma) ran an orphanage in Mumbai, with her contacts and support, it was proven that the murder was an act of defense and Diya's mother came out free.

She blamed herself for that evil night, her mind used to play all the options which could have avoided the crime on her daughter, " she could have taken a taxi", " She could have taken her daughter along with her to her friend", "she could have avoided going to her friend's house" ., it made her heart sink and she could not gather the courage to face her daughter. She had requested her friend to take care of her  and spent her life in service of the orphans.

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Darkness all around, hands and legs tied, plastered mouth, she could hear her shouts but she could not shout, fear filled her, she was drenched in her sweat, she could see the red costume and the white beard of the Santa but her eyes were shut, she could feel her frock ripped away, cold air embraced her body, her legs were spread wide, fear captured her, but this time she could not allow herself to be captured, she struggled in the bed and kicked the Santa with all her force standing between her legs. She was trying to pull out her hands from the string with all her strength, it was paining but she could not surrender. One of her hands freed, she pulled the knife from under her pillow and slashed the throat of the Santa who was trying to take control of her, his body collapsed on her, with his blood oozing out on her. She freed her another hand and pushed the body away, she got up and stared at the face of Santa, she was shocked, she opened her eyes with a loud shout.

She jumped out of her bed and rushed towards her Amma's room, she smashed open the door and ran to the arms of her Amma, she hugged her tight, tears were rolling out of her eyes, she spoke " I killed the Santa, I killed the Santa, I killed my father". Amma smiled with happiness, tears in her eyes, at last Diya had got over the reality. She hugged her and caressed her hair. Diya asked " Where is my mother" , Amma got up from her bed, went to the cupboard and pulled out a blood smeared knife, handed it over to Diya, she was confused. Amma then told her the whole series of events that took place. She was proud of her mother , she felt lucky that she was a daughter of such a strong woman.        

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She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She felt proud and ashamed at the same time. She raised her eyes and could recognize a familiar figure, age was easily shown on her face, fresh black hair had turned grey, but the strength, the courage was visible in her eyes, Diya got up and ran to her mother's arms.

ROY

Lets not submerge in the noise of silence.

I recently watched the movie "Roy", I generated a strong feeling that I have to pen down my thoughts which evolved during the journey of the movie.

Movie moves with dual stories on parallel planes. Both stories are minutely stitched with each other. 

A successful movie director, Kabir portrayed to be a loner, is in the hunt for a new story for his upcoming sequel. A pack of smokes, glass of scotch, type writer on the table, nothing passes his mind which can be converted to a movie. He misses something, something unknown, or known but submerged deep inside.

A loner, sometimes I wonder, is loneliness a choice of an individual or it happens by chance. Human is a social being, are we going against the natural law by creating loneliness for oneself or  there no such law. Does loneliness help us to discover oneself,  to understand oneself, to increase mental strength, to take decisions of one's life, to direct our thoughts the way we want than to allow others to rule them, to feel the sense of real freedom when questions and answers do not accompany your actions, where time is under your control, where happiness and sadness, tears and smiles is felt by oneself.

Loners are developed on two dimensions. Under confidence, wherein our thoughts are ruled by others, wherein fear swallows our mind and we fail to live, reasons can be many, we find ourselves alone. Another dimension wherein confidence is at its peak, an individual who believes in his/her dreams and feels association with another individual is unnecessary, who feel, relationship is a burden or who have a fear  of attachment, even then we find ourselves alone.

The movie director catches a link and lands in Malaysia to shoot for his upcoming sequel. On the land of glory, he encounters another famous director Ayesha who is shooting for her movie. She strongly believes that the work of an individual reflects his personality, it is a best way to understand an individual. The interesting interaction of these creative directors sparks a relationship. He finds his story in the relationship and flows his movie based on the real life incidents with Ayesha.

His movie storyline ends with partition, distance, loneliness what, she believes is the soul of Kabir, that forces her to part from Kabir. Words can lie, but the work of an artist cannot.

 Kabir who has gone through 21 relationships , starts missing Ayesha. The question is , can an individual be a loner, does the loneliness loose its essence in the absence of a real partner, does the loneliness covert to noise in the absence of music, does the loneliness become a punishment without any purpose, does loneliness become torture without the individual we love. This pain makes Kabir change the end of his script to reunion and also makes Ayesha a part of his life.

Loneliness leads to freedom, right partner gives us the essence of freedom. So, it is not loneliness, but the freedom that an individual wants. Even a sperm, after ideal growth wants freedom from the mother's womb. So lets not create distance from relationships, lets choose the right partner

Purpose

" Good Morning !!" a sweet female voice ringing in my ears, imagination travels all over the heaven, dreams roll out beautiful scenes, life seems so much interesting until my shut eyes open to the real world. My eye lids pull down with ultimate force to get back into the beautiful world of sleep, my whole body support my vision parts and relax on the soft material under, except for the auto clock set in my brain which has high determination to push my 70 kg body out of the bed. I wonder, Is this the purpose of Life ?

The morning routine feels to be such a big challenge even though I have been doing it myself from 20 years till date, shocking. Something seems to be incomplete, like the Arabian grape juice with seeds, u always want the tasty juice to slip in smooth into your throat with the soft pulp adding to the delight, but the presence of the seeds spoil the fun. As the ever active hands of the clock strike 7:20 AM, I hit the roads, all along the stretch I watch  possible gloomy, sad, depressed, angry morning faces. I keep hunting for a single cheerful smile but fail always. I wonder, Is this the purpose of Life ?

I enter my commutation bus, see the same faces on fixed seats with songs ringing in their ears, eyes tight shut. I wonder, does everyone wants to separate from the real world. Strong jerks hit me as the bus passes through the routine speed breakers to wake us up. Every living breath in the bus wakes up with a depressing expression and sounds. Then the 9 hours of the corporate life just passes by with instructions, demands, competition, envy, pressure, presentations, fun, laugh, arguments, requests, challenges. As the active hands of the clock strikes 5.30 PM, all the electronic lives of the company are shut and I find the cheerful smiling faces forcing themselves away from the work place. I wonder, do they want to separate themselves from the real world. Tiring legs of mine step into the apartments, and I feel alone, familiar faces seem unknown. I get a feel of the Arabian Nights, nomads spreading across the deserts with their lone companion, ship of the desert. I wonder, Is this the purpose of Life ?

I am forced to think why is the world so noisy, but silent. We have electronic friends, but fail to make real friends, on phone, we utter "Hello" but fail to do so to our neighbor, we tend to laugh on the jokes in Wats app, but fail to even smile to a passerby, we tend to read morning messages, but fail to wish our own parents, we may visit many facebook profiles, but fail to invite a visitor into our house, we may join many groups online, but fail to meet physical beings in our own society, we are so familiar that we shed tears for the characters in the serials, but fail to even understand the problems of our own friends, the shouts and laugh of the kids which used to echo in the whole area are now restricted to their shelters. I feel the world has got smaller and we have got farther.

As I step into my apartment and look towards the darkening sky, I find bee hive which is stuck to the extended roof of our terrace. I stand alone, and they are together, I wonder, are humans still social beings. Every morning as I enter our terrace to pull in the fresh air into m craving lungs, the sky is beautified by a kit of pigeons, floating together in the moisturized air. I once again wonder, are humans still social beings.

Today, I feel social involvement is reduced to family involvement. To have some quality hours with our family seems to be difficult.  We are converting from social beings to family beings, future target assured to be self being. Living a life with domestic and financial completion seems to be success. We being gifted the valuable human life, is  this the only purpose, or we have to stretch for something more.  

Is the above mentioned routine and stressful life, the reason for our restricted thinking or our social involvement is the solution to lead a better life? This is the question we have to answer.

Nikhil Hulamani

99647 22970

Suspense

We live in the world of uncertainty, there is always an existence of suspense factor.

When I pen down my thoughts on this sheet of paper, I feel surprised to read the words which our mind imprints. Ocean of thoughts mixed together, we never know which wave of thought flows to the shore to visit us. Its a world of suspense.

Every drop of rain which leaves the sky is unsure of its destination, its the suspense to be revealed , but it is fearless to take the leap, shoot through the fierce air currents since the journey is as important as the destination.

Every new face on Earth pops out of the womb alone, no friends, companions, partners come along. During the course of our journey, many faces enter and exit our life, the entry pass or the reason of entry is a suspense.

The reason for our existence, is the journey made by millions of sperms to meet the Ovum, but only one succeeds, which one, is a suspense.

Schedules, reminders, alarms, to do list, are on our smart phones, systems, calendars, working tables but the way the incidents are stitched through our day is always a real suspense.

Life is like a book, it reveals itself as the pages of the book designs all new thoughts, it shapes our mind as the pages turn around. We can be sure where the book ends, but unsure where or when our life ends, its again a suspense.

Life, the source, the soul involuntary action for the existence of life on earth is respiration. Impossible to imagine if the act of taking breath is involuntary. " 50 deaths today, reason: humans forgot to breathe", how will we remember, we have forgotten to live. Sometimes I wonder " breath without life is better, or death without breath is better". Every breath gifts us a few seconds of life unsure of how we utilize it until it gifts us the final breath, the final few seconds in which we realize and judge our performance in the trillions and trillions of seconds gifted to us. In these final few seconds, we will be true to ourselves, happiness or sorrow is the destination of our journey.

Its very interesting to see humans in such fierce race with each other to create the best future which is unsure, a suspense. 

Its a Life by chance that we live. Every second we spend is gifted to us, we have to make the best utilization of the same. 

Lets not race so fast to create an unsure future that we forget to enjoy the few seconds that our involuntary action of breath gifts us.

Every current second is as important as future hour. Lets enjoy our present as future is still a suspense.     

Nikhil Hulamani

9964722970

Living the antedating

Walking the lonely roads, tracing the silent terrace, rolling in the silent outskirts of the city, waving through the shores of the lake in the breeze carrying the feel of silence, when we are with ourselves, when silence prevails regardless  the reality, thoughts of the past, present and future surround us, mixed emotions enamor us.

We wonder “ the present we are living in is perfect, could it have been better than what it is, could the mistakes in the past been eliminated, hope our past actions been more matured, wish we could have used the opportunity missed by a whisker, the relations broken in the past was unnecessary, the people with whom we got closely connected was necessary, are we satisfied with the present, are we happy or amazing actors of happiness, are we compromising shouting that we do not like to compromise, are we real, can we walk the past and better our present ??? Those minutes when we freeze with ourselves we are real.

The above flow of thoughts arise in our hearts when we face failures, when we stand at the position zero, when we fall from the heights to the lows, when challenges stand strong and negativity engulfs us, when confidence stands sick and fear builds up, when darkness spreads into our minds even when eyes wide open, when the vision is blur ,when we feel  bonded even in free space.

“Is it this fear of failure that makes us curse our past ?”Lets question ourselves. I am sure the answer is yes. Every winner loves his past and loser blames the same. We fail to understand the value of the past in our present, as we get busy blaming it than learning from it. Our past is a book of reference  on which we can build a better present, even if we are in a deepest well due to our past, we should always know that our past has trained us enough to touch the highest peaks. Past is learning, present is action, future is achievements of dreams.

It is a known fact that nature is Just, every living being on Earth is equal for the Nature. Every living creature faces a task that it can handle. If we settle in a Blame game, Life itself becomes a Big blame. History is the proof,that behind every grave failure hides humongous success. The creative genius Steve Jobs or the speaking magician Oprah Winfrey or any other inspiring persona have created history, because of their reaction to the Failures in their life. The above mentioned names never completed their formal education but were invited to inspire the outgoing Stanford minds.

The Mirror image of Life is Challenges. Lets shape our minds to face them. Past has to be the learning to implement in the present to beautify the future. 

Past is uncontrollable, future is unknown, present is in our hands, lets make it a memorable history.

-          Nikhil Hulamani

9964722970