THE FORUMHUB SHORT STORY CONTEST 2006

[VENKIRAJA]

COME ON POST IN SOON,ONLY DAYS TO COUNT!

ATTENTION:RULES AND COMMENTS AT THE COMMENTS THREAD.

[chevy]

[tscii:e5ee000f95]A Grandson’s Story - entry 1

Even today at the age of 42, my childhood days are still fresh in my mind.

My father was an x-ray analyst in a chemical factory, which was located far away from the town. As I was the eldest son, my parents wanted me to be educated in a reputed school for which they decided to send me to the town. Being a good student ,the thought of good education delighted me ,but the thought of leaving behind my dear parents and siblings made me upset . What worried me more, was that my parents were going to put me in an English medium school .

Till class 5, I had been educated in Tamil , a sudden change would definitely affect my academic performance .By the time ,I could even ponder over this thought, I was put into the English school in the town .


My maternal grandmother lived in the town and I was to be brought up in her house till the end of my education. My grandmother, a widow even before I was born, was weak and I was expected not to trouble her. Since the day I had been put under her custody ,my childhood was quite uneventful but was charged with emotions ,the determination to achieve my ambitions and overcome challenges.


My first day at the English school depressed me. My parents came to drop me on the first day. They left me in school and I found my way to the class 5 building .I stood by the entrance to my class till the teacher noticed me. "Come in", he called .I didn’t understand him and the class roared with laughter .He translated the same in Tamil . The whole day I sat listening to the foreign language perceiving nothing what the teacher taught . My first few days were miserable .For many years I remained unproductive and valueless in my class and unsuccessful in academics .My persistent moans and pleadings to my parents to put me back in my old school, all ended in futility. For a good student, it is quite intolerable to do unsatisfactorily in school.


Life without my parents and my sisters was delinquent of exuberant charm and merriness. The town, new school, and life with my grandmother was much different .My new school exposed me as a weak student and I was determined to corroborate the contradiction.


Since this time, the rest of my childhood days were immersed in studies and hard work .The company of grandmother was filled with motherly affection but the communication between us was not much.

My grandmother would ask me everyday if I was studying well. Before every examination I would take her blessings in the customary way by paying obeisance and after I returned she would ask me how I had done the paper .Every morning she would grind rice on the traditional stone to make idli batter with which she would make fresh idlis for me. There was no grinder or mixer then. Anything that had to be ground or crushed had to be done so on a heavy , flat slab of stone . Till a few days before her death , she did this . For her age, it was noteworthy to do such tedious and tiresome work.


Our relationship was not in words or deeds , I was always into my studies and she would carry on with her mundane life . She was never there to help me in studies or even chat with me once in a while .Perhaps ,I assumed , she thought I had to concentrate in my work and the fact that she did not help me in my studies was simply because she couldn’t .


Sometimes I would stay awake late in the night to study for some forthcoming test assuming that she had gone to sleep .Surprisingly she would be sitting in the veranda with some book of ancient Tamil scriptures ,reading .Upon asking why she hadn’t yet gone to bed , she would say , ‘ Just incase you are sleepy and you want something to drink or eat’ . I had told several times to not to bother about me , but never had she gone by my request . ‘ I cannot help you in your studies , at least let me do this ’, She would say.


I continued to live with my grandmother even after schools and colleges came up in the place were my parents lived .By this time ,I had conquered the language of English and could now speak fluently and write easily without much effort . I registered myself in a local college for a Bachelor of Commerce degree which was affiliated to a state level university .To write the final exams I had to go to the examination center which was in another town. Just a few days before the finals , my grandmother became sick with mild fever . I left my town a day before the exams . The fever still persisted .I left the town fearing I would never see her again .


I did my exams brilliantly , or at least I thought I did . Immediately after finishing the exams ,I packed and traveled back to my town . My parents and my sisters and some of my other relatives were all present in the house. In the midst of all the people, my grandmother was lying on a mattress. Everyone wore a grave and poignant expression .


She was breathing her last few hours .On seeing me , my sister ran to tell her that I had come . With a slight gesture, my grandmother summoned me to her side .I went, sat next to her and took her hand in mine .Her eyes were opened only slightly. She said in a coarse and weak voice ,‘I knew you had come even before she told me . I had been waiting and struggling to carry on breathing only to see you .’ She closed her eyes and lay holding my hand . I didn’t know what to say .I didn’t know how to react. There was a silent communion amongst all our family members which we did not want to break with words .The whole house was prospering in deafening silence .Her head dropped slightly and we knew she was dead .


After the funeral , I was at home waiting for the results and learning some poignant and touching facts . A few days before her death my grandmother had been in very poor health ,much weaker than when I had left .A local doctor had told the family members that her pulse was slowly but steadily decreasing and that she would die soon .This fact was hidden from me so that it would not disturb me emotionally during the final exams .Five days before I came she was bedridden and couldn’t talk much .All she would ask is when I would arrive . She had raised me since I was about ten years .I was as good as one of her own children .Most of the time her eyes were closed and she lay breathing softly and probably waiting for me .My sister told me that in her last days she spoke little ,that too, only about me and about my arrival .When I came, she had opened her eyes and spoken for the first time in two days .She was probably waiting to see me desperately before she died .She probably wanted to see ‘her’ grandson .


I felt slightly guilty. She had been holding on to the sharp edge of life all for me ?The doctor was convinced her death was not very far .She had been struggling to stay alive just to see me, when she could have peacefully died in her sleep. I had always liked my grandmother though I hadn’t expressed it often.


There was still a lot of time for the results to be announced .I whiled away time in memories of her. Could a person actually hold on to life with the strength of mind to see their much loved ones? Even when death was lurking deeper into bodies, could they clutch onto their souls to keep them alive for a few days? It sounded too profound to me .I decided not to ponder over this thought too much .

A few months later , the results were announced .I had secured first rank in the university . The atmosphere in my house was as ebullient and joyous as on Diwali . In the midst of all the ecstasy and delight, I wondered how it would been if my grandmother was still alive . She would have died with the satisfaction that she had raised me well. I envisioned the innocent expression of happiness and a profound smile on her face filled with sheer joy and contentment.


Later on I did CA and passed with an all India rank .Even today I think of my childhood , my mind is filled with memories of my grandmother .Even today I wish she was alive .I wish she had seen my success and cherished it in her deepest reminiscences .



[/tscii:e5ee000f95]

[chevy]

[tscii:c9629716b6]Shocking Kismet - entry 2



It was getting late for office. I couldn't afford to waste time making up the bed or washing the dishes .Quickly, I ironed my clothes, got ready and ran out of the house.
In minutes I was on the main road .Unfortunately, for me I got stuck in a traffic jam .I wanted to be early so that I could review the presentation and speech I had to make that day .The traffic didn't move for several minutes .I grew tense and nervous for the presentation on one hand and was furious about the traffic on the other .The traffic annoyed me so much that I began to honk continuously .It was useless.
Looking around me ,I noticed that all the other drivers were also as impatient as me .Soon the traffic jam was so still that even a painter could have set up his boards and painted the ' permanently parked ' cars at his slowest pace .In the car on my right ,was a teen girl , probably driving to college .On my left was a lady with her child in school uniform .The lady wore a tense and impatient look .Her eyes frantically moved , searched and scanned the vicinity .Then with a hopeless sigh , she sat back and shut her eyes .Yes , I could understand her anguish . Her desperate attempt to get her child to school in time should be appreciated. But from my point of view, this isn’t necessary at all. If every day , every mother was to drop her child at school in the morning and bring back from school in the evening , just imagine the amount of traffic it would cause .Or just imagine the traffic it would reduce if the situation can avoided .Children can make use of school buses .Fifteen children in one bus saves more time ,fuel and space compared to the situation in which each of those fifteen go with the their parents .This not only saves more space on roads it also reduces pollution ,consumes less fuel and save money too .It will provide income to those school bus drivers .
It is no use of me thinking all this. The traffic still remained the same .I probably mentioned earlier about a teen girl on my right .A posh car, cell phone between her ear and shoulder, coloured nails and her stylish pose revealed her status, material comfort and affluence. She sat talking to someone on her mobile phone and chewing gum .I became cantankerous and got irritated. Everything around me was annoying me.
What is this, a road or a car park? I got out of my car, walked towards a policeman and asked him if any effort was taken to clear the traffic.
He answered, ‘The roads are blocked for the home minister to pass. His car must have broken down somewhere…’
‘Why can’t the home minister be in his home?’ I barked.
“Just a few minutes man!” he said.
A few other drivers were also getting out of their cars .The juice shop on the road side was enjoying a marvellous day of business .I began to relish the thought of a glass of chilled fruit juice on a hot and unlucky morning like this one .
I walked into the shop which was overflowing with people buzzing like a swarm of bees around a beehive .There wasn’t any place to sit but the juice shop was catering to the people who were standing also .I ordered for a glass of frosty citrus cordial and waited . Amidst the glaring sun rays and the hot gusts of smoke from the vehicles, I sweated awfully. My neatly ironed office shirt was soaked in sweat .I had waited for more than fifteen minutes and there wasn’t any sign of the juice I had ordered for .I cancelled my order and walked exasperated .
I walked back to my car .Just as I got inside the traffic slowly began to move .Within ten the traffic was moving smoothly .I reached my office in about twenty minutes .Without even going to my room , I hurried towards the conference room .I was shocked to find it empty .Was it over ? No it’s supposed to have begun only a few minutes back. I walked back to my recovering from the traumatic effect of both the traffic jam and the finding of the conference room empty.
I was very upset .I decided not waste time and began arranging my appointments and files to been seen through today. ‘I dare not go and see the boss now’ I told myself .I knew I was going to get the worst ever rebuke of my career. Suddenly my boss walked into my room. His face was grave and serious. I froze in my seat. I stood up and wished him the usual unintended good morning.
‘I’m sorry. I have some bad news for you’ he said,’we won’t be able to have the presentation today .I must ask you to prepare again for tomorrow’
I was surprised. ‘”It’s because’’ he continued ‘ the people from Softbank are going to be late anyway so they decided to postpone it for tomorrow. .I agreed. I thought it will give you more time to prepare , isn’t it? ’
‘Why are they going to be late?’ I asked.
‘They were caught in a traffic jam’.
[/tscii:c9629716b6]

[atomhouse]

THE OMEN


My first week at hostel was the longest one.I was new to college, hostel life and most of all to the city of Madurai.It is a old, very old city, a living specimen from the past with a temple around every corner.You can see a large mouch and broad vibhuthi smear in every second person.Undoubtedly it has very religious inhabitants.Thesun grins on your face very early in the morning in a startlingly blue cloudless sky.Our hostel is located in the outskirts of the city comfortably comouflaged in yellow painted residential houses.
At the end of the first day we got settled and even before we got introduced, the following five days were announced as holidays.And I happened to be one of the few people left in the hostel.That did'nt deter my excitement though.I retired happily with my book to the terrace, which is surrounded by Asoka trees chirrupping throughout the day.I confined to mybook most of the day and went down only for meals to the almost isolated mess.There would be a conference of the cook akkas and the 'snack' patti going on.They got used to my regular attendance at the mess and we got familiar.

And thus the first five days went on with me, myself and my book.The hostel started buzzing with everyone coming back.All my roommates came back from home with snacks and stories to share.I got so used to the empty building as my own big palace. I was feeling so much out of the place and it was as if they were trespassing into my place.I felt like floating in air with no proof of existence with my nerves numb.I was'nt feeling happy, sad or anything.I was just indifferent.
We then got along with each other effortlessly and started to move around together to mess and all.Even then there was a void I could not get over.Then came the first internal tests and the whole hostel was up all through the night.Students could be spoted everywhere in the terrace, staircase and near the hostel temple bending over their books.There was nervousness and anxiety in the air.The time-pieces alarmed at odd times in every other room.And as I took my book on the previous night, I was feeling strangely thoughtless.So,I went down to take my dinner.I got my plate outside and sat on the 'thinnai' in the open veranda leaning on a pillar.My roommate came and sat by my side.As I was slowly chewing my chappathi, she said something.I was pre-occupied with my thoughtlessness when she called me again and said,"Hey, just nod your head fastly..there's a lizard on your head".I swiftly moved my head before even I grasped what she said.Then an ugly lizard slided off my head in a parabolic trajectory.People around me freaked up and shrieked.I got cold and stood up.I went and emptied my plate on paatti's word.She got really nervous and looked at me pitifully.The cook akka was also sympathizing for me while my co-hostellers were swallowing their words, without knowing what to say.I was curiously happy about attracting sympathies this way though it was very silly.Actually, it is a superstition that if a lizard falls on a person's head he would die.The cook akka was saying to herself,"It must have only crawled onto the hair, it could not have fallen".I acted so cool and went back to study.

And the next day, I did my tests well.When I was coming back to my room, the paatti was telling the kitchen staff something in a hushed tone, pointing at me.They started staring at me as if I'm a ghost.I took my snack and walked away with a sense of victory.Having befriended yaman, no one is a stranger to me now.

[chevy]

[tscii:da1ac281d5]THE SPIDERMAN ON 29C


“Hey, can I leave? It takes about an hour to reach home and I’ll miss the bus if I don’t leave now….” I try explaining to a perfectly bemused lady in front of me.
It wasn’t an excuse to escape the lackluster woman I was supposed to be romancing with. Well, I had figured out hours ago that she became as uninterested as I and the whole thing turned out to be such a time-waste more than a flop. The excuse didn’t work well with the girl who has only traveled by luxury cars and has never tried a public bus in Chennai. It seemed obvious to both of us that we wanted to leave which we did, with an unintentional “see you later”. I smirk at her ignorance, prosperity and blush with embarrassment at my own mediocrity.

The bus stop was crowded as usual. A sick man had been lying there for week. I wonder if he was dead. Flies, mosquitoes and other insects , the names of which I don’t know, hovered over the body. I cover my nose with my hand and waited for the bus to Mylapore. I resist the urge to go and ask a group of girls standing in the stop if they had seen the 29C bus leave. One of the tube lights in the bus stop flickered and suddenly went off. An extremely crowded 41D came, stopped and left. Then came another 41D. Closely followed by another. I hope my 29C comes this often.

A group of girls giggle noisily and a nerdy guy is reading a book with the light of his mobile phone. I moved up to the guy and noticed “Income Tax” printed on the top of the book. “Must be a CA student”, I mutter under my breath. I shrug at his seriousness. People are too worried about their families, studies, careers, everything. “Survival of the Fittest” is most frequently discussed in the present day I suppose. Even Darwin himself must have not thought so much about it. The fittest gets the admission, gets the interview card, and gets the job and the gets the right partner. You’ve got to compete for everything these days.

Another group of college students hovered under the bus stop. I almost fell on the girl with the ID card. It’s frustrating when people push, pull and ram in motion when a bus comes. My heart rings an alarm when I see another group approaching the bus stop. I silently prayed they don’t want 29C.

An old, blind lady wanted to cross the street. She looked worn out. Maybe she’s a beggar. Anyhow I didn’t budge. What if my 29C came when I was at the other end of the road helping this oldie ? A strikingly pretty girl turned around to give me a disgusted look.
See how my image gets damaged? Now speak of survival of the fittest. How am I expected to run help an old lady and catch my bus, if it comes when I am at the other side of the road?

I can’t take this anymore. This population and the competition! I think the Earth is ruined with a new-fangled malady. A disease, rather. You know what disease I am talking about, yes; of course, it is the disease of too many mouths to feed. Now, let us think about the principal evils of our planet. The Earth has only one major problem: humans, and to be unambiguous, too many humans. Overpopulation is in my honest opinion, the most serious problem on earth. That, my friend, is reality! How many people are completely dispossessed – they live on earth, they are from Earth, but they possess not even one square millimeter of their home planet! This is a very mean catastrophe! How many don’t get to travel by their own bikes, cars or any other “own” vehicle? (Why are we talking about owning a vehicle, when owning a place of abode seems to be impossible? Do we need vehicles more than homes? Ironically, there are many people who own vehicles but not homes.)

Overpopulation leads to neck breaking competition, the depletion of essential non-renewable resources, destructive wars, pollution, acid rain, the depletion of the ozone layer, greenhouse effect, and the poisoning of Earth., erosion of soil, the annihilation of other living species and the destruction of important ecologies, the obliteration of the atmosphere, aberrant variations in weather patterns, the possible heating – or cooling – of the earth and the accompanying rise – or fall – in sea levels, nuclear waste, and so on. I can just go on forever.

This isn’t something I’ve started to worry about recently. When we were first taught about overpopulation, in fourth or fifth grade, I couldn’t get sleep that night, worrying if water would last till I die. Would there be water to drink or to shower? Would I have to die of thirst or stink? With over population will everyone get a job? Will there be jobs enough to employ me and my family and my friends and my neighbors and ……
Oh! There are just too many people. Okay, will there be a job at least for me? Will I be able to save money to buy myself a bike someday? Or would have all the oil resources and petrol been exhausted by the time I buy a bike?

The bus I am desperately waiting for comes and everyone at the bus stop dash for it. I run, but unable to hide my gentlemanliness I make way for all the ladies to get in. The conductor blows his whistle and I, having no other choice jump onboard. One foot is on the first step into the bus and the other foot is just hanging loose. There are another six people suspended to the bus like me. The bus is leaning to one side with all that weight. My hands clutch on to the bus window’s grill and the door. I realize those ladies for whom, I made way must be thinking what a “loser” I am. They are comfortably seated whilst I am hanging on like a Spiderman. Some girls think we are trying to impress them with our heroism. Please, do not confuse it with gentlemanliness! I still blame the overpopulation. Everyone is trying to impress their family, friends, bosses, colleagues and even strangers. Survival of the fittest, remember? So much so I can’t even live with good manners without being called as a “loser”.

Friends, face it. We now live in a world when a new baby is born, you worry about the resources it will need to grow up, survive and again, procreate. If it becomes unwell, it will perhaps require even more limited resources. Meanwhile it will worry about this overpopulation like me, who is standing (read as hanging) on a bus which has a capacity of thirty people but is now carrying more than fifty, while group of girls sit contentedly, perhaps even turn back (I hope), to look at this Spiderman who saved them from dangling for their lives on the footboard of 29C.
[/tscii:da1ac281d5]

[VENKIRAJA]

this one is actually from PRASANNA GOPAL,NOT MYSELF whose registration has not yet been activated.

entry # 5:THE KILLER.

Mark robinson was the best cop in the team.His colleagues rated him that there was no case that he couldn't solve.If he couldn't solve,then none could.He was presently handling a chain murder of 12 people in a row.It was one of the toughest cases he had seen.At the spot of the 12th murder,he was investigating the body for any evidence.The 12th one was similar to the 11th in many ways.In common,all were strangled to death,no sound,no blood.All of them were retired defense officials of the nation.The 12th murder took place in a cementary which even reporters were frightened to enter.When he was searching for clues,he found some blood stains on a tombstone.He took that as a sample.Not only that,he could see lot of stains along the path which was dark n densely crowded by plants.He started to follow the blood stains through the forest and it lead into another tombstone.He was curious to know what was under the grave.As it was 1 a.m it could make any person to shiver in that kind of a situation.He opened the grave,and as he expected there was no body but a tunnel.He enterd it.It was so dark that he didn't know where he was going.For half an hour he walked searching for an exit.Then he banged onto a door and it lead to the basement of an old abandoned coal mine.At first he could find nothing intersting,but a closet.This lead to a toilet.Not knowing what to do,hastily he opened the basin.There he could see what he expected(atleast that was normal).Then he flushed it,but no water did flow.He opened the flush tank and got the ultimate evidence he wanted.There was a book which contained names,addresses and phone numbers of the murdered.Upto eleven pages,X-marks were there and the 12th page had the recently murdered's photograph.Mark took a pen and crossed it too.Next page contained another photograph/address.He rang up to that number and said that"Sir!the cul;prit could be caught very soon sir.There was no clue that I could find,but.."It was his commissioner.It was the very same person whose photo was in the 13th page.Mark had done all this,who was one of the victims,sent as prisoners to other countries by the defence forces.He underwent tortures from age 5.

[VENKIRAJA]

ENTRY NO # 6
"KILLனு ஒரு காதல்."

என் காதல் யாழினிக்கு,
நலமில்லை தான்.நலமில்லாதவர்களைப்பற்றி அறிய ஆவலும் இல்லை தான்.நான் இதுவரை நெடிய மடல்கள் யாருக்கும் எழுதியதில்லை,இனி எழுதப் போவதும் இல்லை.நான் உன்னை அழைத்தது எல்லாவற்றையும் பேசுவதற்கு:ஒட்டுமொத்தமாக,ஒரேயடியாக.

நிறைய பெண்களைப் பார்த்திருக்கிறேன்,ஆனால் காதலித்ததெல்லாம் இல்லை.அவர்கள் அழகாயிருப்பார்கள்,ரசிப்பேன்.மலர்களே பார்ப்பதற்குத்தானே,நான் எந்த மலரையும் கசக்கவில்லை.சத்தியமாக.

"தேவதைகளை சந்தித்ததில்லை
என்று பொய் சொல்ல விரும்பவில்லை
வந்திருக்கிறார்கள்
வந்து வெறுமனே
வணக்கம் சொல்லிப் போய்விடுவார்கள்"
- மு.மேத்தா.

அன்றொரு நாள் என் நண்பனுக்காக காத்திருக்கையில் தான் ஒரு பூகம்பத்தை நேருக்கு நேராக சந்தித்தேன்.ஒரு மாதம் பின்தொடர்ந்து,உன் செருப்பு அளவு வரை கற்றறிந்தேன்.அப்புறம் நீ அடிக்கடி கவிதைப் புத்தகம் வாங்க வந்தது தெரிந்து,உனக்கொரு காதல் கவிதை புத்தகம் பரிசளித்தேன்.நன்றி பழனிபாரதிக்கு,அவரால் தான் நம் காதல்குழந்தை பிறந்தது.

"நான் தண்டவாளத்தில்
பூத்த பூ
நீ ரயிலில் வருகிறாயா?
நடந்து வருகிறாயா?"
- பழனிபாரதி

நீ நடந்து தான் வந்தாய்.ஊரெல்லாம் சுற்றினோம்.காதலை பருகினோம்,கொஞ்சம் கொஞ்சமாக ஸ்ட்ராவில்.கல்யாணம் பண்ணிக்கொண்டேம்,அலைபாயுதே ஸ்டைலில்.காதல் வளர்ந்து விரிந்த வெட்டிக்கதை பேசி பயாஸ்கோப் ஓட்ட விரும்பவில்லை,அவை பாவம்,இப்படி ஒரு அசம்பாவிதம் நடக்கவிருக்கிறது என்பதை உணராத அற்ப நொடிகள்.

"If you think
I love you!
You are wrong.
Its something more than that."

இந்த கவிதையை ஞாபகமிருக்கிறதா?ஆமாம் நான் வாசித்தது தான்.பாவம்,உனக்கும் எத்தனை நேரம் தான் காதலிக்க பிடிக்கும்?ஊடல் கொண்டாட ஆரம்பித்தாய்.நதியே நாஞ்சிலே என்று நான் சொன்னது எல்லாம் காதில் விழவில்லை.உன்னை சமாதானப்படுத்த நான் கொலம்பஸ்ஸாக வேண்டியிருந்தது.இருந்தாலும்,அமெரிக்கா நல்ல நாடுதான்.சருகுகள் சிந்தும் சிங்கார முற்றம் கொண்ட வீடொன்றை உனக்காக வடித்தேன்.அழகான பேஸ்மெண்ட்டில் காரை பார்க் செய்துவிட்டு பேசிக்கொண்டிருப்போமே...அடடா எத்தனை அழகான நாட்கள் அவை!மேன்ஹட்டன் ஸ்கைலைனை விட அழகாய் இருந்ததே நம் வாழ்க்கை.இருனூறு மைல் வேகத்தில் நாம் பயணித்ததெல்லாம் ஞாபகமிருக்கிறதா செல்லமே?பகலிலும் நான் நிலவுடன் பேசிவந்தேன்.ப்ச்.. எல்லாம் கானல் நீர்.

"அமாவாசையில் தான்
தோன்றுகிறது நிலவைப்பற்றி
கவிதை எழுத."

உன் மச்சங்களைப்போல இத்தகு சின்னசின்ன ஹைக்கூ கவிதைகள் கூட மிளிர்ந்தன பெண்ணே!நியுட்டனின் விதிகள் உடைத்து புவியீர்த்து விழவே இல்லை நம் காதல்.சில்லென்றே இருந்தது.ஆனால் எங்கே இடி விழுந்ததென எனக்கு இப்போதுதான் விளங்கியது சிநேகிதியே!நான் மும்முரமாக வேலை பார்க்கும் வேளைதான் நம் காதல் படகு விரிசல் விட்ட தருணம்.வெடி கையில் இருக்கிறது,வெடித்து விடும் என்று வீசியெறிந்தேன்,ஆனால் வெடி விழுந்ததோ என் காலடியில்.

"நீ மேல் உதடு
நான் கீழ் உதடு
நாம் மௌனமாகவே
பேசிக்கொள்வோம்"
-இரமேஷ் விஸ்வநாதன்.

இப்படித்தான் நாம் இருக்கிறோம் என்று நினைத்தேன்.ஆனால் உண்மை ஃபிக்ஷனை விட விசித்திரமானது என்பதனை கண்டுகொண்டேன்.முதலில் யாரோ தோழி வந்திருப்பதாகச் சொன்னய்.அதற்கப்புறம் ஒருமுறை தொலைபேசி மாதத்திற்கு இருபதினாயிரம் வந்ததும் தான் எனக்குள்ளிருந்த மிருகம் விழித்தது தலையணையே!மானே,நீ ஏன் கடித முனைகளையெல்லாம் படுக்கயறை ஓரமாக கத்தரித்திருந்தாயோ!நான் அறியேன்.ரகசிய ஈ-மெயில்களை ஏன் அனுப்பினாயோ!நான் அறியேன்.ஒருநாள் என் அலுவலக மேலாளர் வைகுந்தம் சென்ற காரணமாக எனக்கு விட்டிருந்த அரைநாள் விடுமுறையை லாஸ்-வேகாசில் செலவளிக்க நான் வர,வாழ்க்கை என்னை சூதாடிவிட்டது போ!சருகுகளை கிழித்துக்கொண்டு என் lambhorgini வந்து பேஸ்மெண்ட் அடைய,அங்கே ஒருவன்.நானும் நீயும் கதைத்துக்கொண்டிருந்த தோரணையில்.எனக்கு ஒன்றுமே யோசிக்கத் தோன்றவில்லை.அதீத ஆசை உன் மேல்.பூப்பறிக்க வந்தானோ கள்வன் என்றென்னி மூளை பையிலிருந்த துப்பாக்கி தோட்டாவை அந்த மடையனின் வாயில் ஊட்டியது.ரொம்ப சொங்கி போலிருக்கிறது.ஒரே குண்டு தான், சாய்ந்துவிட்டான்.அதற்கப்புறம் உன்னை நெருங்கினேன்.நீயாவது ஏதாவது சொல்லியிருக்கலாம்.அவன் உன் தோழியின் கணவன்,நம் வீட்டுக்கு உன்னை ட்ராப் செய்ய வந்திருக்கிறான், பின்னாடியே அவரது மனைவி வந்துகொண்டிருக்கிறாள் என.உனக்கு அறிவே கிடையாது.தோட்டத்தில் இருக்கவேண்டிய spade-ஐ அங்கு வைத்து தொலைத்திருந்தாய்,என் கைக்கு வாட்டமாக.உன் தலையை அப்படிப் பார்க்க எனக்கே ரொம்ப பாவமாக இருந்தது.

"இன்றோடு உன்னைப் பார்த்து
78 நாட்கள் ஆகின்றன
இன்றோடு நீ என்னை
78 முறை கொன்றிருக்கிறாய்"

அட,இரண்டு வருடங்களாயிற்று,இப்படி கவிதையெல்லாம் எழுதி.இப்போது என்ன புண்ணியம்,உன்னிடம் இந்த வரிகளை சிறையிலிருந்து நானும் சொல்லமுடியாது,சொர்ர்க்கத்திலிருந்து நியூயார்க் வந்து உன்னாலும் prison-pass வாங்கமுடியாது.ஆமாம்,உன்னிடமிருந்து விடுதலை வாங்குவதற்குள்,இங்கேயும் எனக்கு ஆயுள் தண்டனை தெரியுமா?.இப்படிக்கு கல்லறையில் அஞ்சல்பெட்டியைத்தேடும்,
ஒரு கொலைகாரக் காதலன்.

நெறியன்,
இரா.கு.வெங்கடேஷ்.

[VENKIRAJA]

THE FOLLOWING TALE IS NOT BY MYSELF,OF RUDHRA(M.ABILASH)

ENTRY NO #7:FINISHED.

Police cars raced through Smallville streets.Mrs.Stratford had heard the siren's sound.There had to be something very serious,she thought.Ofcourse it was.Mr.stratford was in his garage.Their thirteen year old son was playing in the backyard.Everyone looked out at the commotion.
A little later,an ambulance accompanied the police cars.Mr.Stratford came out of his dredging car's bannet.He was puzzled at the happenings.Police inspector Alex Ross and his assistant Austin were also puzzled at the same.
"Clean execution.No clues.No suspects",he said.
Beyond the police lines,a teenage girl's body laid static.
"She actually belongs to this area it seems.Some nasty guy had thrown her behind the woods",the crowd murmered.
"Austin...no traces of any molestation,huh?"
"No sir."
"Traces?"
"No."
"Even the clothes were not touched inspector,neatly pressed.The fatal strike was at the chest,probably with tied lips."
"Forensic reports?"
"First hand,no fingerprints at all.The assasin had managed to remain out of contact of the girl.The only contact could have been the knife.The weapon too.."
"What the hell?"
"Is missing."
"Very good."
"But,the doctors have confirmed that the murder was commited two hours before."
"What is the bloody time now? "
"Nine....Nine o' clock Anno Domini.Sir Mr.Vegas,a sheperd was the one who informed us,then."
"The killer must have not reached far.If thats true then this must be good time."
Even after investigating Vegas,Ross was unable to jump into any conclusions.no sound.No chasing.just a strike.The killer had executed it very cleverly.Finally he decided to make a first-hand enquiry.He noticed Mr.Stratford standing outside,staring at him.He moved towards him.He moved towards him.
"Are you residing in this area?"
"Yeah,you are standing in my portigo."
"Do you know anything about that murder?"
"Hmmm....that new girl.Well,she was actually living at the end of this street.I heard she was doing her college.Nobody here knows much about her.Is she dead now?Oh no,Ave maria."
"A first class murder Sir.Fishy."
"Fishes?Then,we have salmon and tea.Will you like to have?Christy get sir.."
"No thanks sir.Austin,lets move."
"Do you have anyone else with you at this beautiful house?"
" My wife Christina and my son Jimmy."
"Okay,if you get something suspiciuos into your earlobe,please inform us.Got it?"
"As an American citizen,I'll surely help Mr.Ross.Take care."
"Whats the matter dear?"
"Nothing Christy,a blacksheep had killed that new girl of the last building."
"Alright,get in.I don't want to mix up in this mess.Come on Jimmy"
"Yeah mom,I'll be there.",the youngster said.
He took a blood staing out of his overcoat,went to the backyard,washed the bloodstains and replaced the vegetable chopper back into the kitchen.He then took his college books and enterd his room.He could still remember how she spat him when he proposed.

[bingleguy]

Oh my GOD !


Coming up is Train number 166, Amtrak moving from Washington to Boston on track 1 , i repeat again Coming up is Train number 166, Amtrak moving from Washington to Boston on track 1 .....

Krithika picked up the announcement and grabs the ticket from the counter and slids her back pack while she hit a young man nearby ....

hey u lady ... watch ur back .....

excuse me .... so saying, she didnt even bother to turn back for his reply..... keeps running towards the steps .... she could hear the train entering the platform..... she runs with all her might .... and reaches on track 1 of the Metropark station. The time she reaches the track n the time the doors were opening, were the same ....

Krithika didnt have much time to search for a coach, she enters into the coach class .... and adjusting her back pack, she moved into the coach.... it was almost full and there was a seat on the left with a guy sitting on it, and the other one was on the far extreme, with no idea whos sitting near ... she takes her bag and keeps on the seat and looks at the wheatish desi boy sitting with his folded ...

Excuse me, is anybody coming ?

No, No ... he was a little enthusiastic ... which Krithika did not like ....

she adjusted her backpack and kept them on top ..... she then makes sure, she adjusts herself away from the smiling young lad ... she smiles n turns on to the other side, checking her handbag ... poor lad, he turns his face and continues reading his book .....

Krithika sees that lad everytime looking at her with side looks ... and when she turns, he turns down to his book .....

she closes her eyes ....... and falls asleep .....

the prolonged warmth woke her up ..... she getting a little worried about the young saw him folding his hands n the dining pad and covering his face ...

After a sigh ... .she looked thru the windows to see NY Penn station.... the train is now filled with the ongoing passengers leaving no place for Krithika again....


Hi ....
She was little amazed to hear that voice suddenly.... and looked at the desi boy ..... but he was still lying dwn .... she keeps her silence ...

am talking right ....

again she hears that and with a little hesitation says .... Hi in a feeble voice and turns her face ....

nee feel panradhu enakku puriyardhu ...

cold blood ran into her veins .... shaks, ivanukku eppadi naan thamizh nnu theriyum ..... she was thinking in her mind.....

i understand u very well .....

she really could not react to this ..... she just turns her face to the other window... a lady smiles at her, n she smiles back and turns facing the front ....

enna unakku pudichirukku dhaane ....

this is terrible ... she really could not believe wat she heard .....

ivvalavu pakkathula irukken, innum kovamaa .... love u honey .....

tats the limit ..... man ...... wat do u think of yourself .....?????? he voice starts to go up when many kind of turn to see wats happenning .... and by that time the lad lifts his head and turns towards her saying ..... hey ... just hold on .... ........ and removing the bluetooth from his left ear .... gave krithika a vague look....

Looking at the bluetooth .... Krithika was dumbstruck and she sinks back to her seat ..... kadavulae ........ ........... while the train keeps moving .....................


Submitted by : Bingleguy or Vasanth

[pavalamani pragasam]

[tscii:fdbc81be3e]¿øħ¾¡÷ Å£¨½

þÕ Å£ð¼¡Ã¢ý âý ºõÁò§¾¡Î ¦ÅÌ Å¢Á⨺¡¸ «ÅÇÐ ¿¢îºÂ¾¡÷ò¾õ ¿¼óÐ ÓÊó¾§À¡Ð «Åû º¢È¸ÊòÐ ÀÈìÌõ º¢Ú ÀȨŠ§À¡ø Ò¾¢Â Å¡É¢ø ¸¡Éõ À¡Ê ÀÈì¸ò ÐÅí¸¢½¡û.

ÀÊôÒ, ź¾¢, ¦¸ÇÃÅõ «¨Éò¾¢Öõ ¸îº¢¾Á¡¸ ¦À¡Õó¾¢Â «õºÁ¡É ºõÀó¾õ ±ýÚ °§Ã À¡Ã¡ðÊÂÐ.

¾¢ÕÁ½ò¾¢üÌ Óó¨¾Â º¢Ä Å¡Ãí¸Ç¢ø þÕÅÕõ ºó¾¢òÐ즸¡ûÇ ¦ÀâÂÅ÷¸û «ÛÁ¾¢ì¸¡Å¢ÊÛõ ¦¾¡¨Ä§Àº¢Â¢ø §Àº¢ì¦¸¡ûÇ ¾¨¼Â¢Õì¸Å¢ø¨Ä. «üÒ¾Á¡É ¦À¡ü¸¡Äõ «Ð. ¸¡ò¾¢Õó¾¡û Á½¢ÂÊì¸. ¿¡Ç¢ý ¦ÀÕõ¦À¡ØÐ §À§Ä ¸Æ¢ó¾Ð.

«Åý ¦ºøÄÁ¡ö º£ñ¼ «Åû ¦À¡ö¡ö º¢Ïí¸, «¼¼¡, ´ù¦Å¡Õ ¦¿¡ÊÔõ §¾ý ÐǢ¡ö ¾¢ò¾¢ò¾Ð. "ÂôÀ¡! ±ýÉÁ¡ö §À͸¢È¡÷!" «Åû ââò¾¡û «Åý º¡¸º §À§Ä, º¡¨¼ ¿¡¼¸ò¾¢§Ä. ÒâóÐõ Ò⡾Р§À¡ø ¿ÊôÀо¡ý ±ýÉÁ¡ö þɢ츢ÈÐ!

"¿¡¦ÉýÉ Å¡öìÌû Å¢Ã¨Ä Å¢ð¼¡ø ¸Êì¸ò ¦¾Ã¢Â¡¾ À¡ôÀ¡Å¡?" «Åû Áɾ¢üÌû ¦¸¡ì¸Ã¢ò¾¡û «ÅÉ¢¼õ «ôÀŢ¡ö ¿ÊòÐ ÓÊò¾ Ìà¸Äò¾¢ø. ÌÚÌÚôÒõ, ÌõÁ¡ÇÁ¡É ¸üÀ¨É¸Ùõ ¸ÉÅ¢Öõ ¦¾¡¼÷óÐ «Å¨Ç ͸Á¡¸ þõº¢ò¾É.

¸¡ò¾¢Õó¾ ¦À¡ýÉ¡Ùõ Åó¾Ð. §¸¡Ä¡¸ÄÁ¡ö ¾¢ÕÁ½õ. Áñ¼Àõ ¿¢¨Èó¾ ¯üÈ¡Õõ, ¿ñÀÕõ Å¡úò¾ ¾õÀ¾¢Â÷ ¬Â¢É÷.

«ÅÇÐ ¿¢÷ÁÄÁ¡É þ¾Â Å¡É¢ø, ӾĢÃ× ÓÊó¾ §À¡Ð, ´Õ ¸ÕõÒûÇ¢ §¾¡ýÈ¢ÂÐ. «Îò¾Îò¾ þÃ׸Ǣø ¸ÕõÒûÇ¢ ⾡¸Ã §Á¸í¸Ç¡ö ÅÇ÷óÐ ÒÂø þÊ Á¨Æ Åó¾Ð.

Á¡È¢ Á¡È¢ ¯ÈÅ¢É÷ Å£ðΠŢÕóиÙõ, ¦ÅÇ¢ä÷ À½í¸Ùõ, Å¢§º„ ¨ÅÀÅí¸ÙÁ¡ö À¸ø¸¦ÇøÄ¡õ ¯üº¡¸Á¡ö µÊ¾¢ø «Åû ¾¢¨¸ô¨ÀÔõ, «¾¢÷¨ÂÔõ ÁÈóÐ ¦À¡Ú¨Á ¸¡ò¾¡û.

ºó§¾¸í¸û, ºí¸¼í¸û ´Õ ¸ð¼ò¾¢ø Á¨ÈìÌõ ¿¢¨Ä¨Â ¾¡ñ¼¡Áø §À¡ÌÁ¡? ÀûÇ¢Â¨È §À¡÷ì¸ÇÁ¡ÉÐ. «Åû ¸ýÉí¸Ç¢ø ¿£÷째¡Äõ. ¸ñ¸Ç¢ø ²Á¡üÈò¾¢ý ÅÄ¢.

«¨È¢ý øº¢Âí¸û «õÀÄòÐìÌ Åó¾É. ÒÐÁ½ô¦Àñ½¡É Á¸Ç¢ý Ó¸ò¾¢Ä¢Õó¾ Å¡ð¼ò¾¢§Ä§Â, ²ì¸ò¾¢§Ä§Â ¦ÀüÈÅû ¬ÃõÀò¾¢§Ä§Â ÐøÄ¢ÂÁ¡ö ÀÊòÐÅ¢ð¼¡û ¿¢ÄÅÃò¨¾, ¿¼ó¾¨¾, ¿¼ì¸¡¾¨¾.

¦ºöžȢ¡Р¾¢¨¸ò¾É÷ «Åû ¦Àü§È¡÷. Áɾ¢§Ä§Â ÁÕ¸¢É÷. ݺ¸Á¡ö «Åý ¦Àü§È¡Ã¢¼õ ¬§Ä¡º¨É §¸ð¼§À¡Ð §ÁÖõ «¾¢÷.

«Å¨É Å¢ðÎ즸¡Îì¸ ¾Â¡Ã¡Â¢ø¨Ä ¾¡Â¡÷측â. À¢Ã¨É¨Â ¾¨Ä¸£Æ¡ö ÒÃðÊô §À¡ð¼¡û, «¨Ä¸¢È¡û ÁÕÁ¸û ±ý¦È¡Õ «Åô¦À¨à ܺ¡Áø Å£º¢.

Å¡÷ò¨¾¸û ¾ÊòÐ, ¨¸¸ÄôÀ¡¸¢, ¦¿Õí¸¢ÂÅ÷ ÀﺡÂòиû ÀÄÉ¢ýÈ¢.........ÁñÀ¡ñ¼õ ¯¨¼óÐ §À¡ÉÐ. Á½õ ÓÊò¾Ð ¿ñÀ÷¸û §À¡ø Å¡úžü¸¡?

Å¡÷ò¨¾¸û ¾ÊòÐ, ¨¸¸ÄôÀ¡¸¢, ¦¿Õí¸¢ÂÅ÷ ÀﺡÂòиû ÀÄÉ¢ýÈ¢.........ÁñÀ¡ñ¼õ ¯¨¼óÐ §À¡ÉÐ. Á½õ ÓÊò¾Ð ¿ñÀ÷¸û §À¡ø Å¡úžü¸¡?

«¾É¡¦ÄýÉ? §¿÷¦¸¡ñ¼ À¡÷¨ÅìÌõ, ¿¢Á¢÷ó¾ ¿ýɨ¼ìÌõ ÀƸ¢Â ¦Àñ½¢Éõ ¿¼ìÌõ Ò¾¢Â À¡¨¾Â¢ø §À¡¸ô §À¡¸ ÓðÒ¾÷¸û Á¨ÈóÐ, ¸¡Ã¢Õû ̨ÈóÐ, ÓòÐîͼ÷ §À¡ø ¿¢Ä¡¦Å¡Ç¢Â¢ø ¸Õò¦¾¡ÕÁ¢ò¾ ¸¡¾ÄÛ¼ý §¾¡§Ç¡Î §¾¡Ç¡¸ ¿¼óÐ ¿¢¨ÈÅ¡É þýÀõ ¸¡Ïõ ¸¡Äõ šáÁÄ¡ §À¡Ìõ?

Á£ðÎõ Å¢Ãø¸Ù측¸ ¸¡ò¾¢Õ츢ÈÐ ¿øħ¾¡÷ Å£¨½.






[/tscii:fdbc81be3e]

[madhu]

[tscii:12f5ae8615]¸¢Ã¢ÅÄõ
§¸¡Âõ§ÀÎ ¦ÅÇ¢ä÷ §ÀÕóÐ ¿¢¨ÄÂõ.

¦¿Ç¢óÐ ¦¿Ç¢óÐ ¿£ñÊÕó¾ Å⨺¨Âô À¡÷òÐ ÃÌ ¬îºÃ¢Âò¾¡ø Å¢Âó¾ÀÊ §¸ð¼¡ý.
"þó¾ ƒÉí¸ÙìÌ ±øÄ¡õ §ÅÈ §Å¨Ä§Â þø¨Ä¡.. ±ôÀÊ þùÅÇ× §À÷ ÅóÐ ¿¢ì¸¢È¡í¸?"
«ÅÛìÌ ÓýÉ¡ø ¿¢ýÚ ¦¸¡ñÊÕó¾ ¸ñ½ý º¢Ã¢ò¾ÀÊ ¾¢ÕõÀ¢ "þý¨ÉìÌ Üð¼õ ¸õÁ¢ ¦¾Ã¢ÔÁ¡?"
±ýÈ¡ý.

§¼¡ì¸ý Å¡í¸¢ì ¦¸¡ñÎ ±ìŠÀ¢ÃŠ ÀŠ…¢ø ²È¢ ¯ð¸¡÷ó¾ À¢ÈÌõ ÃÌ×ìÌ ¬îºÃ¢ÂôÀ¼ «§É¸
¸¡Ã½í¸û þÕó¾É.

" ¿¢ƒÁ¡¸§Å ¿£ «Êì¸Ê ¸¢Ã¢ÅÄõ Àò¾¢î ¦º¡øÄ¢ ±ÉìÌ ¬÷Åò¨¾ ãðÊ Å¢ð¼¡ö. «õÁ¡ §ÅÈ.. «ó¾ì ¸¡ÄòÐÄ §À¡Â¢Õ측í¸Ç¡õ.
õõõõ...°÷Ä ±øÄ¡ÕìÌõ Àì¾¢ ¿¢ƒÁ¡§Å «¾¢¸Á¡Â¢ÎîÍ §À¡Ä þÕìÌ. «í§¸ À¡Õ.. «ó¾ ¾¡ò¾¡×ìÌ ±ñÀÐ ÅÂÍ þÕìÌõ §À¡Ä þÕìÌ. Óý º£ðÄ þÕì¸È ¦À¡ñÏ ¿¢¨ÈÁ¡ºõ §À¡Äò ¦¾Ã¢ÔÐ.. °õ...".

«¾üÌû Óýº£ð ¦Àñ½¢ý ¸½Åý ´Õ ¦Àâ ¾ñ½£÷ À¡ð欀 ±ÎòÐ «ÅÇ¢¼õ ¦¸¡Îì¸, «Åû "±ýÉí¸.. ÁÈ측Á À¨É¦ÅøÄì ¸ðÊ Å¡í¸Ïõ. «ôÀʧ ÁÍ째¡òÐ «øÅ¡×õ §ÅÏõ" ±ýÈ¡û. "±øÄ¡õ Á¨Ä ÍòÐõ§À¡Ð Å¡í¸¢ò ¾§Ãý" ±ýÚ «Åý ¦º¡øÄ ÃÌ ¸ñ½¨É «÷ò¾ Ò‰ÊÔ¼ý À¡÷ò¾¡ý.

"±øÄ¡õ «í§¸ ¸¢¨¼ìÌõ ÃÌ.. '...

¿£ññññðð¼ À½ò¾¢ý§À¡Ð ÀŠ…¢Ä¢Õó¾ Àì¾÷¸û º¡ôÀ¢ð¼ Å¡¨ÆôÀÆò §¾¡ø¸Ùõ, °¾¢Å¢ð¼ §Å÷츼¨Äò §¾¡Ä¢Ôõ, ¸ÊòÐõ ¸Ê측ÁÖõ ÐôÀ¢Â ¾¢Ã¡ð¨º, º¡òÐìÌÊ Å¢¨¾¸Ùõ ÃÌ×ìÌ ¸Îô¨À ²üÈ¢ì ¦¸¡ñÊÕó¾É.

"«§¾¡ Á¨Ä ¦¾Ã¢ÔÐ À¡÷... " ¸ñ½ý ¦º¡ýɧÀ¡Ð ÃÌ ±¾¢÷ôÒÈ ¾¡ò¾¡ ±ôÀÊ Àø ¦ºð ¸ÆÄ¡Áø ¦ºïº¢Â¢ø Å¡í¸¢Â ÓÚì¨¸ì ¸Ê츢ȡ÷ ±ýÚ À¡÷òÐ즸¡ñÊÕó¾¡ý.

§¸¡ÌÄ¡‰¼Á¢ìÌ ¯ÕðÊô §À¡ð¼ º£¨¼¸û ±ñ¦½Â¢ø Å¢Æì ¸¡ò¾¢Õì¸¢È Á¡¾¢Ã¢ §¸¡Å¢ÖìÌ ¦ÅÇ¢§Â ²¸ôÀð¼ Üð¼õ.

"þôÀÊ ÅóÐ ÌŢﺡ ±ýÉ ¦ºöÂÈÐ ?«Ð¾¡ý ÀŠ ܼ ¦ÃñÎ ¸¢§Ä¡Á£ð¼÷ ¾ûÇ¢ ¿¢ìÌÐ.. ±ýÉ Üð¼§Á¡?" ÃÌÅ¢ý «í¸Ä¡öôÒìÌ Å¢¨¼Â¡¸ ¸ñ½ý "ÍÅ¡Á¢ ¾Ã¢ºÉõ ¦ºö §Å½¡õ. °÷ ¾¢ÕõÀ ¨¼õ ¬Â¢Îõ. þó¾ ¾¼¨Å ƒŠð ¸¢Ã¢ÅÄõ ÁðÎõ ¦ºöÂÄ¡õ. ±ýÉ ¦º¡øÈ£í¸" ±ýÈ¡ý.

¿ýÈ¡¸ þÕð¼ò ÐÅí¸¢Â À¢ýÁ¡¨Äô ¦À¡Ø¾¢ø Áí¸¢Â Å¡É¢ý À¢ýɽ¢Â¢ø ¦¾Ã¢ó¾ Á¨ÄÔõ §¸¡ÒÃÓõ ÁÉÐìÌû ±¨¾§Â¡ ¦ºö¾§À¡Ð.. "«ñ§½.. ¸üâÃõ Å¡í¸¢ðÎ §À¡í¸" ±ýÚõ ¦Á¡öò¾ ´Õ ¼ƒý ¦Àñ¸¨ÇÔõ Å¢Ä츢 ÅÄõ ¦ºöÂò ÐÅí¸¢Â§À¡Ð "ܼ§Å Å¡í¸. «ôÀÊ ´Õ §Å¨Ç Á¢Š ¬Â¢ð¼¡ ¦ºø§À¡ýÄ ÜôÀ¢ðÎ À¡Õí¸. º¢ìÉø ¸¢¨¼ì¸¡ðÊ ¸Å¨ÄôÀ¼ §Åñ¼¡õ. «Îò¾ «‰¼ Ä¢í¸õ ºýɾ¢ ±í§¸ þÕìÌýÛ §¸ðθ¢ðÎ «Ð Àì¸ò¾¢§Ä§Â þÕí¸" ±ýÚ ¸ñ½ý ¦º¡ýÉ¡ý.

ÃÌ ¸ñ½¨Éò ¾ÅÈ Å¢ðÎÅ¢ðÎò §¾¼ò ¾Â¡Ã¡¸ þø¨Ä ±ýÀ¾¡ø ´ðÊÂÀʧ ¿¼ó¾¡ý.

ÅÆ¢ ¦¿Î¸¢Öõ ±Š.À¢.À¢.Ôõ ¯ñ½¢¸¢Õ‰½Ûõ §À¡Š¼Ã¢ø º¢Ã¢òÐì ¦¸¡ñÎ «ñ½¡Á¨Ä¡¨Ã Å¢¾Å¢¾Á¡¸ô À¡Êì ¦¸¡ñÊÕó¾É÷.

Üð¼õ... Üð¼õ... Üð¼õ...

±ò¾¨É Å¢¾Á¡É ÁÉ¢¾÷¸û... «Å÷¸ÙìÌò¾¡ý ±ò¾¨É Å¢¾Á¡É ÌÃø¸û.... ÃÌÅ¢ý ¸ñ¸Ùõ ¸¡Ð¸Ùõ ¿ýÈ¡¸ò ¾¢ÈóÐ ¸¢¼ó¾É.

"±ýÉí§¸¡.. ºó¨¾ìÌ Åó¾£í¸Ç¡.. ¿õÁ §¾Åë÷ ¦À¡ý¨ÉÂý Á¡ð¨¼ Å¢ì¸ Åó¾¢Õ측ý. ¿¡Ûõ ÍõÁ¡ ܼ Åó§¾Ûí¸"

"You should complete that kailash yatra before fifty. ź¡É¡ «ôÒÈõ ¦Ã¡õÀ ¸‰¼Á¡ þÕìÌõ"

"§À¡É Å¡Ãõ Å¢ò¾ §„÷ ±øÄ¡ò¾¢Öõ ¦¸¡ïºõ Ä¡Àõ ÅóÐîÍ. But, «Îò¾ ÀôÇ¢ì þ‰äÄ ¿øÄ¡ «ûÇ¢¼Ïõ. þô§À¡ ¦ºý¦ºìŠ ¿øÄ¡ ²È¢ì¸¢ðÎ þÕìÌ"

"±ýɾ¡ý ÒÐÍ Òк¡ áÚ ¸¨¼ Åó¾¡Öõ ±í¸¡òÐÄ ¿¡í¸øÄ¡õ ±ôÀ×õ Ãí¸¡îº¡Ã¢Ä¾¡ñÊ Ò¼¨Å ±Îì¸ÈÐ ÅÆì¸õ"

þó¾¢Ã Ä¢í¸ò¾¢ø ¦¾¡¼í¸¢ º¢ÄÀÄ º¢Ú§¸¡Å¢ø¸Ç¢ý Å¡ºÄ¢§Ä§Â ¦¿Ã¢ºÄ¢ø º¢ì¸¢ ÀﺡÁ¢÷¾Á¡¸ Á¡È¢Â À¢ÈÌ "«§É¸Á¡ À¡¾¢ àÃõ ÅóÐ𧼡õ. ¸¡ø ÅÄ¢ì̾¡ ?" ±ýÈ ¸ñ½ÛìÌ À¾¢ø ¦º¡øÄ¡Áø À¡¨¾ µÃò¾¢ø Å⨺ Å⨺¡¸ ¿¢ýÈ ÁÉ¢¾÷¸¨Çô À¡÷òÐì ¦¸¡ñÊÕó¾ ÃÌ " ¿¡Ûõ «ô§À¡¾¢Ä¢Õó§¾ §¸ì¸ÏõÛ ¦¿Éî͸¢ðÎ þÕó§¾ý. ±ÐìÌ ±í§¸ À¡÷ò¾¡Öõ µÃÁ¡ þôÀÊ ìäÄ ¿¢ì¸¢È¡í¸" ±ýÈ¡ý ÃÌ.

" þí§¸ ¦Àª÷½Á¢ «ý¨ÉìÌ «ýɾ¡Éõ ¦ºöÅ¡í¸.. «¨¾ Å¡í¸ò¾¡ý"

¨¸Â¢ø þ¨ÄÔ¼ý Åó¾Å÷¸¨Ç ÃÌ ¯üÚô À¡÷ì¸ «¾¢ø ´ÕÅ÷ "þí§¸ þý¨ÉìÌ À¢Ã¢ïº¢¾¡í¸.. «Ê «ñ½¡Á¨Ä¢§Ä ÒÇ¢§Â¡¾¨Ã §À¡¼È¡í¸Ç¡õ" ±ýÈ¡÷.

"À¢Ã¢ïº¢ ±ýÈ¡ø Fried rice Á¡¾¢Ã¢" ±ýÚ ¸ñ½ý Å¢Çì¸õ ¦¸¡Îò¾¡ý.

"¸‰¼õ.. þÐ ±ýÉ Á¨Ä Íò¾È À¡¨¾Â¡ ? Food court §À¡Ä þÕìÌ" ÃÌ ¾¨Ä¢ø «ÊòÐì ¦¸¡ûÇ¡¾ ̨È.

«Ê«ñ½¡Á¨Ä¢ý §¸¡Å¢ø «Õ¸¢ø ¦¾Õ¦ÅøÄ¡õ ¿¢¨Èó¾¢Õó¾ ÌÆ¢ôÀ½¢Â¡Ãì ¸¨¼¸Ùõ, Å¡Ô Ä¢í¸ò¾¢ý «Õ¸¢ø ¸ñ¨½ô ÀÈ¢ìÌõ ¸¡Å¢ ¯¨¼Â¢ø ²Ø º×âìÌ §¾¨ÅÂ¡É «Ç× ƒ¼¡ÓÊÔ¼ý þÕó¾ º¡Á¢Â¡¨Ãô À¡÷ì¸ ¸¡òÐì ¦¸¡ñÊÕó¾ §¸¡ð,Ýð «½¢ó¾ ¦Àâöö ÁÉ¢¾÷¸Ç¢¼õ ¾É¢Â¡¸ô §À¡ö ¸¢Í¸¢Í §Àº¢Â º¡Á¢Â¡Ã¢ý ¯¾Å¢Â¡Ç÷¸Ùõ, ¾£À¡ÅÇ¢ìÌ Ó¾ø ¿¡û Á¡õÀÄõ Ãí¸É¡¾ý ¦¾Õ¨Å ¿¢¨É× ÀÎò¾¢Â À¡¨¾Ôõ Ą̃Š±í§¸¡ §ÅÚ ¯Ä¸ò¾¢ø ¿¼Á¡¼ ¨Åò¾É.

"ÃÌ.. þ§¾¡ ²Èį̀È ÓÊﺡîÍ. ²¾¡ÅÐ º¡ôÀ¢¼È£í¸Ç¡?" ¸ñ½ý §¸ð¼§À¡Ð ÃÌ «Õ¸¢Ä¢Õó¾ µð¼ø Å¡º¨Äô À¡÷òÐì ¦¸¡ñÊÕó¾¡ý. ÅÆ¢¦ÂøÄ¡õ «ýɾ¡É Å⨺¢ø ¿¢ýÚ Å¡í¸¢î º¡ôÀ¢ð¼ À¢ÈÌõ «§¾ º¢Ä ÁÉ¢¾÷¸û µð¼ÖìÌõ §À¡ö즸¡ñÎ þÕó¾¡÷¸û.

±ôÀÊ ÀŠ ²È¢É¡÷¸û ? ±ô§À¡Ð °ÕìÌ ÅóÐ §º÷ó¾¡÷¸û ? ±ÐקÁ ÃÌ×ìÌ ¿¢¨ÉÅ¢ø¨Ä.

«Îò¾ ¿¡û..

"²ñ¼¡ ÃÌ ! ±ôÀʼ¡ þÕó¾Ð ¸¢Ã¢À¢Ã¾‡¢½õ ? ±ÉìÌò¾¡ý ź¡îÍ. ¦Ã¡õÀ ÅÕ„õ ÓýÉ¡Ê §À¡ÉÐ..þô§À¡«ó¾ ®ŠÅÃ¨É ¾Ã¢ºÉõ ¦ºöÂì ¦¸¡ÎòÐ ¨Å츨Ä." «õÁ¡ §¸ð¼¡û

"«¼ ºÃ¢¾¡ý §À¡õÁ¡. ´Õò¾ÕìÌõ Àì¾¢§Â þø¨Ä. ±øÄ¡Õõ ±ýɧš À¢ìÉ¢ì §À¡¸¢È Á¡¾¢Ã¢ ÅóÐðÎô §À¡È¡í¸. «ù§Ç¡¾¡ý"

"«Å¡Çô Àò¾¢ ¿ÁìÌ ±ýɼ¡ ¸Å¨Ä ? ¿£ º¢Åº¢ÅýÛ Í§Ä¡¸õ ¦º¡øÄ¢ñÎ Íò¾¢ Åó§¾ þøĢ¡.. ? ¸ñÏõ ¸¡Ðõ ÁðÎÁ¢øÄ¡Á Áɺ¢§ÄÔõ ܼ Áò¾Ð ±øÄ¡ò¨¾Ôõ ¸Åɢ측Á ÍÅ¡Á¢¨Â ÁðÎõ ¦¿ÉîÍñÎ §À¡Èо¡ñ¼¡ôÀ¡ ¿¢ƒÁ¡É ôþ‡¢½õ. ¿£ «ôÀÊò¾¡§É §À¡§É ? "

«õÁ¡×ìÌ ÃÌÅ¡ø À¾¢ø ¦º¡øÄ ÓÊÂÅ¢ø¨Ä.[/tscii:12f5ae8615]

[pavalamani pragasam]

[tscii:de152bfd15]¿¢Å¡Ã½õ

þôÀÊ¦Â¡Õ þÊ Å¢Øõ ±ýÚ þÕÅÕõ ±¾¢÷À¡÷츧Å¢ø¨Ä. þÃ× ÓØì¸ ¯Èí¸¡Á§Ä ÁÉ ¯¨ÇîºøÀðÎ ÀÄ¢Öõ ¦¾¡¼÷ó¾Ð ¿Ã¸õ. Á£ñÎõ Á£ñÎõ «§¾ §Å¾¨Éî ÍÆÄ¢ø «Á¢úóÐ ¦Åó¾É÷.

ÌÖí¸¢ ÌÖí¸¢ «Ø¾Å¨Ç §¾üÈ ÅÆ¢ ¦¾Ã¢Â¡Áø ¸Äí¸¢Â ¸ñ¸Ù¼ý Å¢ð¼ò¨¾ ¦ÅÈ¢ò¾¡÷ «Å÷.

±øÄ¡§Á ÝýÂÁ¡ö §¾¡ýÈ¢ÂÐ ¾¢¨º ¦¾Ã¢Â¡¾ ¸¡ðÊø º¢ì¸¢ì¦¸¡ñ¼Ð §À¡ø ¾¢¨¸ôÀ¡ö þÕó¾Ð. ¯Ä¸õ Š¾õÀ¢òÐÅ¢ð¼Ð §À¡Ä þÕó¾Ð. º¢ò¾õ ¸Äí¸¢Å¢ð¼Ð §À¡Ä ´Õ ¯ì¸¢ÃÁ¡É ¯½÷× §¾¡ýÈ¢ÂÐ. ÜñÎìÌûÇ¢ÕóÐ ¾ôÀ¢ì¸ º¢È¨¸ «ÊòÐô §À¡Ã¡Îõ ÀȨÅ¢ý Áý¡ÅŠ¨¾. Å¢ü¨È À¢¨ºÔõ Å¢ò¾¢Â¡ºÁ¡É §Å¾¨É.

"±ýÉí¸, ¿õÁ ÌÆó¨¾... ¿õÁ ÌÆó¨¾..." ¸ñ½£Õ츢¨¼Â¢ø §Àº ¬ÃõÀ¢ò¾ÅÇ¡ø ¦¾¡¼Ã ÓÊÂÅ¢ø¨Ä. Á£ñÎõ ÌÖí¸¢É¡û.

"õ.. õ... õ..." «Åû §¾¡¨Ç ¬¾ÃÅ¡¸ ¾ðÊÂÅáÖõ §Å¦È¡ýÚõ §ÀºÓÊÂÅ¢ø¨Ä.

"Ó¾ø§Ä÷ó§¾ ±ÉìÌ ±ýɧš ̨È¡... ±ýÉý§É Òâ¡Á.... ÓûÇ¡ ¯Úò¾¢îº¢í¸," ´Õ ÓʧšΠ¦º¡øÄò ÐÅí¸¢É¡û. "º¡¾¡Ã½ Á¡Á¢Â¡÷ syndrome §À¡ÄýÛ ¿¢¨Éð§¼í¸."

"²ñÊ þýɢ츢 ¿ÁìÌ Åº¡¸¢ð¼¡Öõ ¿õÁ ÅÂ͸¡ÄòÐ »¡À¸¦ÁøÄ¡õ ÁÈ󾡧À¡Ìõ? ¸ø¡½Á¡É ÒÐÍÄ ¿¡Á ±ôÀÊ þÕ󧾡õ?"

"¬Á¡í¸, ±ÉìÌõ ´§Ã ¦¿Õ¼Ä¡ þÕó¾¢îº¢, ÀÊîº Àºí¸, þó¾ì¸¡ÄòÐ ¿¡¸Ã¢¸õ §À¡ÄýÛ ¿¢¨Éý. «ó¾ì¸¡ÄòÐľ¡ý Å£ðÎÄ ¦ÀâÂÅí¸ ÓýÉ¡Ê ¸ðÎôÀ¡Î Ó츢ÂÁ¡ þÕó¾¢îº¢. ¿õÁ ÌÆ󨾸 ;ó¾¢ÃÁ¡ þÕìÌõÀÊ¡ò¾¡§É ¿¡Á ¿¼óÐ츧ȡõ."

"Á¸ý¸¢ð¼ þ¾ ±ôÀÊÊ Å¡Âò¾¢ÈóÐ §Àº ÓÊÔõ? ÌÆó¾ Ó¸õ þէǡýÛ þÕ츢Ⱦ ±ýÉ¡Ä º¸¢îº¢ì¸ ÓÊ¡Á ¯ý¸¢ð¼Ôõ «É¡Åº¢ÂÁ¡ À£¾¢¨Â ¸¢ÇôÀ¡Á øº¢ÂÁ¡ «Øи¢ðÎÕó§¾ñÊ!"

"¦ÃñÎ §ÀÕõ §Å¨ÄìÌô §À¡È «ÖôÒýÛ ¿¢¨Éí¸. ¾¡ö ¸ñÏìÌ ¾ôÀ¡¾ º£ñ¼ø ´ýÛܼ þø§Äí¸! þôÀÊÔÁ¡ Âó¾¢ÃÁ¡ þÕì¸ÓÊÔõÛ §¾¡ÏîÍí¸."

"²§¾¡ °¼ø, ¬ÃõÀ ¸¡ÄòÐÄ adjust Àñ½¢ì¸¢È problem §À¡ÄýÛ ±ýÉ ¿¡§É ºÁ¡¾¡Éõ Àñ½¢ì¸ô À¡÷ò§¾ñÊ."

"¾¡Â¡ ¾¸ôÀÉ¡ ¿õÁ ¯½÷× ±ôÀÊí¸ ¾ôÀ¡ þÕì¸ ÓÊÔõ? ÒûÇ ¿¨¼À¢½Á¡ þÕ측ôÒÄ §¾¡ÏÉôÀ ¾¨Ä¢¼¡Á ±ôÀÊí¸ þÕì¸ ÓÊÔõ?"

"§¿òÐ «ÅÛìÌ ÁðÎõ Ä£×ýÛ Å£ðÎÄ þÕó¾ôÀ, ¸¢¼îº Å¡öôÀ ¿ØÅÅ¢¼¡Á, ¿¡Í측 ¬ÃõÀ¢î§ºý."

"ÌÆó¾ À¢ÊÌÎ츧Šþø¨Ä§Â!"

"Á¡È¢ Á¡È¢ ̨¼ïºÐÄ þÉ¢ Á¨ÈîÍ À¢Ã§Â¡ƒÉÁ¢ø§ÄýÛ ÁÉÍ À¡Ãò¾ þÈ츢 Å𼡧ÉÊ!"

"ÀûǢ¢ÄÔõ ¸¡§Äƒ¢ÄÔõ ±ò¾¨É ¦Á¼ø! ±ò¾¨É À¡Ã¡ðÎ! ±ùÅÇ× ¦Àâ À¾Å¢ þó¾ º¢ýÉ Åº¢Ä! ¸¨¼º¢Ä ¦º¡ó¾ Å¡úì¨¸Ä §¾¡òÐð¼¡§É ¿õÁ ¾í¸õ!"

"¿¡Á ÅÇò¾ ÌÆó¾ ´Øì¸òÐÄÔõ, Á⡨¾Â¢ÄÔõ ±ô§À÷ôÀð¼ ¦ƒõ! «ÅÛìÌ þôÀÊ¦Â¡Õ Å¢¾¢Â¡?"

" '¦¾¡¼¡§¾'ýÛ «ó¾ ¯ò¾Á¨Éô§À¡ö ¸¢Ã¡¾¸¢ ¦º¡øÖÅ¡§Ç¡?"

"¦Àñ¼¡ðÊ «ý¨É¡ ŽíÌÈ «Å¾¡Ã ÒÕ„¨É¡ Á¸É¡ ¦ÀòÐÕ째¡õ?"

"¸¡¾ø ¸ò¾¢Ã¢ì¸¡öìÌ «Å§Ç¡¼ §¾¡ôÀÉ¡÷ Áº¢Â§ÄýÉÐìÌõ, Á¢ÃðÊ ¿õÁ ÌÆó¨¾ìÌ ¸ðÊÅîºÐìÌõ þôÀÊ¡ ÀƢšíÌÅ¡ À¡¾¸¢?" «Ê Å¢üȢĢÕóÐ º£È¢É¡û.

"þ¦¾øÄ¡õ ¿ÁìÌ Óýɡʧ ¦¾Ã¢Â¡Á §À¡î§ºÊ! þýÛõ ¿øÄ¡ Å¢º¡Ã¢ì¸¡Á Å¢ðÎ𧼡§ÁÊ!" ¾¨Ä¢ø «ÊòÐì ¦¸¡ñÎ «Ø¨¸Â¢ø ÌÖí¸¢É¡÷.

"Àƺ ÁÈ측Á ±Å§É¡ ÀÆ¢¸¡Ã§É¡¼ §À¡ð§¼¡Å À÷Š§Ä§Â Å¸¢ðÎ «¨ÄÔÈ À¡¾¸ò¾¢ìÌ Òò¾¢ ÅÕõÛ ¿õÁ ÌÆó¾ ²í¸ þÄ× ¸¡ì¸Ïõ?" ¦Àò¾ ÁÉõ ¦À¡ÚÁ¢ÂÐ.

"§¾¡ôÀÉ¡¨Ã Á¾¢ì¸Ä, ÒÕ„ÛìÌ «¼í¸Ä, Á¡Áý Á¡Á¢Â ¿¢¨Éì¸Ä, þÅÙìÌ Òò¾¢ ¦º¡øÈÐõ ¸øÖÄ ¿¡÷ ¯Ã¢ì¸¢ÈÐõ ´ýÛ¾¡ý!" ¬ÆÁ¡É ÅÕò¾õ «Å÷ ÌÃÄ¢ø.

"þùÅÇ× «Øò¾Á¡, «Æ¢îº¡ðÊÂÁ¡ ´Õ ¦À¡ñÌÆó¾ ¿¼óÐì¸ ÓÊÔõÛ ±ýÉ¡Ä ¿õÀ§Å ÓÊÂÄ£í¸! ¾¡Ä¢Â §¸Ä¢ìÜò¾¡ì¸¢ð¼¡§Ç!" ¬üÈ ÓÊ¡Áø «Åû.

"°ÃìÜðÊ Å¢Á⨺¡ ¸ø¡½õ Àñ½¢ÅîºÐìÌ ÀÄý þо¡É¡Ê?" º£È¢É¡÷.

"²í¸ ºó¾¢ º¢Ã¢ìÌõÛ Üºò¾¡ý ¦ºöÔÐ. «Ð측¸ ¾ôÒ ¦ºö¡¾ ¿ÁìÌ, ¿õÁ ÌÆó¨¾ìÌ ¿¢Â¡Âõ ¸¢¨¼ì¸ §Åñ¼¡Á¡?" ¾£÷Á¡ÉÁ¡¸ §¸ð¼¡û.

"¬Á¡. ¿¡Ûõ «¨¾§Â¾¡ý ¿¢¨Éý. ±Ð «º¢í¸õ, ±Ð «¦¸ÇÃÅõ, ±Ð «¿¢Â¡ÂõÛ ´Õ ŢŊ¨¾§Â þøÄ¡Á ¸Ä¢ Óò¾¢ðÊÕìÌ. ¿õÁ ÌÆó¨¾ìÌ ¿¡Á âðÊÉ ¾¨Ç ¿¡Á¾¡ý ¦ÅðÊÅ¢¼Ïõ." ÓÊ× ¦ºöÐÅ¢ð¼¡÷.

"¯ûÙìÌû§Ç§Â ÁÕ¸¢ ¯Õį̀Äﺢ §À¡ö¸¢ðÊÕì¸¢È ¿õÁ ÌÆó¨¾ìÌ þÉ¢Ôõ ¾¡Á¾¢ì¸¡Á ¿¡Á ¯¾Å¢ ¦ºöÂÏí¸." ¾¡ÔûÇõ ¯Õ¸¢ÂÐ

"¿¡Á ¦¾Ã¢Â¡Á ¦ºïº À¡ÅòÐìÌ À⸡Ãõ þÕìÌ. ¿õÁ «Æ¸¡É, ¬Éó¾Á¡É ÌÎõÀò¾ ¬ðÊ ¨Åì¸¢È þó¾ Å¢ÀòÐìÌ ¿¢Å¡Ã½õ §¾Î§Å¡õ." ¦¾Ç¢× À¢Èó¾Ð.
[/tscii:de152bfd15]

[VENKIRAJA]

a grace time of a day is provided again.polling however will go on from now.jan 1,12.00 past meridian is the corrected deadline.story-tellers rush please/let the moderators do the help for editing the polls once again.

[madhu]

Hi venki !

Am I eligible to caste a vote here ? :froggrin:

[VENKIRAJA]

of course yes,but waittill any mods repair the poll options,my PC gave in stupidly.

sorry,the case of this thread is very critical.maybe,lets discuss in the comments thread better

[madhu]

:(

[crazy]

:roll: how am i supposed cast my vote here?

[VENKIRAJA]

i wish u dont cast any.the poll is faulterd,i cant edit it,nor do the mods.wait till any amendment or make a request to them.talk in the comments thread further.

[Prasanna]

I cant see the msg i sent 4m the mobile when im browsin in the pc. :evil: :xhey shorty, the private msg what i sent to u has reached, but the posts i gave 2 the forum have become nullified. is it the problem of the moble or is it the forum. but i can still browse it.

[Prasanna]

venky, enna koduma idhu saravanan.
you are the one who told me about the hub and my admission date is earlier than yours :?: :wink: :confused2: :poke:

[Wibha]

venky, enna koduma idhu saravanan.
you are the one who told me about the hub and my admission date is earlier than yours :?: :wink: :confused2: :poke:

:rotfl: