INERTIA

One day a five hundred rupee-note, the only one, flew out of my purse. I watched it fluttering in the wind, before being mauled terribly, by a car worth much more.
Another day I saw a man on the rails of a bridge. His coat and bag were lying by the rails. I saw him spread his hands out like wings and unaware of my presence he jumped. The river beneath drank him in a second.
Yesterday I was reading a book. I saw my phone ringing. It was my friend calling to say goodbye. I watched it ring until it stopped. Silence. It started ringing again. She would have tried at least 15 times, until the phone ran out of battery. I watched the call die.Now it is afternoon. I stand lost in the middle of the road. There is a truck coming towards me. As I write this, I can see it getting bigger.

Every person is a book, most of the time unpublished and sometimes hidden in a diary.

Jean Val Jean

"One kilo Atta in three days! It is impossible that it would get over so fast." Both of us called our moms up and confirmed it. Yes, it is impossible. We just went on talking. After two days of discussion we decided to talk to Raviji, the housekeeper at the Chennai guest house. But before we asked him anything, he said "My calculation went wrong. It is my mistake!" Seems like he had overheard us. Yes, one kilo Atta is not much. But he can't steal.

Really? Can't he?

Why should he? He lives in a luxurious house though he does not own it. He has a set-top box, a luxury which very few in Chennai have. Though he is supposed to keep the house clean he never does it. So basically he was having the time of his life.

But won't he have desires too? We are not Mahatmajis. We don't lead a simple life. Why should he?

After all that, he continued making food for us.

Yesterday, I heard he is sacked! Not for the Atta. But for some other big thing. He cheated the company, used their phone to make calls to Orissa and kept mum about it.

I do feel terrible and hope that he will get another job soon. But that's not it. Our attitude! Mine and the company's! It is ruthless! Is it a crime if a poor man enjoys the good things in life? Yeah I wrote a blog! I will forget about it! Until a naxalite wakes me up in my sleep with a knife pointed against my throat.

God! Can't we all do something about ourselves? I can. Can you?

I am hungry. But I will eat later. I can see too much red in the curry. Dal looks okay if it were not for the onions. Jam is sweet. So are chocolates, yew! I can’t stand anything with chillies; no Rasam please. I hate potatoes. Clear sparkling water?... mmm... mmm... :) delicious! But what if it kills my hunger? I still am very hungry.

HITLER WAS AN INDIAN

Latest research shows that Hitler was born in New Delhi. Later his parents shifted to Lahore. You do not believe me? I swear by the name of every God I know, my mother, my father, my children to be born, my homeland and myself. It is completely untrue. But you believed it, didn’t you? At least you believed it enough to question it.
But you believed bigger lies. When they branded Hitler a powerful leader. When he was used as an excuse to lash out on Jews. When they called India a democratic country. Time for some truth. “Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your History Book Got Wrong” says a book which an American wrote about the American History. I don't want you to believe them though.

I am a very talented conversationalist. I need only three expressions to keep the conversation going “Huh?” “Yea!” and “I don’t know.”