On a dog day..

The beggar was nondescript. The usual sunken face, musty odor, dressed in rags, hand-to-tummy gesture and a wailing baby in her arm, who she would probably pinch more often than she would feed. And today she was the subject of Sarguru Swamigal's sudden philanthropy. He worked at the Perumal temple down the road, where she would be present everyday at noontimes sharp, for her portion of free thayirsadam. She'd try and meet his eyes hopefully, when he saw him on his way out after work, but all she would receive usually was a customary tightening of his facial muscles, an aversion of his eyes and a general expression of distaste. So you can hardly blame her for her being taken aback when she received a whole 10 Rupees from him. She almost dropped the note and the baby, and forgot to thank him altogether, before blessing him with a long life and hundreds of heirs and what not, as was customary. It was just what the doctor ordered to fill her stomach with food and her mind with faith

As bewildering as his sudden benevolence seemed to her, It definitely was not random. You see, that morning, he had come across a dog relieving himself on his new moped's front wheel. He kicked the dog and stoned it, expressing his opinions on its mother's promiscuity. And the memories of this incident would not leave his thoughts, however hard he tried. He didn't think much of God, heaven or hell. But he wanted to even out his karma.

You know, just in case.

A Daughter's Father

All her life, her father had taught her that men and women are born equal. That there was nothing that she couldnt do if she wanted to. He had been there for her as she struggled through adolescence, a face full of freckles and braces. He brought her up with strong women leaders as role models and examples. He rubbished his wife, her mother, when she objected that he was raising a son in his daughter. She grew up just like he wished : Strong, independent and self confident. She was capable of standing up for herself wherever she went. He was immensely proud of the way she had turned out.


And now he speaks into the telephone, softly, almost whispering, so she wont overhear. "Yes, sambandhi. Of course. I understand. I will take care of the wedding expenses. I will also inquire about booking the car. And I will send a few more pictures of her. Yes, I will make sure that there is one of her wearing shorts. And one of her in a sari. Of course. Thank you very much."

What's your Emergency?

Her heart pounded, and her head spun. Her eyes darkened, and she could feel the bile rising in her throat. Every muscle in her body was trembling. Her knees felt shaky. She could not imagine such a situation happening to anyone on earth, even though the daily fare on offer in the papers and television was terrorism thayirsadam, corruption kaarakozhambu and politics poriyal. And yet, here it was, happening to her. She looked up at the heavens and screamed (mentally) in anguish "What have I done to you, that you're doing this to me??" She could not bear to look at the chaos and destruction around her. And the noise! The screaming! It filled her ears, with a ringing sound. She could not hear anything else, it surrounded her, overwhelmed her.

And then her instinct for survival kicked in. She could feel herself calming down, and she sat down on something. She felt herself thinking rationally. What must one do now? She reached out for her phone. Trying not to notice the trembling of her fingers, trying to compose herself, she dialed her emergency number, as if by instinct, having no trouble remembering the digits even in the face of such a catastrophe. And as the phone rang, her heart slowed, and she took a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

"Hi da kannu! How are you? How's the baby?"

"Amma, Please leave tomorrow and come. I need you here. I can't manage her. She never stops crying. I have no idea why!!"

Another Short Story

The miracles of technology have brought the world to every man's pocket. Well, for the most part. So he thought, as he tapped his way across, feeling the world with his stick. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. And he heard a loud honk and screeching brakes as he accidentally stepped into the way of someone's speeding car. He thought nothing of it. A few more taps, and he could feel the pavement. With an almighty sigh, he heaved himself on to the pavement and reached his destination: The corner tea shop. On its wall hung a boon of the aforementioned technology, a pay telephone, by means of which he could talk to his only living relative, his son, a few hundred miles away in Dharmapuri. He lived on a measly pension, and had allocated 10 Rupees for this 10 minute call, all in shiny new 1 Rupee coins. He sought the help of someone whose presence he could feel nearby. Feel and smell. A strong smell of raw liquor. Nevertheless, a savior, he thought, as he handed the 10 coins to him, and gave him a wrinkled slip of paper, with his son's phone number, instructing him to dial the number on the slip. And dialed his savior did, but instead of handing him the receiver:

"Hello, Shanti? I'm feeling lonely tonight. Could you possibly be of any assistance? You know the place. Be there soon. I'll be waiting for you."

And before he could realize something was amiss, the smell of liquor had gone, and with it, his savior, and with his savior, the phone money.

Yes, You

You move around in herds and wreck the peace and quiet of restaurants, taking pictures and in general making a nuisance out of yourselves.

You make a hundredthousandbilliongazillion dollars a month the moment you step out of college.

You act like and think the world revolves around you, and that you sustain its rotation.

Your company drivers drive like they own the road and cut people off and run them off the road as well.

You get everything carte blanche, from houses on rent to girls' hands in marriage, the moment you tell people what your profession is.

You have driven the prices of everything sky high.

Yes, you, software injineers and IT probessonals.


And yet, can't you design a simple "interactive voice recognition system", that actually works?


Yes, I want to be able to bank through the internet with my bank account. And I want to be able to do it without having to answer questions like "How many grams of turmeric did your great grandmother add in her kathrika gothsu?" and "What was the name of the stray dog with the limp that lived in your great-great-grandfather's yard?"

I do not want to hear "You have exceeded the maximum number of tries" before I have tried even once.
What's more, I dont want to hear it when I am SETTING a password or a PIN code or a launch sequence or whatever else you call it. I cant possibly have been wrong when I am SETTING the password.

In fact, I dont want to hear it at all. Its a bloody computer recorded lady, you're not paying her anything for her time. On the contrary, I am paying for the time I spend on the telephone. I want to be able to try till I get it. Because you made it bloody complicated in the first place.

I do not want to spend a few hundred minutes on the telephones pressing various combinations of numbers before I can speak to one of your customer dont-really-care-but-i-need-this-for-a-living executives.Its easier to contact the President of India than to talk to somebody human on these call centre helplines. Who ends up being no good anyway, because he/she is invariably going to say "sir, the systems have a problem now, so we cant process your request/query"- A system that doesnt work is as good as no system at all.

Are you deliberately obtuse or are you just plain stupid?

You blithering idiots.