Theoretically I knew who the killer was.....

It had been two months since Professor Mansen had been murdered. I had been hired by the dean to solve the case quickly and quietly. The dean knew people would open up to me more so than the police. Other than my obvious charm the fact was I knew of everyone who was part of the murder investigation.

I had solved the case days ago but had been collecting enough information to back my theory. So the night I finally revealed the mystery behind the killer’s identity, which by chance happened to be 06.06.2006, I invited all the suspects to dinner at the deans house. The guest list included- Professor Mansons wife Svetlana, Professor Mansons mistress – Jennette, two graduate students working under him Xing and Chandramouli and the janitor Odumbe. I also requested the presence of the police chief – Ohara.

The environment was set. Dinner started with soup and crumpets. The deans wife was a great hostess taking good care to lighten the environment which felt like an icy edge.
We got through dessert a good 45 minutes later. I got up with a glass of wine in my hand and said, “This is not a toast and each of you in this room wernt invited to pass on condolences. We have a killer in this room and in 25 minutes all of us will know his identity”, I could see sweat percolating down brows of 5 faces, I was starting to enjoy myself.

I continued, “ Each of you had a motive didn’t you..” that wasn’t a question..” Xing, Professor Manson stole all of your work on nano particle paint fabrication under the threat of deportation did he not..” again not a question.. “ all of three years of real path breaking research down the drain .. tell me Xing was that not motive enough?” you could call this a question but the I knew he was not the killer. Xing responded ” I not …kill nobody..”. Self.” I know that Xing but it till is a strong motive a strong enough motive for you yourself to become a blackmailer. You had been blackmailing Chandramouli haven’t you..” definitely not a question. Xing remained quiet. “ Which brings me to you Chandramouli..Xing was blackmailing you about your affair with Svetlana hasn’t he..” a gasp escaped from the 40 year old blondes lips and all that Chandramouli did was stutter.
“ but what Xing and chandroamouli did not know is that it was Professor Manson who introduced the duo.. it was his master plan of getting rid of his wife..” I looked around as my audience is rapt in attention..” But then to me Chandramouli is to much of a sissy to be a killer cant even last 2 minutes can he Svetlana..” I could see her blush..” that brings me to you Jennette ,, sweet innocent Jennete .. How did the Professor win you over ? was it with his poetic skills?.. was this the verse that won you over in the bar 4 months ago

O Jennette
Sweet Jennette

A female divinity
My passions exceed
Pie r^2 [infinity]" [read as to the times infinity]

Jennette gasped” how did you come across that..” Chandramouli could not resist saying,” but that is meaningless how could anyone fall for the .. anybody can tell that unless ‘r’ is defined its stupid..” I smiled..” well we need to give some kind of poetic licence I assume.. but then Jennette you did not know of Professor Mansons necrophilic gay activities till he invited you a couple of weeks before his death to a session did you..” I paused here and looked at Odumbe the 60 year old Odumbe.. I wanted to note the expression on his face for I knew Jennette wasn’t the killer.. I could hear Jennette sniffling.. I had been harsh but then I had no other choice..” which brings me to reveal the identity of the killer Mr.Odumbe.. “ everybody turned surprised to the janitor not talked of through the night wondering why the hell he was here.. all but Jannette who continued sniffling. I continued “ Mr. Odumbe planned this out meticulously.. he knew that Professor Manson was training to run for the marathon. For this during each of his long runs on a Saturday the Professor would leave his keys in his mailbox except for the department main door keys which he would stuff into his secret pocket of his running shorts. Odumbe had been watching him for an opputunity over 12 weeks prior to his successful attempt at murdering the Professor. He then took the professors keys and accesed his nano particle lab and added a pure layer of arsenic to the bottom of the professors coffee mug.. Odumbe tried to remain calm,” what motive did I hav “ dick” I mean “Private Detective” ..” I smiled an evil smile” simple my dear Watson” I hammed ..” I know that you were his gay partner for several years were you not and you were that guy whom..” I looked at Jannette’s face., her beautiful face, she was sobbing now..” you also aided him in his disgusting pedophilic activities by inviting innocent young African immigrants .. did you not !!” I shouted my eyes red.. Odumbe broke down crying like a baby ..” you just coudnt stand the fact that he was drifting away from you to Jannette could you”.. the police chief stunned at first called in the constable to take odumbe into custody.. everybody was still in shock.. I comforted Jennete.. I told her that I still had feelings for her and apoligised for putting her through this trauma.. she smiled at me for the first time that night.

As I sat beside Odumbe during the ride to the police station.. he looked at me and whispered..” I did not kill him you know” .. I looked at him and smiled..” I know you sick fuck .. because I did…………” Jennete was just too important to me…………

......................................................................................................................................................

Missing the blue yonder
Is like missing all of thee
Hope this isn’t the last that I
See of all of thee

Years from now
When we are all older.. Matured
All I hope is that we remember
Each of the good times we had together
For these are the times that helped shape my mind
Attributed to a growth that I cannot forget

Experiences in life I might have had galore
But none shall I cherish as much as the last couple of years
Sappy that this might sound
That is how I feel and so I tell

The future seems bright for all of thee
But all I wish is that we can get back together
Someday not so far as the blue yonder seems
Fighting over petty things like who’s gonna drive
Or if festivals have a meaning back home in India
Laughing together at each others weak points
Making ourselves stronger as a whole.

Ppl I wish you all the best
Hope you shine as crazy as a diamond
Do your selves proud and as in ET’s last words
Beeee Goood and in mine keep in touch

The One eyed Pinata

As he stood by the piñata
Not realizing it to be a target
A foolish boy of seven
Ignorous of the fact that
A blindfolded birthday rat
Approached him tither

A strike in the side of the head
Spelled doom to the little boy
For from that day on
He came to be known …as
The one eyed piñata

A lonely boy at fourteen
Did he pick up his first bow
Realizing a destiny
For he would now come to be known
As the greatest most accurate archer that lived
The one eyed piñata

The king soon heard of his prowess
The one eyed piñata’s fame had spread
Summoned him soon to his court
And ordered him to join his special aide
With his new and shiny title
The one eyed assasin

Wise men said it had been a boon that
The little boy years ago
Had traded an eye for his heightened sense of accuracy
But to him twas still a burden
For he did not like killing
The innocent for the black king

As he journeyed through the forest
In search of a one eyed monster
That the king had heard of
And demanded for his amusement
He came upon a stream as beautiful as could be

By the banks he sat to ponder
Why was he not brave enough to end it all
Was he scared of the almighty
Or was this really his destiny
All the bloodshed and apparent sycophancy that is

That was when he saw
A beautiful girl with a pot
Little did he realize
Her half burnt face had made her an outcast
For all that his one good eye could see
Was the half that was not

He was instantly in love
But having no confidence in himself
He started to slither away
Hoping not to be heard or seen
When he heard her cry out thee

He could not stand the tears pour down her cheeks
He leapt up and went to thee
Why do you cry oh fair maiden
Let the one eyed assassin solve thy problem

She looked at him in awe
And said meekly.. it is you that makes me cry
The way you slithered upon gazing my ugly face
I have borne such a fate since that fateful day
When in saving my little sister from a fire
Did my face did my face..

And thus breaking down
To much the amazement of the one eyed assassin
Did she start crying again
The assassin twisted his head all the way
Even then all he could see was traces of what she talked of
He told her so through his heart
Making her happy as a tot


It was then he relised
Destiny and fate had played no trick upon him
Here he had come across
A tortured soul as himself
But in each other they could find a happiness
That not could be found in the house
Of the greatest kings and queens

Diarios de Bicycleta..

Stuck in an office in front of my laptop for hours together suffocation was a given. I had a getaway planned. Stealing Su’s bike for the day seemed now to be a brilliant master plan. Something V said earlier in the day made me want to bike along the Mississippi. So I took (not to be confused with the clan of hobbits) the cycle and headed out on the biking trail. It’s been ages since I biked to be precise not since high school. As I went down a slope I remembered the child in me feeling thrilled as the air caressed my face and gave me such pleasure that has been missing from my mundane life. I remembered the promise I had made to myself looking at adults all around years ago that I would never grow up. Never be responsible ever! But the last two years have seen those promises forgotten and put me in situations which have forced me to grow up and not remember any of those promises of what I wanted from life. I did not even realize that I had grown up till that air talked sense into me.

Going back a long way I remember now how I learnt to cycle. My dad did not have the time to teach me and since we lived in apartment complexes in the heart of cities throughout my childhood getting a cycle had the same chances as Morarji Desai getting up in the morning and forgetting to drink his pee. So during my summer vacations when we migrated south to visit my grandparents I convinced my grandpa to rent me a bike and get one of his “fans” to teach me to bike. Four days of efforts bore fruit and I was able to bike the year I went into my fourth grade. It wasn’t till my dad got a job in Coimbatore that I got my first bike- a Hercules MTB. Coimbatore wasn’t a very metropolitan hugely populated city and for the first time we were in an independent house. I took great care of it and formed my own biking gang that terrorized the streets of Coimatore- the 7th grade punks. The year I went into my 8th grade did not start that well. My bike got stolen when I was “holidaying” in Puddukottai with my grandparents. I had to walk to school to my horror (it took me 5 whole minutes instead of 2…a kid can take only that much!). I started pestering my dad to get me another cycle. The rage was the Hercules ( don’t remember the name but it had shock absorbers in the front and on the back) that was priced at 2000 buckaroos. I started,subtly, brainwashing my dad into buying that for me. My dad had just been laid of then and I used to find my mom crying a lot everyday when I got back home in the “Swamyroom..( I seriously thought my dad was terminally ill or something.. Moms!!). And for the first time in my life that I can remember I found dad traveling by bus. Things were looking bleak. But all that was on my mind was the cycle. Somehow I did not get the gravity of the situation and was secure that mom and dad will take care of things (other than my moms unexplained crying they never let me feel something was amiss.. Parents!!). Anyways after two months of pestering I got to go to the street of cycle shops (this place is famous in Coimbatore.. my memory of names ….)
And I compromised on the Hercules Rockshox ( with the shock absorbers only in the front !!) and I cycled back on it 5 miles to save on the costs of the autorickshaw. She was my partner in crime for the next five years.

We moved to Chennai later that year with my dad back in business after 6 months and here I found a new partner in crime both for me and my cycle. Ant and I started a friendship that has I do not have words for. Looking back at the start of this friendship I remember a quirky thing- we played cricket in my backyard and I was in a lunghi..:D. Through the summer months ( all ppl from Chennai- I refer to the months of may june and july!.. Others who might be confused Chennai has four seasons like any other place- summer summer summer and summer) we would cycle everywhere. We also made big plans to cycle 20 miles to Mahabalipuram on a “foggy” ”smoggy” bhogi morning but had to cancel because of others ditching in the last moment..(my first experience at being ditched after a lot of planning..;) ). When I went into the 11th grade I got busy with my IIT preps and fergot about my cycle. One day when I got home I saw that the cycle was missing. I ran up to my mom saying its happened again my cycle has been stolen again! My mom goes – don’t be silly who would steal the piece of junk .. we sold it of to the “raddiwala” months ago. I hadn’t even noticed. I hadn’t bade my goodbyes. I hadn’t kissed her on the handlebar and bid farewell to my closest aid. I was so angry with my parents that they hadn’t consulted me on this .. since then I havn’t really cycled bearing the odd circumstance here and there.

All those things came back to me today as I went round on Su’s bike ( hell probably say theres something “smelly” bout this…;)].. reading famous fives a long time ago I decided that I would cycle the country side and eat ice-cream at the local village store and true to my dream I finished up with a “legendary” chocolate shake at Ben and jerry’s.. siggggggh.. life is so complicated now that I did not want to ( I stopped in between and lay on the grass by the Mississippi) get up at all .. all I wanted to do was to stare up above the sky so high and look at the passing clouds in solitude..

On request.................... The Zany adventures of agent Su and Agent P .. not the pink bunny .. su and Prrrr and other stories

Cigarettes are an important part of a wonderful Friday night Agent S. Get them before you are too sloshed to make sure your credit card gets back into your wallet and wallet into the back pocket.

In a cigarette shop- some Marlboro lites please .. some guy- hey you guys should be ashamed of yourselves.. have you guys never seen cigarette lighters before .. is this the first time.. not yet drunk to pick up a fight so a lame polite smile get the bill and continue into the moonlit night.

On the street- oh bald one- hey you guys from India??
Agents-Yup. Oh.b..one- we were just having a laugh that you guys must be from wipro or tata..agents – hhahhahahhahahaha.. no we goto the u here.. Oh.b..one- cool we actually work for a firm from noida.. have fun guys..

The Brits are coming- a chick chik here and a chik chik there .. get some beer.. try kruggers.. effevtive strategy—drink a pint of beer like a shot.. collars are up now because that’s where the microphone is hidden.. contacting mother ship Agent S and Agent P have reached the target .. mission plan confirmed.

Get to an Irish place down the same street., mother ship confirming mission for the second time- get the gold from a lepricorn.. from under the rainbow. Get some Irish beer which helps us agents whose blood have nanobots locate the gold. Intuition skills upto brilliant levels. Oh Flaming red hair- get us our medicine.. a tryst is planned for my blood and his ever changing lover of different forms Alcohol.. Flaming red hair obliges quickly

Jackass gives us his first appearance—hey u fukun Indians hows it gng??.. bet uve got a comb in your back pocket .. huuuuuuuuuuuh.. Agent P – sure also have a handkerchief in my front pocket to wipe my sweat from my fore head.. wink wink at some blonde chik..
Jack ass will make an appeaeance later on as he moves to table of chiks..

Agent P- Agent S what are thou.. Agent S- I am what I am.. A robot.. Agent P- It is said that robots such as yourself have their genitals in their wrists..
Agent S- It is forbidden to hold hands in public where I come from.. (a sad look encompasses his bot features).. Agent P- Irony would be a really well structured girl bot made to seduce us human agents and all you have to do is hold hands..sigggghhhhhhhhh…

Nanobots upto full charge .. Jackass is back.. after a tryst with Agent S which has not been revealed for both agents get free shots brought up again by Oh Flaming red hair..The gold is now in sight being protected by green jacketed Irish leprecauns..
Mothership- situation assesses pull out of there We repeat pull out of there..

“He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day”

VTech..

I am sure people have had enough views on what happened in Vtech and so I m not going to dwell on what or why but say I was truly shocked and found myself feeling really sad at what happened. It was one time that I am happy that I do not have easy access to a television set and am not being tormented by stupid news channels like FOX and CNN adding to good material for the Daily Show! I have been following the story though through the net mainly the BBC website. I came across this blog on the website from the editors and found it really interesting. I thought it was real nice to see that they were facing a moral quandary about featuring the “NBC videos” and felt a responsibility to share their thoughts on the whole scenario..

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/theeditors/2007/04/why_we_showed_gunman_video.html

The Magic Faraway Tree

My mom instilled in me the passion for reading books. Through my formative years she read umpteen number of books starting from the book of magical tales, Tintin, Asterix, and Enid Blytons galore( Noddy, the wishing chair, Mr.Twiddle…). When I was in the second grade I took a brave step into the reading world be reading the second book in the faraway tree series by Enid Blyton- Folk of the faraway tree. It took me two whole days to read the book and my mom applauded me for the effort. This is what started off a beautiful relationship between me and books. The best retreat from the mundane world. I went the cycle- the famous five, the hardy boys ( being a boy keeping away from nancy Drew!!..:D), Alistair mclean.. and then Crichton. I read “Disclosure” by Crichton when I was in the ninth grade. My brother tattled on me telling my parents its was an adult book not for me. My dad came up to me that night and said-“disclosure eh.. did you know the movie had Michael Douglous…( a pause).. and Demi Moore in it?” I just blinked and said no. He then said.. “ Enjoy the book” and gave me a fatherly smile. I never felt that elated in my life having snubbed my lovin bro in an unobvious way. Thinking back my parents helped me in a big way to form my own opinions and did not thrust theirs or what others thought onto me.

Recently I found out that there was a fourth book in the Faraway tree series and was trying to buy it on Amazon. I couldn’t find one copy but I did find the faraway tree stories with different titles. So I looked it up on Wiki. Apparently the moral policemen and women felt that Enid Blyton made several sexist and racist undertones to her stories! She had her characters named “DICK”! so they changed the name of characters and cut out many a chapter such as the one with Dame Slap.. ( for those of u who havnt read .. she is a character who spanks naughty children)!! What a load of crap. Being an adult you find any undertone you want in the simplest of sentences. Its like joey can sordidly comment on a sandwich on Friends!

When I read the books as a child it propelled my imagination and helped me do things a kid can do in a calvin way not in a “pornographic” way. Enid blyton in my opinion is as good as Tolkien and Rowling if not better and wrote childrens books not adult pornographic material. There are a lot of things that kids of today are exposed to with the media rampage that is.. but Blyton is not one of them. Books are a way of having some clean fun that takes you to a different world and tests your power of imagination that the idiot box could never do.