18

Some might say that it’s wrong

 


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It was the last day before the summer vacations of the kids were about to start. All the ladies in the WhatsApp group – ‘Class of 2003’ were busy gossiping about how they have convinced their husbands to pick up their kids from the school.

Nothing is as refreshing as seeing your father at the end of a long hot summer afternoon at school come to receive you.

They all lined up outside the main gate, waiting for the final bell to go off. Most of them were coming straight from work in their formals while some belonging to the self-employed class had the privilege of being in casuals. But there was one, who was dressed up like a cool dude. He had come on his Royal Enfield Bullet. The aura around him suggested that this guy doesn’t have an iota of a worry. He too was their batchmate but looked way too younger and was in great physical shape. He was so good looking that some of their wives even teased them by mentioning his name at odd hours.

The moment the other men saw, the humming of bees started among them. Each and every one was jealous of him. It was as if the roles had reversed and now they were discussing (read cribbing) more like their wives. The reason being he was still unmarried.

The WOW prompt

Some might say that it’s wrong to remain unmarried but I really envy him for the fact that how can someone have so much freedom and fun. Slowly each of them started pouring their heart out:

You get to sleep on any side of the bed…in fact, the whole damn bed is yours. No fight for the pillow…no tug-of-war for the blanket at night. No changing of diapers at 2 am.

These so-called ‘parents’ and ‘elders’ are never satisfied with whatever you do. They were after my life first to get married. After I got married they were after me for giving them a grandchild. Now once I fulfilled their wish they are chasing me to give the child a sibling.

First, they say you are doing all this for the family but where is the time for the family. From 8 am to 11 pm I am slogging in the office earning for the EMIs that are reducing us bit by bit. If it weren’t for wife’s Facebook posts I would have even missed the growth of my kids.

Some relatives suggested get married to a small town girl; she will be a good housewife. Now she has become a great housewife along with three maids doing the better half of her duties.

He still gets to play cricket on weekends while we spend most of ours in the queues of supermarkets. He is partying on Friday nights while we are busy helping out with home works.

He gets to take out his bike, do solo trips and explore the mountains while we end up spending the holidays just planning where to go. Most of us spend more time doing to and fro outside the movie theatre than actually watching the movie.

In fact, to his credit, he did give a Russian girl a real chance but the family went crazy the moment he brought her home. His life is so perfect as he can choose to go out with different girls on different nights and his eyes became moist (The one who was saying this). Everyone went quiet reflecting on their miserable lives.

The bell rang…kids came out running…each outpacing the other in the desire to hug their father.

The dude overheard everything. He turned towards the men and said; “You know what I miss the most, my bundle of joy running towards me like this as if I mean the world to him.”

For all those who are still unmarried,

For all those who are single,

For all those who are married

And

For all those who love their kids

It’s not a Goodbye

but it’s a GOOD BYE

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

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19

The Mystery Blogger Award

The Mystery Blogger Award

To begin with let me express my immense gratitude towards Sonia Chatterjee for trusting me as a worthy nominee for the Mystery blogger award. I have been blogging for the past eight years (yeah its true) but always treated it as a hobby until this year’s blogchatter’s ebook carnival where I published a compilation of my top posts and stories and started seriously putting efforts in blogging too. My father always wanted me to pursue my passion but unfortunately he isn’t around to see me pursuing it.

Thank you again Sonia – I accept the award with all humbleness and would treat it as fuel to weave more words. I am beginning to learn how to take compliments.

Mystery behind Mystery Blogger Award

Okota Enigma started this award with the underlying theme being, “It’s an award for amazing bloggers with ingenious posts. Their blog not only captivates; it inspires and motivates. They are one of the best out there, and they deserve every recognition they get. This award is also for bloggers who find fun and inspiration in blogging, and they do it with so much love and passion.”

Every award is preceded by some rules and mystery blogger award is no different. Here are the rules of this award –

  1. Put the award logo/image on your blog. List the rules.
  2. Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  3. Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well
  4. Tell your readers 3 things about yourself
  5. You have to nominate 10 – 20 people
  6. Notify your nominees by commenting on their blog
  7. Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice; with one weird or funny question (specify)
  8. Share a link to your best post(s).

The Mystery Blogger Award

The first three already taken care of, lets begin with the fourth one.

Three things about me:

I was born dead and am not kidding. I have even written a post on the same. You can read it here.

Why I chose the name ‘The Contemplation of a Joker’?

Jostein Gaarder said, “A joker is a little fool who is different from everyone else, he is not a club, a diamond or a spade, he is not an eight or a nine or a king or a jack. He is an outsider”. Here I have tried to be a Joker in everyone’s lives, bringing them bits of stories and laughter from all corners of life. As is the case with a Joker, they might not remember my name, they might not even know the real me, but I will always be glad that I was, am and will always be a part of the readers lives. I touched without actually being in their lives…just like a joker is in the stack with other cards without actually belonging there.

Some unique features:

You will be surprised to know that WWE (earlier WWF) played an important part in me improving my English. I am a good cook – I can actually prepare a whole meal – my father couldn’t even light up a stove, hence my mom made sure that her son turns out to be better at household chores. Few lucky ones have had the privilege of being hosted by me. I am a great relationship advisor too. Over the years many people and close friends have approached me and hopefully they received the right advice. I have been a sportsperson all my life, involved with some or the other at any given time – currently preparing for the Delhi Half Marathon.

Moving on to the questions Sonia put across:
Tell us one thing about yourself that nobody knows.

The actual question should be could I tell you something that no one knows, there is a reason that no one knows it but let me still surprise you. I don’t eat ice creams. I know I know.

Which genre of books do you enjoy reading the most and why?

Anything, which has the potential to stir emotions within a soul, that emotion can be any, the genre isn’t important. My personal favorite being George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal farm and most of Dan Brown and Paulo Coelho’s work.

What is the best piece of advice or feedback that you received for your writing?

That “Don’t struggle to be a writer, that you become the day you hold a pen and scribble your thoughts. Focus on being an honest and relatable writer. Its like, “dance like no one is watching and write like everyone is living your words.”

If you were stranded on an island, what things would you take with you and why?

Few good books, descent supply of my favorite food and a solar powered satellite phone (inspiration cast away) – so that when I am done being in solitude I shall call for help. In all seriousness a book on how to survive when you are stranded on an island. 😀

What is the weirdest or craziest thing that you have ever done?

My weird might not be your crazy, though if you have read my ‘Death on Karnataka express’ you should know that’s as weird as a person can get. Since we are talking about food here I once ate a cockroach. Yeah go faint.

I nominate:

Arjun Gupta – https://knightofsteel.com/

Anshu Bhojnagarwala – https://anshubhojnagarwala.wordpress.com/

Ashwini Menon – https://ashwinisperceptions.com/

Deepti Verma – https://nationalviews.com

Dipali Bhasin – https://www.spoonsandsneakers.com

Huma Masood – https://www.silkenscribblings.com/

Jyotsna Sharma – https://bhaatdaal.wordpress.com/

Kadambari Singh – http://thevibrantdiaries.blogspot.com/

Lavanya Srinivasan – https://thelavmuse.com/

Leha Divakar – https://theliteraryaffairblog.wordpress.com/

MsArora – https://education17048.wordpress.com/

Nidhi R Gautam – https://theprivatesocialite.wordpress.com/

Nupur Maskara – http://www.nutatut.com/

Prerna Wahi – https://prernawahi.com/

Priyal Poddar – http://parilifestyle.com/

Riddhi Sharma – http://riddhiculous.com/

Richa S Mukherjee – https://richasmukherjee.com/

Shalini Nair – https://kohleyedme.com/

Shivangi Srivastava – https://myketosutra.wordpress.com/

I know everyone has their commitments so don’t feel you have to participate just because I nominated you but I would definitely love you to, and if you want to take part and I haven’t nominated you consider yourself nominated.

Five questions for my nominations:
  • What’s your superpower?
  • What do you want to be engraved on your tombstone?
  • What’s that one advice you give to everyone?
  • What’s your take on soul mate
  • Weird one – What do you love more – Cockroach or lizard?
My personal favorite:

The Alien Bridge – sometimes when I read it – I get surprised that I wrote this.

Read it here: The Alien Bridge

For all those who love recognitions,

For all those who love competitions,

For all those who are mysterious,

For all those who are nominated

And

For all those who have received Mystery Blogger Award

It’s not a Goodbye,

But It’s a GOOD BYE…

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

35

When I Tell the Truth

 


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When I tell the truth…

I was returning from the temple back to my room. She was walking on the other side of the road with her roommate. Both of them were my classmates too. I closed my eyes, silently prayed to God and hopefully crossed the road.

I began, “I want to discuss something really important with you and seek your advice.”

“Definitely, I am all ears”, She replied.

“There is this girl, who is really amazing. I feel I have fallen for her. There is only a single thought in my mind…and that thought belongs to her”, I said.

“So what’s the issue…that you have fallen for her”, she said sarcastically.

“Hahaha…No No! She is a dear friend. I treasure the bond. I am scared that the moment I share my feelings with her, I might lose both; her and the friendship”, I said anxiously.

“Listen the honest thing for you would be to speak up about your romantic inclinations towards her. If she is genuinely a close friend then I am sure she would understand it and won’t let it strain the friendship even if she isn’t willing to give the relationship a try”, she advised.

“I am still hesitant. I mean you are saying this because you aren’t in that position and this might still backfire”, I persisted.

“Trust me. If your emotions are heartfelt and sincere they will reach their correct destination and create the rightful impact. Don’t worry…just go ahead and express it to her”, she encouraged.

wow prompt – Blogadda

“That girl is YOU”, I said and there was complete silence. They both were staring at each other. She was stunned while her roommate was giggling.

“Yes…that girl is YOU”, I said again.

Suddenly out of nowhere, she started laughing. I was amazed and somehow embarrassed. Here I was pouring my heart out and she was blowing it up as nothing happened.

“Nice try Mr. Joker. I loved the way you worked around it. I am aware of your pranks. Keep working”, she laughed off loudly.

About thirty seconds later I said, “Exactly, everybody has fallen prey to my jokes and pranks except you”, desperately trying to hide my shattered heart with a wide grin.

I guess the irony of my life is when I tell the truth people treat it as a Joke and when I joke they take it straight to heart.

For all those who have been friend zoned,

For all those who have met similar fate,

For all those whose jokes are misunderstood

And

For all those who know how to smile on themselves…

It’s not a Goodbye,

But it’s a GOOD BYE.

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

Its an amazingly humbling feeling when somebody is inspired by your words. Here is a post by MsArora inspired by this very post by the Joker. Read here

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

205

Death on Karnataka Express

Death on Karnataka Express

The sudden jerk of the train coming to a halt shook me out of slumber. I was sleeping on the middle berth of a three-tier AC coach. I moved the pungent smelling inflexible curtain and tried to peep through the window. The sun was yet to rise but the morning blue had taken over the milieus. It looked like the train was moving through the outskirts of a city. I got my wristwatch out of my backpack and checked the time. It was 6:30 am.

We were travelling in Karnataka express from Bangalore to New Delhi. My initial job training got over in Mysore and I got posting in Chandigarh. Mom was paying a visit to my sister in Bangalore and hence was accompanying me back till Chandigarh.

The last time I checked in the night, when we reached Bhopal, the train was running on its scheduled time.

I thought, ‘we must be approaching Agra by this time.’

I slid to my left and looked down at the lower berth. Mom was still sleeping peacefully. A sensation urged me to use the washroom. I slowly got down in a crouching position, making sure not to wake her up, slipped into my slippers and walked through the narrow passage towards the washroom.

Death on Karnataka Express

After using the washroom, I decided to look outside the entrance door of the coach, since the train hadn’t yet moved. There is no more serene sight than countryside right up early in the morning. I leaped outside the gate but there was no one in sight. ‘Probably most of the people are still sleeping’, I supposed. ‘It was a good four hours still left for us to reach New Delhi, if the train reached at its timetabled arrival time.’

The huge iron wheels slowly started moving making a screeching sound. I shut the door and walked back to my berth. The berth opposite to mom’s berth was empty.

‘The elderly man would have got down at a station somewhat late in the night, as I was pretty much awake past midnight’, I pondered.

Five more minutes passed by and the train gathered momentum. The rural dwellings in the landscape were being replaced by more urban infrastructure. I knew that the railway station was about to arrive and considered having a cup of tea and some biscuits. Mom usually is an early riser and it was way past her regular wake up time. ‘

‘I guess she wouldn’t have an idea what time it is’, I assumed.

She didn’t prefer tea prepared at stations but I, nevertheless, thought of asking her before the station arrives. I feebly called out, “MOM.”

“Mom…Mom…MOM”, I kept calling gradually increasing the pitch of my voice. She didn’t respond leave alone waking up.

I touched her feet to wake her up but she didn’t respond this time either. I started shaking her arm slightly and simultaneously calling out ‘mom…mom…mom.’ It felt as if she was intentionally not waking up.

I touched her forehead. It was damp and cold. Initially I thought that the air-conditioning might have done it. Her cheeks were even icier. I didn’t know what had happened to her. I kept shaking her arm and calling her for more than two minutes but she didn’t budge a single bit.

I was beginning to get worried. I didn’t know what to do. I could see the train slowly entering the station through the window and thought of trying to wake her up one more time.

She didn’t respond.

By now the glitter of sweat was shining on my forehead. I was getting more and more nervous and anxious as time passed. Somehow in these sorts of situations, negative thoughts are the first ones to swarm your mind.

They didn’t spare me either and for a second I thought, ‘Is Mom dead?’

The more I was trying to wake her up, the stronger the sinking feeling became. I knew I had to remain calm and try to think my way through, ‘what if she was actually dead.’

In my custom and tradition the first thing that happens is, as soon as you get to know that either of your parents or any blood relative has passed away, we aren’t supposed to eat anything till the final cremation rituals are performed.

I quelled my mind and focused on the difficult task at hand. I started deliberating, ‘should I get down at Agra or should I continue till New Delhi and seek some help there? Should I call someone right away?’ Should I seek some medical help in the train itself?

My heart was breaking in fact shattering.

I knew it was going to be a long…really long day ahead. The thought of not eating anything for the next two days was already eating my mind. I decided to get down to at least have a cup of tea and couple of cookies. The train was about to move and I had to act fast.

I immediately got down and went to a railway tea stall. The vendor was selling some stale tea but there wasn’t any other option in sight. I decided since I might not get anything else; let me purchase two cups of tea. I purchased a packet of biscuits and put it in my jeans’ rear pocket. I thought of having one cup right away but that same screeching sound of the iron wheels started.

I hurriedly reached the metal door and a fellow passenger helped me board the train again.

I was making my way through few people who were beginning to wake up, making sure I don’t spill any of it.

The eerie feeling of having tea right next to my dead mom also came over me for a second but the contemplation of being hungry for the next two days made a starving sensation in me and I thought, ‘what the hell! Let me have it. There wasn’t anyone who knew me or would complain that I had tea and cookies after mom passed away.’

As soon as I reached my berth, I was dumbfounded and speechless by what I saw.

Mom was wide-awake sitting upright and combing her hair. She annoyingly looked at me and began, ‘how many times have I told you not to get down on every station. What happened to you is everything all right? Why do you look so astonished?’

I handed her a cup of tea interrupting her and sheepishly said, “I got down to bring you some tea and biscuits.”

“In all these years have you ever seen me have this railway station tea?” she added.

I knew it was embarrassingly awkward what had conspired into my head and decided to tell her the ordeal of buying two cups of tea.

She broke into a loud uncontrollable laughter. I joined in. I told her that the first thought that came to my mind after seeing my mom dead, was to have tea and biscuit.

We kept on laughing till we reached New Delhi.

To this day, whenever we discuss a train journey, we roll in fits of laughter remembering this episode.

For all those who love their moms,

For all those who have lost loved ones,

For all those who are fed up of such rituals,

For all those who love trains,

And

For all those who love humour…

It’s not a GoodBye…

But It’s a GOOD BYE

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

I am taking my Alexa rank to the next level with Blogchatter

#MyFriendAlexa #ContemplationOfaJoker #CirqueDuJoker

20

Interview with Manas #AuthorChatter #anshuasks

Anshu Bhojnagarwala

Manas Mukul is human – an MBA, a Business Consultant, Actor, Software Engineer, Writer, Blogger, Joker.

authorchatter, author interview, contemplation of a joker, ebook, blogchatter, blogger Manas loves Sports, Travel and Dance. He is humorous and fun loving.

‘The Contemplation of a Joker’ is the child of his pen!! Excited to know him!

Which is your favourite story in the collection ‘The Contemplation of a Joker’?

Can a mother differentiate among her children? No. Right. But I would still say ‘Made for each other’ is the most complete and elaborate of all the stories in The Contemplation of a Joker.

What does joker stand for in this book? Is it your alter ego?

Jostein Gaarder said, “A joker is a little fool who is different from everyone else, he is not a club, a diamond or a spade, he is not an eight or a nine or a king or a jack. He is an outsider”. Here I…

View original post 912 more words