Sunday, November 13, 2011

The Incidental Criminal Part V: King Monty the Sixth

“… a sad day indeed in the history of Mosquit. It remains to be seen how the Law Enforcement Department reacts to this sudden turn of events. Anonymous Sources from the Ministry tell us that even as we speak, a high-level meeting is underway in the Palace convened by the Prime Minister of Mosquit herself to decide on the future course of action.
In related news, King Monty the Sixth has expressed regret over the death of Agent Red Alpha; Terming his life as the epitome of courage and loyalty to the Mosquit nation, he has announced a National Mourning for 2 minutes in the Veteran agent’s honor …”

He pulled down his antennae and sighed. These had to be the darkest seconds of his 2 hour long rule. He stood up from his desk and flew around his magnificent office. This was perhaps the only place in the entire kingdom where he could move around of his own free will. Constantly surrounded by a web of special forces for his security, advisers, ministers, he had virtually forgotten the last time he had spent alone outside of this office.

There was a knock on the door. An orderly came inside. “Sir, the Head Cleric has prepared the final draft for your message to the nation regarding further course of action. I need you to sign and authorize the message”
“Very well”.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”

He looked at the portrait of his father, King Monty the Fifth.

He had never wanted to be a King. He still remembered the time he had tried explaining to his father, his passion for Zoology, expressly Lizard Sciences. Even as a larva, he had always been fascinated with the reptiles. His father and his advisers were aghast at the very thought of the crown prince studying the creatures who had constantly been at war with the Mosquit nation from the very beginnings of the Ecosystem.

His father had one day called him to this very room. He had said “It is the Destiny of the Dynasty, my boy. You cannot change what you were always meant to be. Tis already written. What is in your hand however, is what you make of this destiny, what fate you leave behind for your nation and your children.” His father had died the very next hour, and he had been crowned the King.
But things now were very different from his father’s times. The king’s stature had been reduced to a ceremonial position, where he only signed his messages to the nation, prepared by others, and passed orders, most of which he didn’t even understand, in the name of the King.

He was not allowed to go out into the public except for once a quarter hour for apparent security reasons.

The Kingdom was effectively being run by Ministers, Advisors, Generals, and other “well-wishers”, all of course in the name of the king. Their inflated egos and constant squabbles had made a mockery out of the largest Mosquito nation of the whole Ecosystem.

The Monarchy in Mosquit was dieing a slow death.

The common mosquitoes and the media had started terming him as the weakest King in Mosquit history, through no fault of his own. Or perhaps the fault had indeed been his. By not acting at the right time, by allowing “the professionals to handle the matters”, perhaps he had indeed made himself weak.

“What is in your hand however, is what you make of this destiny, what fate you leave behind for your nation and your children.”

His father’s words rang through his mind again. He must do something by himself. He could no longer let down his people through his inaction. But what should he do?

He remembered another of his father's teachings.

“The Enemy of your enemy, is your friend”.

Of course. How could all his strategists and ministers not think of this sooner. How could, He, not think of this sooner !

He called the Head Cleric. “I want an audience with the Head Council of Mosquit. Tell them that the King has decided to ask the lizard Nation for cooperation against Payoj Gupta.”

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Incidental Criminal part IV - Agent Red Alpha

“Now, back to the main story that we have been covering for the past 30 minutes; Agent Red Alpha, the most celebrated spy in the history of Mosquit has been assigned the case of the infamous serial killer and mass murderer Payoj Gupta. For those, unaware of him, here is a brief description of how this agent rose to fame by our special correspondent Berky Dita.”

“He is the most celebrated spy in the Mosquit empire. Though the Agent Alpha program was derived from a popular movie series in the human world, almost all experts unanimously agree that if there ever were an actual 007 among the humans, the Agent Red Alpha could give him a run for his money.”

“The veteran agent first came into limelight when during the course of his very first mission; he infiltrated the Lizard kingdom and gained intelligence about a secret Lizard hideout where elaborate plans were being made by the Lizard General Iroh, of an impending attack on Mosquit city. He successfully escaped from the Lizard Fortress and reported this information to his superiors just in time to allow the citizens to vacate the city and for the Mosquit military and Special Forces to plan and organise a daring and incredible ambush that resulted in deaths of 9 king size lizards, and a safe city.”

“Thanks, Berky. Now we have with us in our studio a long time close associate of the agent, Retired Ex-Sergeant Tim Bitsworth. So,Tim, what do you have to say about Red Alpha?”

“Well, I have only one thing to say; He is cold and ruthless, almost mechanical while eliminating targets at the behest of King Monty himself. Be it humans, lizards or even those unfortunate Kings of the Jungle, the poison dart that this agent carries is lethal next only to the mosquito carrying it.”

“Thanks Tim. The veteran spy has been entrusted with eliminating the human, one Payoj Gupta with whatever means necessary. Payoj Gupta, who first hit headlines on his mysterious escape from the Mosquit High Court, where he was to be punished for the murder of 54 mosquitoes. During the course of his escape, he also killed three senior law enforcement mosquitoes. It was later found that his body has somehow become resistant to regular shrinking devices that are used to apprehend most other large-sized felons, a fact that has many scientists worried as this could be the next stage in the evolution of the humans. As one of our sources told us, this makes it all the more necessary to eliminate the human.”

“So, it was under such grim circumstances, when the Directorate of Human intelligence recalled the 32 hour old agent out of retirement for eliminating this threat to Mosquit.”

“Over the period of half an hour, Agent Red Alpha shall inject the human with controlled quantities of a special chemical mixture prepared by scientists, designed to fight the victim’s anti-bodies for days at end. Though he may not live long enough to see this enemy of the state fall dead, he will have secured the lives of countless mosquitoes from the megalomaniac human.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He flew inside the room as a whole contingent of law enforcement officers from Mosquit stood by and looked on in amazement.

The human seemed busy writing something. He lunged forward in a flawless dive, accelerating so as to ensure that the dart found its target, and break through the dense skin.

He had already injected him thrice; each time accompanied by loud cheers from the junior staff of the law enforcement and media correspondents behind the fence.

Suddenly, the human stood up. He looked around closely and spotted the agent. He clapped his hands in order to smash the mosquito to death. The veteran agent dodged easily. He looked into the human’s eyes. He saw an evil glint and a horrific smile just as the human pulled back and clapped his hands multiple times successively. The agent expertly dived around and dodged the onslaught, but the resultant shock waves were tremendous, which accompanied by strong air currents, struck the agent hard and the spy lost his balance for a split second.
He crashed onto a nearby bottle.

He spread his wings again, ready to fly. He fell down on the table. His wings were wet from the condensate on the bottle's surface. He struggled to hide, but it was futile.

Payoj smiled. He looked sinister, a monster.

THUMP !!!!

There was a deathly silence.

The law enforcement officers looked on, too shocked to react as they lost their Hero to the Terror wielding Human.

Monday, October 3, 2011

The Incidental Criminal Part III: Mosqatma Ganphi


Contrary to popular perception among humans, not all mosquitoes bite just in order to procure blood to sustain themselves. In an average lifetime of about 3 days, a mosquito hardly needs 7-8 drops of blood to keep itself alive. Ten tops.


Not unlike humans, a mosquito is a very moody and emotional creature. Apart from the obvious need for nutrition and feeding the young ones, it may even bite you simply out of boredom. Then, there are special mosquito units in each major mosquito empire that are involved in continuously replenishing a stockpile of human blood as well as blood from some other organisms to be used in times of crisis.

Interestingly, mosquitoes prefer human blood to that of other organisms, owing to the relative hygiene and superior living conditions of humans. One may find sufficient amounts of a variety of flavors of human blood in all upper class mosquito households.

Then, there are the law enforcement mosquitoes that carry out sentences against humans involved in large-scale massacres of mosquitoes.

There are what you may call “adrenaline junkies” that mess with humans just to derive a sense of adventure in their lives.

There are petty criminal warlords who carry a vicious vendetta against humans for one reason or the other; and bite them with lethal bio-weaponry, thus inflicting their own massacres on the humans, which obviously led to further retaliation by humans.


It was not always like this though. For a brief period of history there was a grand revolution in the whole mosquito world. The mosquito that led the movement came into the picture when the mosquito governments and non-state actors both organized and encouraged mindless attacks on humans and other organisms. In such times of great turmoil, came from the huge city-state of Mosquit, Ganphi, a mosquito that challenged the very core of the mosquito society.

He lived a very simple life. He disapproved of all kinds of violence, even if they meant biting someone to satisfy hunger. He spent his entire life of 54 hours on nothing but fruit juices and mould; inspiring a whole generation of non-biters among mosquitoes.

A lawyer by profession, he gave up a glittering career in order to fight for the rights of the lowest strata in the mosquito society-the aphids, that after being stolen from the ant farms were used as labor for various chores and forced to live a moribund life. The government under the King Pintoinitially resisted and tried to shut off any dissent, but by then, Ganphi had caught the imagination of the nation’s youth and the huge aphid populations who rallied behind him and forced the government to bend to their will in a non-violent movement.


Having gained the support and trust of an entire generation of mosquitoes, Ganphi started taking up other causes as well. He implored upon the mosquito society to understand and value the life of others, that they should bite only as much as they need, that they should recognize the right to life with dignity for all organisms. He severely criticized the preferential biting of humans just because of their hygiene.

He fought for equal rights for the male mosquitoes who had been reduced to ceremonial show-pieces.


His radical ideas and their support also led to the creation of extremist factions within the mosquito society. These were the ones who believed mosquitoes to be the most superior race off all and disapproved of Ganphi’s thinking.And it was one such disillusioned extremist that killed the Mosqatma. The mosquito who abhorred violence all his life, who didn’t bite a single living soul, was brutally killed in a mindless act of rage.

Today, when the mosquito world is yet again embroiled in turmoil, it awaits the arrival of another Ganphi.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

The Incidental Reckoning

From as long as I can remember, I have always been an indulgent person. Whether it be enjoying delicious delicacies, watching all time classic movies, or any other form of recreation, I go to great pains, and look after specific details, in order to enjoy the most from these experiences.


So, when I realised that the summer of 2011 was going to be the final vacation of my life, my brain went into overdrive planning what all I intended to do, before the ‘end of the days’ as it were. Detailed lists were made into the number and variety of snacks that are pleasing to my insatiable tongue, and the days available for me to devour them, taking special care that favourites like khaman and patra are repeated on multiple occasions. In fact, I think now, that had I started preparing on these arrangements a bit earlier, I would have easily mastered the subject of Industrial Management Techniques, which ended up giving me quite a hard time in my final semester.


When it came to recreation, I had a fairly extensive list of bestseller books that I had been dying to read, but couldn’t do so on account of the busy schedule during college. The first book on the list was ‘The Lost Symbol’ by Dan Brown, which I had been meaning to read for quite some time. Thus, on an occasional visit to the railway station recently, I enquired about that book at the Wheeler’s book shop. It cost Rs. 700. Now, those of you who know me well enough will readily attest to the fact that I am an extremely miserly person. It is simply not in my nature to spend money freely. So, this sudden condition severely dented my well thought-out plans of enjoying fiction during these holidays. Just as I was about to leave the shop, my gaze fell on Gandhi’s autobiography.


Now, there are certain moments in life when one acts in ways that one cannot explain at a later time. Until then, I was not particularly interested in the life of Gandhi. Though I respected the man for popularising the idea of non-violence, and pioneering such a struggle to that effect, I had always frowned upon his views on practically all other subjects.


Maybe I was attracted by the Rs. 30 tag on the book, or by the mysterious personality of the man himself, but I have been engrossed in this book for quite some time now.


There is a certain sense of romanticism in reading a person’s description of their own life. I imagined, would the Mahatma have known the minute way in which his words would be contemplated by the future generations, the same words that must have flown out of him in a fit of ruthless honesty. From what I have read, the man seems to have tremendous insight into his own self. He is objective in the analysis of his life, to the point of sounding monotonous over events in his life and pertaining to his family, which must have had great sentimental value, to have been etched in his mind since his childhood.


In addition, I find Gandhi extremely honest and truthful; such an honest assessment as well as narrative of one’s life can only come from being at peace with one’s own expectations and those of the rest of the world or perhaps an utter disregard for what the others might think. I have hardly read a hundred pages of the book, and I already feel inspired by the brute honesty the man has displayed, when he could have as easily written a self-righteous tale of a saint using prudish, complex and vague words.


In his many flaws, and the ways in which he overcomes them, Gandhi has made himself not into the ultimate standard of morality but a beacon of hope for desirable change in each one of us.


So, what was intended as an entertaining summer replete with Robert Langdon running the length of some country’s museums and historical buildings, chased by a variety of intelligence agencies seeking some treasure or hidden truth, turned into a period of enlightenment and self-reckoning for me. Must say, that’s the best 30 rupees I ever spent or perhaps the best 700 rupees I didn’t.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Prologue: Dreaming The End

Author's note: A Prologue and a brief glimpse into the initial draft of a 3 part story that I have been writing for quite some time...

Suggestions and Feedback are most welcome...



In the year 2019, as the human population increased manifold with advancements in medical science, while the resources became scarce, a civil war ensued throughout the world, with the world's poor up in the arms against the rich for their lavish lifestyles, while the poor slogged it out.


It was under these circumstances, that Altacruz, a pharmaceutical company came out of obscurity with a drug and a device that shaped a person's dreams to last longer, and become more believable, with the person dreaming them having better control on the events happening in their dream. Originally meant to help treat the people suffering from paralysis or those in a vegetative state, it fast became an outlet for the poor and the disgruntled for a better chance at life. Numerous underground facilities started operating in the Third world countries, and soon the wonder drug became more popular and elusive than the conventional ones. With no known side effects, there was nothing the government agencies could do to limit its use. However, it is widely believed that certain governments secretly flooded their markets with the drug in order to contain the civil war and pacify the protestors into silence.


However, there were concerns all around the world. Wouldn't everyone want to live like that? Where everyone could live the perfect life they craved, wouldn't people want to let go of reality altogether. If that were to happen, our society and technology had the danger of going into stagnation. A species that had developed and innovated consistently over 3000 years would have degenerated.


However, those in favor of the “Wonder Drug”, opined that such a drug would not only help end the civil unrest, but might also arrest the pace of depletion of Earth’s natural resources for a while. After all, if people spent more time sleeping, they would be conserving most of their energy, and will thus need not only less food, but less fuel and electricity.


In order to further publicize its usefulness, Altacuz financed certain experiments which ultimately went on to prove that prolonged exposure to the drug can lead to an increase in the usage of the sub-conscious mind, and thus, a person’s inherent ability to innovate and invent will overtime, increase drastically.


By the end of the year 2038, this new technology had become a way of life for many. What started off as an experiment into an alternate form of entertainment, became so popular among the people at large, that even the rich with supposedly everything one could ask for were ready to shell out large amounts of money for securing an alternate life in this exciting realm.


A number of side businesses flourished customized for the fantasies of the rich, where the dream machine offered one 30 day experience into the star wars, or the harry potter universes by partly controlling and manipulating your dreams.


And so, now, in the year 2042, only 500 million off the total population of 7 billion lives on in the reality. Carbon-di oxide levels are at an all time low, the human population has stabilized, even though most economies have effectively shut down because of the lack of consumer demand. Even then, poverty is non-existent.


National boundaries have become irrelevant as has been the prospect of war. All Weapon development programs throughout the world have been halted.


There is a deafening silence throughout the planet.


There hasn’t been a single scientific innovation in the past 4 years.


A thousand light years away, an alien civilization plans its next trip to the planet Earth...


To be continued...

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Life at the centre of the crowd

Have you ever stood beside a busy road teeming with traffic?

Have you ever looked closely as a mob of strangers passes by, going about their lives completely oblivious to your existence?

You will never set your eyes on some of them again, while many others will whizz past you every day and it would still not matter.

There is a small boy balanced precariously on the lap of an elder, his face all scrunched up, as he tries to make the best of whatever small space he has been allotted, while trying to shield his eyes from the sun. He is waiting eagerly, for this journey to end, simultaneously longing to become old enough to command a seat of his own in this small family car catering to the 8 members of this middle class family.

Suddenly our eyes meet. He seems curious, as he momentarily sidelines his discomfort and smiles at me. I look away as the old Maruti 800 speeds past.

I scourge around for my next target.

There is a seemingly well-to-do and successful gentleman sitting in the back of a Honda City obviously being driven around by his underpaid driver. The driver doesn’t seem to complain, or perhaps he doesn’t have a choice.
A small girl is being driven back home by her mother from her school on the Activa. She seems happy. It reminds me of the school days. Suddenly, an unruly biker scares her by his excessively loud honking. Her mother is way too experienced to let that affect her as she nods her head disapprovingly and moves out of the way. The girl spots me in the midst of the crowd and looks on quizzically as they too speed past me.
The children are more aware and observant than the elders.

After a minute or two, an old man, pushing his laari selling nuts halts in front of me, out of breath from roaming around in the scorching sun. He looks on expectantly at the crowd on the bus-stop, his gaze lingering over me a moment longer, what with me staring at him.

I look away, again.

I am hygiene conscious.

That is a polite way of stating that I don’t consider what he sells or eats as edible.

I make a silent vow to help such people once I start earning on my own. Deep inside, a part of me doubts the sincerity of that commitment.

The old man looks around, sighs, and resumes his unending journey.

Suddenly a crowd of people starts converging onto the main road. The bus has arrived. Thus, ends another uneventful day in the life of India.

Ambition, Prosperity, Flexibility, Poverty and above all, Indifference. That is India for you.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Nishkantos and the Merry men Part-I

In memory of the erstwhile PAT/VAWT Boys...:D

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to a real lively person/persons is purely intentional...:D

Once upon a time, there lived in the Ancient realm of the West, four legendary warriors, Nishkantos, Sagaricus, Pajax and Hershules. They enjoyed an enviable reputation throughout the lands for their skill, knowledge and dedication in the field of Warcraft. They had defeated many an evil warlord on their numerous journeys through land and seas. With their strong camaraderie and mutual respect, they had been an inseparable band of brothers, and local folklore sang paeans to their friendship.

The warriors roamed to far and distant lands in order to acquire more knowledge. On the way, they used to utilise their skills to help and protect the needy and the oppressed.

One day, on another one of their journeys passing through a dark and frightening forest, they came across an old inn. They decided to call it a day, and rest in that inn. They knocked on the door.

There was no reply. After sometime, they knocked again.

“I am asleep right now; come back after two hours”, said a voice from the inside.

The warriors looked at each other in confusion. Pajax knocked again.

“Hello, dear sir, we are warriors from the West. We need a place to rest for the night.”

The door flung open immediately.

“Warriors ! Ah, welcome, welcome, do come in. I apologise for my behaviour. It is not everyday, that one receives proper warriors in such far off places. Most of the time, it is either the lunatics or the henchmen of evil warlords. By the way, I am Avidius, the innkeeper.”

“Hello, sir, I am Nishkantos, and these are my friends Pajax, Sagaricus and Hershules. We are warriors from the West. We need lodgings for the night.”

“Of course, my friends, there is plenty of food and space for all of you. I will prepare for your dinner shortly. Make yourselves comfortable”, said Avidius.

That night, the four warriors enjoyed a hearty meal with Avidius the innkeeper.

Early in the morning, they bid Avidius farewell and continued on their journey. They had walked hardly a hundred yards when they heard a shrill cry from the other side of the forest. They looked at each other. At a distance there was a sharp noise of doors and windows being shut by the old innkeeper.

Sensing trouble, and deciding not to leave their friend, the innkeeper in such a dangerous situation, they headed back to the inn and knocked.

There was no reply. They knocked again.

BAM !!!!

Avidius slammed the door open. He had a shotgun in one hand and a dagger in the other. On seeing the four warriors, the innkeeper heaved a sigh of relief.

“Äh, it is you again”, sighed the innkeeper.

“Whom were you expecting?” asked Sagaricus.

“But the werewolves, of course. Do you not know? This forest is infested by a pack of werewolves. I thought that was the reason you came here in the first place.”

“So, that is the reason why no one lives around here. But, then why do you continue to run your inn at such a place?”

“Hahaha, because someone must. Someone must put up a stand. There was a time, when I was a warrior myself. Me and my friends were travelling through this place, when we were divided, and murdered by these werewolves. I was the only survivor. On that day, I took an oath not to leave this forest until I avenge my friends.”

“And we shall help you in fulfilling that oath”, said Nishkantos.

The other three nodded in approval.

“Thank you, my friends. I am sure, that with your help, we will be able to rid this land of these cursed creatures.”

“So, how many werewolves are there, exactly?“, asked Hershules.

The pack consisted of 30 werewolves when we arrived here. I have already killed 12. That still leaves around 20 of them.

“Hmmm..But there is one problem Avidius, we have never faced a werewolf before”, said Sagaricus, to which the other three warriors nodded.

“Fear not, my dear friend, for I will teach you how and with what to hunt them with”, reassured Avidius.

Over the next few days, the four warriors worked tirelessly as Avidius taught them the correct way of killing a werewolf with a silver dagger and silver bullets. Together, they made an infallible plan to rid the land of werewolves forever.

On the fifth night, Avidius accompanied by the four warriors scourged the forests for werewolves and killed them all, thus making the forest a safer place for humans and animals alike.

The news spread like wild fire across the region. Avidius’s business started booming, and he decided to stick to his inn, and perhaps even expand to neighbouring areas. The forest was bustling with life, again.

Thus, enriched with new knowledge, the four warriors bid Avidius farewell, and continued along their journey into the forest.

Unbeknownst to them, Sandikrates, sheriff of a nearby village, followed them into the forest.

Demonizing Trump may turn him into a Messiah

I remember the time around 2015 when Trump's name first came up. Until then, many of us in the rest of the world could barely register h...