Some 'More' on the latest project!

Dear reader,
I have decided to name My next will be named as 'Revenge Digitalized'. It will be written from perspective of two people, one from a father and the other from the son. What makes it interesting is the little cross cutting of ideas of the father and the son. Moreover, the son has the ability to break the fourth wall ( Talk directly to the readers). All these things I am experimenting for the first time. Please keep supporting me. And one more thing, thank you for more than 7,000 views to my content.  Its a huge number and I hope this number keeps increasing. Frankly, I never imagined such a huge number. That too without a Times of India's front page ad!  Please follow me the next time you like one of my posts to show some more support! And one more thing,  I will not be selling my blog to adsense as suggested by google (google's  advertising website) only for money. I don't want money. I only want love!







   Below is some more from my latest.

‘Car crash kills two’ I read out the headline of the newspaper to my little six year old daughter. I had promised her that I will teach her how to read her the newspaper so that she can show off her extraordinary skills (heavy coughs) to her friends. 

I didn’t know whether it was appropriate to start with such a news but I could find anything else more interesting. Accidents are not a very common thing in Jammu, my city. Wait, I forgot to introduce myself. I Kartik Kumar am the head of marketing department of Hewlett Packard (known as H.P) computers of the Jammu head office. I live with my daughter, son, wife and parents. And my fate to say, I am ‘Middle class’.

‘What?’ she asked me puzzled scratching her little chin. Looks like kids don’t understand road accidents.

‘I said that a car crash has killed two people. Oh wait; the two were father and son. Poor fellows’ I said lost in my own pity and poor world. What a life did god gave to them.

‘Dad see. My friend Astha, Shobha and Amishka know how to read a newspaper. Teachers praise them and all the class clap’s for them. I also want to be like them but looks like you cant teach me. I better ask bhaiya’ she said with anger in her eyes. Frankly, for that second even I was scared of my daughter. She was behaving like an idiot, I guess.

Thinking of an idiot, my phone rang. It was from my boss, the General Manager of operations, Sh. S.K Iyer . Frankly, he was an idiot. A south Indian from Chennai when gets transferred to a city like Jammu and adapt to the north Indian way of living gives you my boss.

‘Yellow’ he said in his thick south Indian accent. His taste in food must’ve changed but his accent didn’t. He wanted to say ‘Hello’.

‘Good morning sir’ I said as I don’t know why, stood up from my chair startling my daughter.
‘Good morning eh? Martik..’
‘Sir it is Kartik’ I said. That bastard had a terrible habit of acting to forget my name to show how much unimportant I am in his life.
‘Whatever. So Kartik, is today Eid?’ he said. I was puzzled and glanced at the calendar on the opposite wall.
‘No sir’
‘Diwali?’
‘No sir’ I said. Bastard should have a calendar in his room. Why was he asking me such things?
‘Yidiot, then why are you not here’ he shouted. It felt worse than a dog’s bark. I hurriedly checked my watch. It was 11:40 and I was late by half an hour.
‘I will fire you!’ he again shouted.
‘And I will set you on fire’ I whispered as images of me pouring gasoline on a hand cuffed and tied with a chair Iyer appeared in my mind. He tried to speak but was gagged. Suddenly I took out a matchstick and set him on fire. A devilish smile appeared on my face.

‘What? I didn’t hear it. Bastard come to aafice. I will see you today’ he spoke distracting me from my thoughts. Thanks heaven he didn’t hear me.
‘Yes sir coming’ I said as the ignorant bastard hung up.

‘Meenal!’ I shouted. In a fraction of seconds my wife appeared in the room with a tray with my blood pressure medicines and a glass of milk filled above its capacity almost about to spill.

‘No time for this. Where is Lakshman?’ I asked her. Lakshman, my useless son which had a habit of sleeping through days and I guess nights too.

‘He is sleeping’ She said politely with a smile.

‘Bastard! He told me that he will help me with that god damn presentation today’ I slammed my wrist on the table. My daughter who had just gone into sleep woke up with a jerk, in her seat. I work like a donkey and my son sleeps like a horse!

‘Cool down ji. Cool down’ she said, ‘Have you taken your medicines?’
‘No. Thanks for reminding me’ I said with a smile and galloped down the tablets, taking a sip of the milk. Who needs a personal assistant when you have such a caring and lovely wife!

I wore my bag and waved my daughter and my wife good bye. I sat on my old rusted, 1998 model bike and kicked it to ignition. I was lucky it started on my third attempt; else it takes me about a dozen. With smile on my face, I drove towards my office.

‘Wake up Lakshman!’ my mom said shaking me while I was on my trip to the Kennedy Space Centre, US. Well to be particular, in dreams.

‘What time is it?’ I asked as I rolled my eyes.

’12 of the evening. Your dad was too much angry today because of your lazy, late waking up habits’ She said.

‘Tell me something new mom. And I am just sixteen. It is the age of waking late and partying hard’ I said.

‘You are missing something’

‘Umm.. Showing off your new clothes to friends?’ I guessed.

‘No! Its studying. You don’t study much. Your dad said you told him that you will help him with a presentation today but you didn’t. That is not good’

Frankly, I am just like you. Yes you, the one holding that god damn novel and laughing on my situation. The only difference is that I am a little screwed, middle class and wait a teenager too