A Son's Vengeance!

Murderer! He shouted.

I was caught unawares as I heard the sound of my door getting slammed. I turned around and was shocked to see who was standing in front of me. A mistake that had grown up due to my reckless nature, and a mistake that I had failed to have taken care of at the right time. There was no one else at home, the maids were off and there was no way out of the room. I was cornered. He had timed it properly and waited for the right time to pounce.

Masterstroke. 

‘I’ve not come to ask you why you killed my father. I’m here to seek vengeance’, he said, his voice loud and clear in the close room. 

I knew it was of no use trying to reason with someone who had made up their mind, rather trying to reason with someone who had lost his father because of me. Still, worried about my immediate future I tried to say something but he dismissed me.

‘Please, listen to me! I accept that I was the reason your dad is no more, but it was not my decision. I was forced to carry out the orders from up above!’

He knew that the blame game would start and people would start pin-pointing others. He was prepared for this. But his investigations and sources told him that he had found the right person and that if he spared the culprit tonight, the next day his own life would be at stake. He tried not to listen to what the culprit (I) had to say and wanted to get his work done and leave at the earliest. But then his instincts told him that making this man speak would help him get some more information on the dastardly act that was committed and the injustice that was done to his father. So, after a split-second decision, he gave the culprit a chance to speak.

‘Go on, tell me who all were involved in this!’

The Spirit of Chennai!

No one can really be prepared for an emergency. Mainly because we somehow think that in the event of a calamity (god forbid), we will be spared of impact. But does luck favour us every time?

Nope.

Last Tuesday, It started pouring. Continuously. Badly. With Vengeance. The highest ever in over a century. This went on till Friday, forcing all offices to close operations bringing the entire city to a standstill. Streets were water logged and power was out in many places; mostly as preventive measures, network was down and reaching people even through landlines became an issue. Ground floors were badly damaged in many areas, forcing people to move to higher floors and in places where that luxury wasn’t available, they were forced to wait in knee/waist/neck-deep waters till help came by.

My 78 year old Grandmother said this was the worst ever floods she has witnessed in her lifetime. The damage was too much, emotionally and financially. 

Just imagine this. You are forced to live without any dependence on technology, without much human contact, learning to use every drop of water wisely, and being forced to sit in one place because of the difficulty in venturing out. Or even worse, being forced to move to another safer, higher level accommodation under someone’s mercy, leaving behind everything that was yours till a few minutes back. Imagine how it would be when you’re desperately waiting for someone to give you a piece of bread or biscuit or anything palatable. Imagine how it would be to see everything that you saved and built over these years slowly sink in the waters, in front of your eyes.

Image Courtesy : Google (Not mine!)

Home is where the heart is!

My father had planned for a vacation right after my sister completed her 12th exams. Dad wanted her to chill out after a hectic year of preps and exams and preps and exams. We were in Goa, in a wonderful villa overlooking the sea amidst a beautiful property. It was around the third day of our holiday, when we were relaxing after a para-sailing experience that we noticed my sister was slightly down. When dad asked her what was wrong, she said that she was home-sick. Mom, Dad and I were surprised and did not know how to react, considering that the very people who were at home were present at that moment. She said she liked the holiday but was beginning to miss home. 

Image Courtesy: FreeDigitalPhotos

There was this friend of mine at work who never looked forward to the holidays like how other hostelers do. She had opted for an individual room and though she preferred staying away from the hostel gangs, she was someone who would keep herself occupied some way or the other. She always used to tag along with us city dwellers and despite the considerable distance involved she used to manage and ask us not to worry. She used to come with us for movies and shopping and for anything and everything. Sometimes she used to spend time by herself cooking and reading and inviting us to her place. She maintained her place very well and she took special care in decorating each and every corner. She even told me that she looked forward to spending time in her 1BHK room than her hometown because this place made her comfortable and made her look forward to going home after a hard day’s work.

Home is where the heart is. But is it your home or home away from home?