Ramblings of a madman

Circa 1965, Anandha Vikatan office. Neelakandan had been writing for over a year in the Anandha vikatan weekly under the pen name Komalam. It was was the series' first anniversary. Everyone were congratulating him as he was leaving office. "Vaazhthukkal Oi! Unga thodar nalla poitirukku, Bonus laan vangirkeer, enna panna poereer?" "Radio ku license laan vangiyachu oru varushathukku. Murphy radio with Leather bag" "Sabaash, evalo?" "500 rupees" *with a huge gasp* "Adhengappa, Ceylon radio laan kekalame" "Aama aama", Neelakandan replied with pride Neelakandan was so happy that he finally had a radio of his own. He need not go to his friends' place to listen to olichittiram of his favorite Balachander movies and listen to his favorite hindi songs in Binaca Geetmaalik. He was imagining everything in his mind and was walking to Standard electronics in thiruvellikeni. Picture courtesy Radioactivity "Enna sir...

     There is not a more imbalanced town in all of the UK than the town of Alston, when it comes to Men:women ratio . Perhaps its half namesake 'Bere Alston ' might stake claim of it. Together they have the most imbalanced Men:Women ratio (17:1) Women are rare commodity at Alston. Even the lads at the town wanted to address this issue and they set up a website appealing for the regeneration of the society at Alston. Vincent Pearle was one among them. "Hey Vinnie isn't time for yer work at the market" his dad, Tim pearle shouted at him. "Aye dad! yee mind yer own, I knaa" said an annoyed Vinnie. Who left the place as his mam was yelling " Hey pet! Take yer breakfast pet!" Tim was very worried about Vinnie, as he was growing restless and lonely day by day "Look how wor laddie is taakin" . It has been a long time since they had a father and son time.    Vinnie was working as an accountant in one of the meta...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9 ; the ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . It was the summer holidays. That time of the year when little children waged war with each other, interestingly though, only with bat and ball. “Hey! Nikumb, get the ball” His teammates yelled at him as the ball fell into one of the houses surrounding the ground. Nikumb was distraught as it was yet another match were he didn’t bowl. Moreover, it fell into Radhika Aunty’s house, that is one more reason why he refused to go. They somehow pressured him into to getting the ball. The deal was, by doing so he would get a chance to bowl in the next match. The first impression you make lasts longer than you think. When he was given the ball in his first match he ran in like Akhtar and bowled at the pace of a Venkatesh Prasad's slower one. He batted like Glen McGr...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6 ; the sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . “30 minutes more. Quick get your act together” the invigilator shouted as our Protagonist was in Trans, thinking. Within 30 minutes, whatever college life has left in him will dry like dew facing the sun. Let me tell you about our protagonist, Hari. He is a guy with all the bad luck loaded on his side. He was born on 31-12-1987 at 11.59 pm, missing the leap year by a whisker. “Mr. Madan you have a son” said the nurse. “I should go to Tirupathi, Thanks nurse”, Madan thanked her and started praying. The next minute his Mother dies and his dad’s Tirupathi trip was now to mortuary. He was absolutely pathetic when it came to academics; flunked 2 years in school; always a menace to his father. Current Status- 3 arrears to clear and that’s a...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 5 ; the fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . Disclaimer which actually claims something: The characters in this post exist only in this freak’s think tank if you find them in any water tank or temple tank or your Fishville tank or another place for that matter would like to meet them “Your time is up; my time is now now; U can’t see me; my time is now” *alarm rings* My world was awake but i was half asleep. I asked with my mouth which smelled closely to a concoction of rotten egg and onion, still dreaming about my job “ One coffee assistant”. “The guts you have, Keshu your time is really up and John Cena ain’t going to save you” As I heard my mom sound the warning bell I rushed to the bathroom; downloaded everything I uploaded last night (you must know what i mean) and rendered the bacteria homeless by...

      “ Where am I? Who are you? Where is she?” Quick give him the anesthesia, we’ve got to calm him down. “Ah aah …………” Get the woman in the ICU hurry up fellas, we have lives at stake.   We were a match made in heaven perhaps heaven on earth. We were dating for 2 years. We knew each other since high school, only 2 years back I built courage went upto him. The All star Ball game, Busch Stadium; Barack Obama threw the first pitch. I still remember as it was yesterday. I bought 2 tickets for the ball game in the box. David Wright was struck out, I stood up to her, took out the ring and said “It needs 3 strikes to get out. It took only One for you to strike me out. I love you, will you marry me”, she was in tears and said yes. That yes, that one yes made my life. My joy knew no bounds. We booked a trip to the Everglades for our honey moon.    It was sunny morning in the everglades, we teed off to the swamps just by the river to watch the alligators...

This is my first attempt at writing a short story. I hope this one fits the bill because I have mixed feelings about it. Here it goes…..    “ Time is now 11.00 AM” sounded the alarm. An arm just rose and hit on its head and went back to bed. “ Time now is 12.00 PM”, this time a leg kicked the clock out of its porch. “Time is now 1.00 pm”, a leg kicked, this time he was at the receiving end, drenched in water. “Now get up you lazy goose” his mom said. He reluctantly got up and went up grumbling, now to his laptop . “Welcome to Windows vista” it uttered. “Connecting to Local area network”….. “Loading Vasudevan991@gmail.com…..” He started checking his mail and then updated his Facebook, Orkut, Twitter and every other social networking site in the World Wide Web. He was getting tired of resting and hit the bed to rest even more.    2 years had passed since his graduation, yet there were no signs of him getting any job nor was he interested in one. His parents wer...