This post is for you!

This post is for all those amazing daddies out there!

This post is for those men who ain’t just a father but also a dad.

Dedicated to the men who kill their wishes in order to fulfil the outrageous demands of their little ones. Who go without bread in order to satisfy their kids hunger.

Dedicated to the men who return home each night, after a tiring day at the office, and make sure their little one is sound asleep. Who remove their shoes and tip toe into their room just to give them the “promised goodnight kiss”.

Dedicated to the fathers who bear the tortures of their “idiot-useless-and-dumb” boss, just to make sure their angels don’t face the harsh complexities of the weather. Who work hard not for themselves but for their innocent kids.

Dedicated to the daddies who go through thick and thin to ensure their daughter is safe and happy.

Dedicated to the fathers who let their funds go into a Harley, so that his son doesn’t face embarrassment before his friends.

Dedicated to the fathers in the old age home who never knew that the child they sacrificed for would turn into a horrendous wretch.

Dedicated to the fathers who lost their sons and daughters either on the border or in the hands of evil in laws.

Dedicated to the men who could never reap the fruit of fatherhood. Who were deprived of this gift of nature but would have given their heart and soul to be a dad.

Dedicated to the future dads out there, struggling in the hands of the cruel world.

But most importantly!

Dedicated to my papa who’s been there for me always. I know you never say …but you are there! Thank you for everything! And sorry…for the wrongs I’ve done so far!

Love you!

Happy fathers day to all 🙂

PS: I WANNA GO ANNONYMOUS !

Destiny – a work of fiction!

I was 12 yrs old back then when I wrote this! It was a piece I wrote to be featured in a local community magazine! 


“Haven’t I told you a hundred times that I am NOT MADE OUT OF ACTOR STUFF? Don’t you just get it, mom? I’m a director. A DIRECTOR

“So you’re saying you can’t even fulfill one dream of mine.”

“It’s not about that. I mean I don’t act and never will. WOULD you spare me?”

“Vanessa, dear, everyone’s destined to be something as you are to be an actress. Believe me…….” But she’s cut off when Vanessa’s phone rings

Mumbling something about it being past her to talk to her mom she walks out to attend the call.

“Vanessa, just get to the studio, hurry!” an anxious voice urges.

Once in the studio room, she looks around at the grim faces of her crew. One of them comes forward and speaks almost inaudibly, “Sabrina’s met with an accident. Broken a leg.”

It was enough to freeze Vanessa to a state of shock. What did he mean by that? Sabrina was their protagonist! And tonight was the inter college competition! And she was the director! The first play directed by Vanessa!  Was her career going to end before it ever started?

 “Now what?” someone asked.

“It’s all over.”

“Think of the money we’ve spent!”

“The actress can’t be substituted at the last moment, I mean…”

“Nothing doing. Vanessa you’re our new lead role. Just get prepared.” This last opinion snapped her out of her frozen state. This was said by their principle, Dan Grimoire.

“NO WAY. I can’t ….” Vanessa started but was cut off.

“I didn’t ask you, I ordered. What’s the problem? I mean, you have the looks, you’re the director so you know the dialogues, and that’s all you need. I won’t take a no. Do it or we’ll be disqualified. Think about it, you’ll lose a chance to show your skills and so will your co-artists here.”

She stared at him. Chewing her lower lip she thought of the odd coincidence, in the morning she had a fight about not acting and here she was, on the verge of accepting to do so. Well, but could she do it? What if she screwed it up? Then again her mother, being a psychic, had predicted that she would be an actress….. No way, what was she thinking? She wanted to be a director and she was. But if she didn’t act, she won’t be, as Dan had threatened.

She nods her head and then says, “But I’m not responsible if it doesn’t turn out to be good.”

The producer agrees, asking, “I hope you don’t have a stage fright.”

Shaking her head, she walks away to get her costume together.

Finally, the time comes to show her skills. She walks on the stage to take her position. The curtain rises, she takes a deep breath, repeating in her mind again and again, “Don’t overdo it. Don’t overdo it. Don’t…

Once she starts, she doesn’t stop. As it is she knew the dialogues by heart. All she had to do was be expressive. And just then she noticed her mother sitting in the audience, nevertheless, she kept up her acting thinking, yeah mom you won! But am I good?

Once all that was over, she went backstage. Her cheeks pink under the rough. But before she could do anything other than sip water, she was pushed on stage again. On the stage, every lead actress from all the plays acted today were lined up. By the talks, it appeared to be something about some silly award that she was sure she was not going to win.

“Really, now I know how hard it is to act. I vow never to be rude to the artists again.” she muttered under her breath.

“And the award for the best actress goes to….” the host announced dramatically, “Miss Vanessa Maguire!”

It took a moment for Vanessa to realize that her name was being called out.  Ok, she thought, all this is getting pretty dramatic. Was she hallucinating or did she really get an award for the unprepared acting which she thought was horrible? Looking at her mother’s eyes that screamed ‘I told you’, the latter one was probably the truth. And these people were not fools that meant her acting was not horrible, she told herself.

She walked forward to receive her prize and smiled at the audience. She raised her trophy, and looked at her mother with a tear trailing down her cheek and mouthed the words ‘ for you’. Yes, she thought secretly, you were right mom, everyone is destined to be something and that something for me’s this.

A Villain with a Heart

I wrote it when I was 11 !!


My eyes misted as I clapped for my son who marched up the stage to accept his medal. I was really proud for the deeds my son had done as a military commander for the country but the cause of my tears was the memory of a friend, Jackhans_7507

Jack was an excellent shooter and a famous (in the underworld) personality. How did we meet? Well, he saved my life.

It was a chilly morning of December when I was walking down the Eve Street, unaware of the danger in store. The locality was deserted and except me there were only a couple of other peoplea young man and an old womanon the street. Everything was quiet when suddenly a shot rang out, shattering the stillness. In an instant the young man had his gun out, aimed at the old women. The woman, surprisingly, lost her limpness and ran for cover behind a wall (and she too had a gun) – she turned out to be a man. I shrieked as someone grabbed me from behind and blindfolded me. I was carried in, perhaps, a car to some musty place, which turned out to be the dungeons of the Webster House. My blinds were removed but my hands and feet were securely tied and then I was thrown in one of the
cells.

Sweat poured through my body, all sorts of thoughts passing my mind. I looked around myself and found to my surprise that there were a dozen more people in the vault, all unconscious. They were all VIPs (except a couple of girls who were simple citizens like me)relations of different ministers whom I knew by faces .For a minute I felt honored to meet such people but then again the thoughts of the gangsters filled my head. Otherwise, the room vault was completely bare and was illuminated by the glow of the only light bulb present there. I tried to wriggle out of my bonds but they were tied quite professionally. At that moment the metallic door opened to reveal a lot of rogues.

They were all dressed in black and were carrying AK-47s in their shoulder holsters. I got scared when they started towards me but they didn’t even seem to notice me and passed on. They carried the unconscious figures of the VIPs out one by one and closed the door. Now there were only three of us left in the cell- the two, partially conscious, girls and myself. Once they were fully recovered I tried to talk them into telling me what the whole affair was about but they were too scared to utter a single word.

After a few hours of silence, there came a grating sound and the door opened. In came a man, closing the door behind him. He was dressed fully in black like all other thugs; he advanced towards me with a sharp knife gleaming in his hand. I screamed with fright assuming that he was planning to kill me. The man gave me a sharp look with a finger on his lips; I understood that I had to be quiet. When he came a little closer, I gasped in recognition- he was none other than the underworld face whose picture was on the wanted list of criminals on the papers, famous by the name of the Jackal.

He walked up to me with the sharp blade, and with one stroke of his arm…

I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come but instead I felt the grips of ropes loosen around my wrists. I slowly reopened my eyes and gazed at him who was setting the other girls free. My mind still wasn’t ready to accept what was happening, I was sure that he was going to assassinate me but my heart opposed it as his eyes showed concern though he appeared to be ruthless.

The man motioned us all to sit and said, “The doors are heavily guarded at present. It’ll be easier to get out at noon, the guards at that shift are easier to handle.” I sat close to him and asked in a hesitating manner, “Aren’t you the-“

“Jackal, yeah!” he said interrupting me. I sat quietly waiting for an explanation but when none came I again inquired, “What’s going on here and how come you saving lives instead destroying…I…please, no offence or anything intended.”

“None taken. And about your question, the whole thing’s this- these people are an international group of terrorists, want money and their dangerous fellas set free from the clutches of the police. They’re holding important people as hostages. And about why I’m helpin’ you’ll- it’s a long story but in short” he sighed “my sister, the only one I’ve ever had to call a family, was abducted and was brutally murdered by a group of outlaws”, for a moment his eyes were filled with misery and sorrow but in no time, he regained his ruthless attitude and resumed, “I can’t see innocent children and women killed and I came forward. And my reputation helped me to gain the terrorists trust, so here I am.”

“So you mean to say that you entered as a terrorist but are actually working for the government?”

“Not. For. The government.” He said this slowly yet furiously. “I told you how much I cared for my sister Laura. When she was in danger I was not there to save her; and I find… peace on saving the innocent. And the government is actually after me, ‘cause I’m a wanted criminal, am I not?”

A criminal saving women and children, weird.

I sat for a while, looking at the man and then extended my hand, “I’m Jane Maria Christie.” He gave a quick two fingered salute saying, “Jack Sullivan”

After a sleepy hour or so, Jack stood up, asking us to do the same. “Now, follow me and remember-if there are any shootouts, stick to the ground. Clear?” We all nodded.

With gesturing to be quiet, he moved out of the door with all of us tailing him. After turning a corner we followed him at a brisk pace towards the door, but Jack came to an abrupt stop and to our horror, we were face to face with one of the assassins.

He, at first ignored our expression and gave Jack a friendly smile and extended his palm, asking for a pass. From Jack’s expression it was clear that he wasn’t expecting anything of this sort. When Jack was unable to provide him with what he wanted, his expression became grave. He looked first at Jack and then at us, and at once took out his gun. Then there was quite a lot of shooting between a few terrorists and Jack. As instructed, we went down on our bellies and crawled all the way to the door.

“Run, run for your lives, go to gate 4, hurry” came the orders from the wounded Jack as he was still blocking the door so that the terrorists couldn’t follow us. Unwillingly, we left him to fight for himself and ran out. Whatsoever, we were being followed by a couple of gangsters. Once outside, we saw that the atmosphere was tense as if preparing for a war. We saw on a city map displayed on a board that gate 4 was a military base and was not too far from where we were standing. We ran at top speed, stopping only once to catch our breath. We finally reached the base (where one of my companions fainted out of tiredness) where noticing our conditions, we were carried inside.

In a week, we came to know that the terrorists were under control-all because of our army-and the VIPs were located.

The next morning’s paper showed that several of the gangsters were found dead on the door of the Webster House (I knew it was Jack’s work). It also explained that the army men were under cover, patrolling the city (like the old woman who turned out to be a man) and it even revealed that the Jackal was found dead too, outside the dungeons.

Every one still thinks that he was a companion of the terrorists. No one knows the truth about the daring hero. Now, 20 yrs have passed but the incident is still fresh in my mind. I’m really happy to think that I got a chance to know such a great person who gave up his life just for three citizens whom he didn’t even know. This was not exactly a friendly meeting but to me he would always be a friend-a savior.

There are many villains in this world, but this one was different …he was a villain with a heart.