The Moment - Short Film

Sharing the teasers of 'The Moment', a short film that I am working on these days. Hope you like it. Let me know your views!

Teaser-1



Teaser-2

We Miss You, Brother!

Was it not yesterday we went out for dinner together? Then why is it that today I don't see you around?

Was it not yesterday that we bashed each other in the game? Then why is it that today there is no one to pick up the other controller?

Was it not yesterday that we had planned to zip around Mumbai exploring new places in your car? Then why is it that today you car lies in the parking without it's owner?

Was it not yesterday that we pulled your leg about all the gals whom you hit on? Then why is it that today I can't make myself heard?

Was it not yesterday that I clicked your snaps and promised to share it this time for sure? Then why is it that today I can't find you to collect them?

Was it not yesterday that we had planned to catch up on all the movies this weekend? Then why is it that today I dread at the thought of going to the theatre?

Was it not yesterday that we had planned to have a ball at the wedding of our common friend? Then why is it that today I cringe at the thought of celebrations without you?

Was it not yesterday that we were spreading news about the insane dowry prospective bride's fathers were luring you with? Then why is it that today I have no one to take offense of it?

Was it not yesterday you were right here, with all of us? Then why is it that today you are with the angels and one among them?

The memories of all the yesterday's with you. Memories of you are all that I have today! Will miss you today, tomorrow and forever!



I lost a dear friend of mine, Naresh Kodithala, on the fateful morning of April 24th. He was only 26 and his death could have been easily averted if some bloody environmentalists had not got the railing at Tiger Leap Point (Lonavala) removed. A slip to death was not what he deserved. It's not what any youngster deserves. And as we speak, the spot waits for it's next victim. His sister has blogged about it(http://sangeethakodithala.blogspot.com/2011/05/conservation-at-what-cost.html) and wrote to the env ministry at - http://moef.nic.in/modules/contact-ministry/contact-ministry/ Pls write in your comments too for them to take notice and act. Let's try our bit and avoid more lives being lost. A die hard fan of Sachin Tendulkar, the 'King' as he was known in his friends circle departed for his heavenly abode on God's birthday! We continue to miss him each moment!

The Eyes of God

It had been ages since I had last opened the big trunk, a dumpyard of all my college memories. Infact, I had almost forgotten about it's existence had it not been Amma's persistence to search for an old college magazine that had me on the cover page.

"I need documented proof. Only that would suffice. I don't want an iota of doubt in anyone's mind whether I was saying the truth or not. I know Vimala thinks that I was simply bragging like the other ladies do. I want to see the look on her face when she finds out that my son was an achiever in college days", Amma kept mumbling while going about with her household chores and here I was, dusting off the layers of dust that had accumulated on the surface of this trunk over the years, in my quest for the elusive magazine. Mothers have this strange habit of pitting their children against others in social gatherings and outweigh the competition, if any, by piling up their child's achievements. And if you have just happened to move to a new city, where Amma's new friends had no background of her illustrious kid, then it becomes all the more important for her to set the perspective right from the start. Amma had done the same while catching up with her new gang in this city and had left no stone unturned in glorifying my college achievements. She had promised her friends that next time around, she will get the college magazine with my mention for everyone to see. And the venue for the next party was our house, scheduled for today. While I was irriated with this futile exercise, on the other hand I was happy to see Amma make friends really quick in the new city and it was nice to see her finally smile after a long time.

"Atchoooooooo", I sneezed out loud. There was a thick layer of dust on the trunk, giving it a brownish hue with no traces of the orignal black colour that it was supposed to be. It had been 5 years since I had completed my MBA. The last time I had opened this trunk was back then, to empty my entire cupboard into this big trunk and bid my final adieu to Delhi. Infact, this trunk was a dumpyard of all the memories that I had accumulated over those 2 years. The good memories, the bad ones and then the ones I could never categorize - the memories that Swati gifted me and had her in them. I opened the trunk with a heavy heart and the first thing that I saw was her photograph. Her eyes seemed to be looking straight into mine, piercing my soul, as if asking a thousand questions at the same time. I suddenly went weak in my knees, felt my heart growing heavy and sat down, staring hard at the photograph. It was not that I had not expected to find her along with other stuff I had dumped in the trunk, but I was amazed at the sheer effect it had on me 5 years down the line. It turned out to be the first thing I came across. Swati Desai had left me awestruck, yet again!

"Is this seat occupied?", a blunt female voice greeted my ears as I was shuffling through the pages of the lastest issue of X-Men inside the college library. "Yes! Please", I replied without looking up at the owner of the voice. She was not done yet and continued, "Is that a comic book? You have time to read one? In the middle of this mayhem called the School of Management? You in first year as well, right?", a barrage of questions followed as soon as she had settled down. I slammed the book shut and looked at her irritatedly. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind for breaking my pace. Our eyes met before I could utter a single word. I went blank and the last remnants of thoughts in my mind also evaporated. Swati Desai's hazel eyes had me imprisoned the very first time itself! Looking straight into mine, piercing my soul. As if asking a thousand questions at the same time. Those pair of eyes. The most beautiful pair I had ever come across.

A cockroach flying out of the trunk managed to land on me, breaking my thoughts and transporting me back to present from the past. I shrugged it off and went back to the contents of the trunk. I avoided the photograph, placing it towards my side and digged into the other contents of the trunk. Amma's guests would drop in any moment and I had no time to wander in the fantasy world of memories. The ghosts of the past had been excorsised and I would be ruining it all by revisiting a past that we had mutually buried.

It was Swati's decision to move on. After spending the most beautiful two years of our lives together and despite being madly in love with each other, it took her only a phone call to break all ties with me. When we were just about to begin our careers and were enjoying our last big vacations at home, Swati was busy drifting away from me and all of us at the School of Management. Despite my desperate attempts to get in touch with her, I could not. I feared her staunchly traditional family had found out about our relationship and were forcing her to break ties. She dispelled my doubts over the phone call and stated that it was her decision and that her family had nothing to do with it. The phone call shattered me for life, and I still have not come to terms with that. My anger had not yet simmered down despite all these years. I had been gathering myself over the past many years, but today it all came crashing down. No one ever knew the cause of her strange behaviour, and the fact that she did the same with all her friends was the only solace. A comforting thought that I was not the only one. Disconnecting herself from all social networking sites was another example of her steel like resolve to drift away from everything that would remind her of the past. Swati Desai became a distant memory for everyone and over time she faded from everyone's mind.

"Vivekkkkkk", Amma's voice echoed upstairs, "Come down. Look who all is here to meet you". "Damn", I cursed myself. If the magazine was not enough, now this torture of smiling throughout the glorious introduction Amma would bestow me with loomed overhead. "Vivek!", Amma was calling for me again at the top of her voice, "Come fast beta. Aunties are waiting for you". I washed my face and quickly changed into a Kurta before rushing downstairs. I entered the hall and greeted everyone present there. "Aaaahhhh...Here he is. The shy boy. My son Vivek", Amma started humbly, "He is the reason I am here in Bhopal. He got transferred from Mumbai and has been posted here now. Now what else will a widow do than follow her single son around in this old age. Companies like to pack off good guys to different locations frequently. And his credentials haven't helped him much in getting away from the limelight. Vivek was a brilliant child throughout. He was even a gold medallist at the School of Management". All of a sudden, an 8 year old girl who had accompanied her mother to this party got excited and nudged her mom, "Wow. School of Management. That's where Swati Didi went too, didn't she Maa?"

The name sent shivers down my spine. "Swati?", I choked, "Swati Desai? You know her? Is she in Bhopal? Is she married?", I couldn't control myself. Amma looked amused at this sudden acquaintance and turn of events. The kid hung her face and looked towards her Mom. "Yes Beta. Swati Desai. Daughter of Mr. Santosh & Kamala Desai, our family friends. They used to be our closest friends and were here in Bhopal till 5 years back. We have seen the family in their happy times, their proudest moment being when Swati got through the School of Management, and their extremely worse times when Swati was diagnosed with that life threatening disease. They got to know of it pretty late and there was little that doctors could do to save that angel of a girl. The final 6 months were really tough for the entire family. The chemotherapies had sapped out everything from Swati and she had isolated herself from everything and everyone. Imagine the plight of her parents to watch their young daughter die before their very eyes. Talking about eyes, my daughter Krishna here was blinded by an accident when she was still an infant and needed a matching donor to see the world again. Swati was very close to Krishna and was adamant that her eyes be donated after her death, since it was a perfect match to Krishna's. Swati had the most beautiful eyes and in her final moments, even though her face had gone frail and her hair bald, it were her eyes that was full of life. I still can't beleive Swati is not with us today. But she lives on and her eyes still see the world through my daughter Krishna. Her parents come once in a year to see Krishna and find solace by looking into her eyes. We owe everything to Swati for the gift she has left behind for Krishna".

I had gone pale. I walked towards Krishna in a state of trance, knelt down holding her, wiping off the stream of tears that were running continuously down my cheeks. The next moment, our eyes met yet again. Those hazel eyes, looking straight into mine and piercing my soul. As if asking a thousand questions at the same time. Swati Desai had left me awestruck, yet again!

Dawn of a decade!

From School to College life,
From the confines of my home to the four walls of an Engg hostel,
From family to batch-mates who became family
From 'Ghar ka khaana' to 'Hostel Mess Experiments',
From reading about them getting ragged to being ragged,
From being the king of my room to sharing my hostel room,
From clean toilets to stinky hostel ones,
From being dependent to becoming independent,
From standing in queues to withdraw money from cashier to ATM lines,
From getting bamboozled with Microprocessors to being attracted towards Marketing,
From being a bachelor of Technology to a master of Business,
From graduation to post graduation,
From a sleepy town to the Capital,
From releasing pressure to being in pressure,
From mismanagement to time management,
From friends to friends who became my lifeline,
From campus life to my first job,
From watching advertising campaigns to creating and executing one,
From consuming brands to working on brand,
From a shy, stammering school boy to a confident corporate guy,
From winning awards for writing to winning big ones for my work,
Last 2 days of a decade full of wonderful journeys.
Raising a toast to the best decade of my life, 2000-2010!

Happy New Year :-)

Kinginni - The Anklet

*P.S.: This entry has been declared the winner at the 'Moonlit lounge' contest at TWL. Click here for the judge's comments. Presenting the winning short story of the picture based story writing contest held at Writers Lounge. Yeyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!! :D :D*
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This is my entry for a picture based story writing contest held at Writers Lounge. We were required to write a 500 word story on the picture used in the story below. Hope you all like my attempt. Long time since I sat down to write a story. Still rusty rusty :-)

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KINGINNI - The Anklet

“When we die, we become stars. Forever shining and up there for people we love most”, Ammalu told her 5 year old girl.

“But Amma, you won’t even be able to see or hear me from far up there”, Kinginni frowned.

“Molu, you were named Kinginni which in our native tongue means the anklet. The sound of these anklets will inform me. There is always an invisible umbilical cord that connects a mother with her daughter, no matter how far she is”, Ammalu tried reassuring her daughter, wiping away tears which she had so valiantly fought for the past few months.

This conversation was still fresh in Kinginni’s mind though it had taken place two years back. Ammalu had passed away that very year, leaving Kinginni with her maternal grandmother and fisherman brother Velan. For the last two years, like a ritual Kinginni would head to the rocky beach towards the other end of her adopted home on every birthday of hers and converse with the brightest star closest to the moon. The sound made by her anklets would echo all around announcing her arrival. She would open her heart out to this twinkling star and share every single thing that had happened in the last one year. And the star would shine brightly while Kinginni smiled, fade out when she cried, twinkle at her complaints and bathe Kinginni in the cool moonlight when she would yearn for her mothers touch.

Today was her birthday. But things had gone terribly wrong. Kinginni had lost her anklets two days back while playing near the beach. She had spent the last two days crying. The new white frock her uncle gifted her this morning had failed to cheer her up. It had been raining heavily for the past few days and today was no different. As soon as it stopped raining towards the night, Kinginni made a dash to her spot. There was an eerie silence all around and the place sounded unfamiliar today without the echoes of her anklet. With a heavy heart, she glanced towards the sky. She let out a gasp on seeing the sky without a single star. Tears swelled up in her eyes and she rushed back unable to handle the shock.



She ran along the beach with the stream of tears gushing down her cheeks. She felt something prick her legs which made her stop. She had almost dismissed it as a thorn. But the shine of that object made her dig the surface of the sand only to reveal her anklets. Kinginni could not believe it. She thanked the sea for this gift on her birthday and rushed back to the spot, the anklet adorning her leg. The place echoed in rhythm to her pace as she sprinted to the corner. With a smile on her lips, she looked towards the sky in anticipation. And like God’s play, a strong wind blew the black clouds above revealing a bright twinkling star besides the moon.

The Moment

"Ishitaaaaaaa...Ohhh My goddddd!! You here???...at this hour!! How??” Rahul was rubbing his eyes in amazement.

He could not get himself to believe that Ishita was here at his place at this unearthly hour. But Ishita had always been like that. Crazy to the core. And this was not the first time that Ishita had climbed up all the way to his room on the first floor. She had earlier surprised him on Valentine’s Day last year. She knew very well that Rahul slept with his balcony door wide open. He could not get himself to sleep without feeling the whiff of fresh air that the open door and windows brought in. He always knew that Ishita was a crazy girl, but her daredevil stunt on last Valentine’s Day had wiped away any iota of doubt he had in his mind. But that was last year. It seemed like ages ago. Things had not worked out the way they wanted to. It was a mutual decision to move on. The fact that Ishita's dad got transferred to Mumbai also didn’t help much.

"Ishitaaa!! Good Lord! I can't believe you are here. I thought we would never meet again. I have been missing you like crazy", Rahul's voice was choking with emotions. He had got over their break up with much difficulty. How could he forget all that suffering he went through just at the sight of his long lost love? He tried to control himself. The twinkle of love in his eyes vanished.

He stared hard at Ishita, "You never even bothered to call me up even once in all these months. I could not because no one here knew of your whereabouts. But at least you could have called me up. I have been pestering your best friend Roop all this while to get your contact details. She was adamant. And here you are.....turning up on my balcony without notice...just like that...and you feel that I will still be waiting for you here with arms wide open? Go away bhondu...sorry...Ishita...I wish not to go through the pains of parting all over again"

Rahul felt that Ishita wanted to say something, but the volley of words from Rahul's side had made her stop in her motions. She just looked at him lovingly and gave him her dimpled smile. He had prayed all these months for this moment. This one fleeting moment which he had thought would never come again in his life. His last wish had been to see her flash her dimples for him, for one last time. The moment that he wished to frame in his mind and take it along with him right to his grave. But life does not always turn out the way you wish it to. When you feel that everything is going fine, it transforms itself into an unknown entity. Rahul felt his heart melt when he saw Ishita turn and walk away. He could not see her depart like that. He tossed around in bed and buried his face in the pillows. He cried his heart out. It had taken every bit of his inner strength to show Ishita the door.

Rahul forced himself back to sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed for almost two hours. He could not get himself to sleep. There was this feeling of guilt within. He woke up with a start. Why had Ishita turned up all of a sudden today? She was here for a reason. She wanted to say something. What could be it? It was then that realization dawned on him. It was 25th Feb today!! Their anniversary! Ishita had remembered. She had come down all the way to patch up. His face lit up. All the hatred that had accumulated over the past many months faded away. He cursed himself for being rude to Ishita. He ran towards the balcony to catch her on her way down. She was nowhere in sight. Rahul rushed to his table and grabbed his bike keys. His phone rang that very instant.

"Hello...Rahul. Hi, Roop here. Hope i did not disturb you at this hour?"

"Rooop...No yaar...have you gone mad?? And i know what you have called for. I knew she would have reached your place by now. Hand over the phone to Ishita...right now...I scolded her a lot yar...Plz hand over!"

"Rahul....It's your anniversary today......right Rahul? Ishita had waited....waited for this day to patch things up with you. I think you should know this. She always missed you..........God! Give me strength to say this.....She is no longer with us Rahul.....She met with an accident on her way to my place. She.......passed away...She....left all of us....a few minutes ago"

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This story was selected by BlogAdda as one of their 5 "Spicy Saturday Picks" of the Indian blogosphere, on Feb 28th.

This is what they had to say on my story at "The Writers Lounge":

Who : Sandeep Balan for Writer’s Lounge

What : The Moment
Spicy : Sandeep in this very well crafted post speaks about a moment which made a difference in the relationship and lives of the people involved, The post is sweet, touching and simply awesome! That is all we would like to say about this ‘Spicy Saturday Pick’!

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Rainolism

Rains are here again! When it rains in Mumbai, it pours. A hell lot of technological advances has created a lot of alternate 'things to do' in this season, apart from the obvious 'getting drenched'. Social media featuring prominently amongst them.

• Facebookers to the rescue of meteoro'logical' department (Category: Social Media) I can't remember the last time we saw 'logic' in the department's predictions. Today, the number of friends you have on social media platform helps you plan. For those who got drenched on their way to office, how many times do you have to be reminded to check the status updates of your friends before making plans! If there are status updates remotely close to 'I got drenched', 'stuck in a jam at Andheri', 'Milan subway is clogged', 'Just walked through knee deep waters to reach office' etc., then you know what to expect. So look out for the update. If your friends consider themselves even remotely 'cool', you can bank on them to update their status via mobile of his/her herculean task of beating the rains at their own game. 'Sharing' is your ticket to social acceptance.
• Facebookers to the rescue of News Channels (Category: Social Media) It's considered hip to be the first to update 'It's raining.' The fact that you are not blind to see it yourself does not matter because your friends had the grey cells to identify that it is actually water coming down from the clouds above. And like Archemedes, they emphatically updated their status message with this discovery to stake their claim of being the most clued on. Life is a race brother, and Facebook is the Olympics. An optional 'I love rains. Don't you?' is a good conversation starter.
• The Kite Runner (Category: Things 'to do' in office) Buy a car, dude. And wish for the rains to come down heavily. And then pray for the source of your attention to leave office when it is raining the heaviest. There are a lot of kites without strings flying around, especially in this season. Glances will turn into smiles, then to conversations and finally to the coffee table, if you are willing to offer a ride back home. Mumbai rains, Mumbai traffic and Mumbai's auto/taxi drivers combine to make a dangerous concoction and you can play the antidote! Rains can bring out the gold digger in you. Time to get working!
• The age old adage (Category: Lifestyle) Come rains, and it's 'Late to Office, Early to home' for Mumbaikars. Who says Pub's defined the term 'happy hours'?

Enjoy the rains!