Dilemma of a Murder

It was a dark night, and I was walking in a lane which didn't have any road lights. Dogs were barking not from far. Though I am quite a coward but there barking were not stirring me at all. My face did not any have any emotions, it was passive and non reactive. To my dismay I remember carrying a knife in my hand. This knife, which was not a normal kitchen knife, was at least 10 inch long. The scene was running like a movie sequence in front of my eyes.

I entered in the house, as if everything was well planned and taught. I took a left to reach the bedroom. It was pitch black. No lights were on, and it was perfect for me kill him. I entered into his room. He was sleeping soundly. He was chuckling as if he was dreaming something nice and funny.  But I was not interested in his dreams.

I was here to kill someone but I did not know the reason. My heart felt hatred and pity together. Courage and fear were fighting to take hold of my mind. I was trembling, but on the other side I was powerful. It was impossible to find the state of my body and mind.

While I was standing there, someone deep inside me asked me to finish the task.

“What is the task?” I asked. Even before completing my question I felt heat on my face as if someone has slapped me hard.

“Kill the man who is sleeping on the bed.” Someone commanded. I wanted to ask “Has he done something wrong?” but I could not as if my mind has lost powers even to speak to itself after the slap.

As if my mind was overpowered, I reached to the bed and raised my hand high enough to strike with maximum power. The knife came down and inserted into the white sheet first, then body and finally stopped at bone. There was a shriek, a shriek which was mix of pain, horror, shock, and dismay. But it didn't impact my intention. With the intentions of finishing the job, I raised my hand again. But in the mean time he turned and now he was facing me. Somehow I was able to see his face.

It was me who was lying on the bed. “What the hell?” I said. “Why do you want to kill me?” My replica said. Even before finishing his sentence he vomited the blood.

I woke up shrieking from my dream. “Oh fuck” I had been dreaming. I put on the lights and see red substance around my bed. It was my blood. My white sheets were blood red now, though there was neither any pain nor any wound. I was not sure what was happening.

Was I still dreaming or awake? Or was I dreaming inside my dream? I was weak, speechless, and clueless.

Autobiography of an illiterate MCP

My name is Brij Kishor Chaturvedi, my fellow mates and officers call me Kaidi Number 603. 603 is a special number, do not you know it? No!!!! Okay let me elaborate. As we all know 420 is associated with evil so as 786 is with god. 603 is middle of these two numbers so this number implied my existing between evil and got i.e. a man, just a perfect man in the imperfect world. You must be wondering, either I am too crazy or philosopher. But believe me I am just a farmer, who has been counting his days to judgment day.


How did a farmer, an image of devotion, sacrifice, labour, purity and sincerity, end in prison? It is a long and tragic story; you will neither believe me nor appreciate my efforts to keep the pride of male community. I have not either copied or pasted my story but it looks dramatic and filmy.


I was in love. Please please, I do not want to hear a farmer, an image of blah blah. I also have a heart; which can fall for someone sweet, adorable and lovable and my heart fell for my own wife. Though she was a teacher and I was almost illiterate, but there were a lively attachment between us. Though my love was boundless but there were fights between husband and wife. We used to flights for individual's right. I am a male and In Indian society a wife is dust of his husband's feet and I wanted the same respect from her. But instead of appreciating my love for her, she tried to dictate and force her commandments on me. Our culture says husband is the religion and devotion for the wife. But my life/wife stopped hearing the advice from other villagers. All villagers were jahil and Ganwar for her. She argued about the changed world, does not she know the world cannot change till we/men change it? She escaped from Nari Dharma with the excuse of her tiredness and busy schedule. She did not allow me to sleep with her "because I was illiterate" and according to her my breath was bad. Neem ka Datun was not good enough to brush my teeth; she wanted me to brush my teeth with Angreji toothpaste. My father died without holding my son in his hands because my wife did not find any difference between daughter and son. She did not want someone to carry our name in this world/country/state/village. Her decisions kept deterioration our relationship every day. My daughters started calling me Unpad Budhdha. One such monstrous day in rage, unexpected and unprecedented event happened and I was awarded the capital punishment for killing my own daughters. I argued with judge and told him the necessity to take such steps to set an example which will help in preserving the honour of Male society. But idiot and literate judge said "Shut up, you illiterate and idiot MCP". Hmmm, MCP, some big term I suppose.


Here ends my story about love and sacrifices to maintain the decorum of the male society.
Jail's environment is not as it is shown in the Bollywood movies. Most of the people coming here do not have a killer instinct. Most of them do not have muscles, fame and money. Their bones are ready to jump out of skeleton cage. They are filled with darkness, humiliation, sorrow and bitterness of their conducts. They weep when they receive letters from their families. They cry when they meet to their lovely families. Though we get food thrice a day but still no one gains any weight. We work hard but our muscles do not improve. Lots of Sipahis, holding old and rusty guns, whistle and parade around us. An idiot Jailer keep shouting and frowning over us.


Here in jailhouse I have comrades who were involved in murders, thefts, robberies, rapes and many other heinous crimes but no one is innocent like me. Everyone has been penalized for his own crimes but I was punished for keeping the esteem of the society. A convict, who was self acclaimed Don, salutes me every day. As soon as I wake up, he walks in-front of my cell, salutes and shouts MC. MC is another big word I learned here. Other remaining prisoners are scared of me. They do not have the courage to stare or look at me or talk to me, but they frown due to jealousy. Though I feel alone but their fear fascinates and strengthens me more to keep them away forever.


My honey did not even visit once to meet me or to find out my conditions in the lock up. She denied hiring a reputed counselor to save my life or to appeal further. I heard people gossiping about my wife and me. I think she is going out with someone else and she will move to another village soon. I should bag one hour from police inspector at the name of male community and murder this bitch who is dishonoring the custom of our great society. I still love her but I cannot let her ruin our honor and pride.


I have seen people coming and leaving the cell. Everyone brings a new story to discuss. We all old in-mates gossip about the new talent and appreciate his courage if he has done something significant. One day one more guy entered the prison. He looked innocent but he was awarded capital punishment next Monday. Nobody knew his story, he was a quiet man. He did not even talk to his cell mates. He was finding solace in his own solitude. This was the first execution in the jail.


It was Sunday. I saw lot of changes in the environment. Police force was increased significantly. Media persons increased the chaos outside and tension inside the premise. Everyone was talking about the upcoming hanging. All other prisoners were trying to figure out the story behind our new companion and reason for such huge media coverage. Lots of people were not able to eat even a single piece of bread. We were not taken out to work. Activities around new prisoner’s cell were increased. Other two in-mates of the cell were adjusted in other cells. Everyone was tense, unhappy and panic-stricken.


Day passed in horror and hustle-bustle. Hanging was supposed to commence at six AM in-front of all the prisoners. At five o’clock he was taken out of his cell. He was trembling and chanting “Ram Ram Ram” interminably. He was not able to walk due to shaking in his legs, instead of walking he was hanging on the guards carrying him. His eyes were filled with tear, horror, fear and terror. Unlike yesterday, today he was shaved and was dressed well. According to his last wish, he heard the Bhagwat Geeta for one hour before leaving his cell. He must be trying to reduce his sins down at last moments of his life.


Media people were mocking the death scene and were telecasting the death as “Breaking news”. Instead of sympathizing with a human, their remarks were filled with hatred. There were glimpse of insanity and inhumanity in their eyes. Their eyes were dry and emotionless for 50 year old chap, who would not exist anymore with-in few minutes.


The ground was filled with people. Executioner had taken the podium and for the formalities purposes he was checking if everything was working perfectly fine. There were at-least 50+ soldiers who were around the podium. Cameras were setup around the podium to take the nearest possible shot of stretched neck. Jailer, doctor and jury members were in the front row. We all were standing behind them and we all were the spectator of something painful. There were few of us who had to face the same punishment within some time and our heart was sinking and pounding hard.


Soon, our latest in-mate was brought into the ground. He was still hanging over soldiers arms. He was uncontrollable, he was screaming, he was pleading, he was weeping and he was shaking. When we live then we pray for death and when death is so near then we always wish to live little longer. He was shouting that it was devil who acted at that moment but no one seems like listening to him. Judge was busy checking time in his wrist watch, hangman was busy in tie the rope, jailer was busy analysing the environment, and doctor was taking his equipments out of suitcase.


He was taken to podium and he peed there. Everyone gave him a disgusted look except me and few others who have the similar destiny. He was not concerned about the urination act, he was not concern about the disgusted look, he was just trembling and shouting in horror. Executioner tied his hands, put a black cloth on his head and tied the rope around his neck. His shaking increased which was even evident from the last row.  Clock in the ground clicked, judge’s arm went down, and trigger was pulled. Very next second a body was hanging in air, it was weltering like fish taken outside the water. It felt pain for little more time but after 2-3 minutes of pain, it was all over. The pain, the shaking, the fear, the terror, and the rest were over. The man and his sufferings were over. Doctor examined and after confirmation the group left the premise.


The hanging body was yet in front of my eye but it was not the person who died it was I who was hanging over the rope. Pictures, voice and talks of my sweet daughters flashed back to my mind. I was not sure about anything other than death.

Note: This story is complete work of fiction and is inspired by an article published by Hindu by George Orwell.

Ek Kaidi aur Ek Hasina

For the entire week I was busy with work. I did not even have time to sip my coffee in peace. This was the busiest week of my entire career. Though the weekend gave some relief from work but today was Monday and tomorrow was the date for releasing the product. I was occupied with work, and things were not moving in right direction and in such critical situation I was swarmed by people who called me last on my last birthday. Just within the first hour of my office I had attended five and missed six calls and in parallel I was chatting with five other friends.

My cell phone rang and it was a call from an unknown number so I hung up. Again it rang displaying 9540611889 calling. I was too frustrated to take any further actions, I let it ring until it became a missed call. These BPO folks would not let you live in peace. It rang back and as I did not have luxury time to deviate my attention again and again, so I picked the call up to shout and ask him to stop harassing me. "Hiiiii" a girl screamed loud enough to make me deaf momentarily. A gal’s voice over phone reduces the level of mercury in mind. With soft voice I asked the caller’s name. Instead of giving a straight reply I heard "Do not you remember me?" In the moment of heat I asked myself “Who is this girl? Why did she call me? Why cannot she answer me straight? Did I ever promise a girl to remember her every second of my life?” Mercury was rising in outer and inner spaces but instead of showing my emotions I told her "Dude, if you want to have question/answer session, call me in the night. Right now I have much priority questions to answer". I was just about to cut the call, I heard “hey! this is Kamini”.

Kamini, I do not remember any Kamini, did we ever meet? I wanted to leave the CCD encounter behind but her name flashed the black day back to my mind. Kamini, speaking over the phone, was fluent in English so I dismissed my assumption. But she cleared my doubt and confirmed I was talking to Kamini ( Kareena Kapoor - Chameli > Kamini@CCD >Rakhi Sawant). "Arre Baap re." Did not I tell you about giving her my number to stay in touch (You know KIT)? In a slice of second, I started finding the reasons behind this call. Does she want to discuss date and time? Does she want to negotiate on price? Does she want to blackmail me? Did someone take our photos together? (I was still unmarried and my photo on walls will reach my village before me) These thoughts made me uneasy and instead losing my temper I managed to say "Hey, kaisi ho tum". Call ended with a promise to meet at Barista and My working spirit ended abnormally on the very moment I hung up the call. I dreamt myself on deathbed with no family around (Nagar Nigam folks were completing my last rites with following words - Logon ko shauk karne ho to khule mein nahi karne chahiye bechare ki shadi tak nahi hue ek chote se shauk ke chakkar mein).

I finished my work as soon as possible and reached Barista. She was wearing pink top on light blue jeans. There was little Kajal in her eyes, lips did not have any lipstick, nose did not have any stupid ring and there was very little makeup on her face. Precisely she was looking gorgeous and I was lost in her beauty.

In conversation she told that her real name was Shalini and she was pursuing her MA from Delhi University. I thought this girl had indulged in dirty business to fulfil her teenage desires. Anyway I was still unclear about the agenda of the meeting so a thought of trap was not allowing me enjoy her company.

Looking at my peculiar behaviour she figured out my intentions of not staying there for a longer time. She took my hands in her hands and told me that she started liking (I wonder - Another trap will surface soon) me after the meeting at CCD. According to her, I was innocent (in another words idiot/stupid/childish) enough to sit with a sex worker ( ;) I dint know until the waiter announced the news of sharing a table with a hooker otherwise it was out of question) in a public place. 

I inquired "Since when was she in this business?" She told that the day of our meeting was her first but last day. Then I asked the reason to choose such muddy business. She described her poverty and told that quick money was required to save her brother from the prison (WTF - Here comes the reason of liking me just in a meeting). The word prison started dancing in-front of my eyes. I could visualize her brother(like Sunny pa ji in hindi movies) holding the bars of cage and shouting “Koi mujhe yahan se nikalo.”

I was stunned, scared, terrified and startled. I never talked to guy who had a record of public fighting and here I was sitting next to a prostitute whose brother had been acquitted for one or more serious crimes. She told that her brother has been acquitted for Hit and Run case. She told that her brother's master, who was drunk and driving, has falsely implicated the crime on her brother. My mind was trying to figure out my involvement. What does she want from me? How can I help? Is she misunderstanding me with an advocate? Does she need money for trial?.

Instead of showing my impatient, I asked if I could be helpful. She said "I just wanted to meet and tell you about us and situation under which circumstances I accepted the muddy path. I will try to figure out the way to bring my brother back home." As an emotionless person, Instead of stretching my helping hand farther, I took the opportunity to run away from the situation so I finished my coffee and left her alone with her grief.

Again I forgot to mention, today was my birthday and My birthday gift was a kiss on my cheeks.

PS: If you do not know Kamini yet, Click here to meet her.

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Mystery prevails

I had been waiting for this trip for last 4 years. Everything was planned and things were on time. As per the plans I had to leave office at 5 o’clock, reach home at 5.30 and pack my bag by 6PM and reach the bus stand by 7. I reached home, door was locked, I unlocked it and entered. I started collecting the required things in huge backpack. I kept my clothes, camera (Oh camera was not there, no issues I still had time), more clothes, towel, tooth brush, paste, soap and camera, but my camera was still untraceable. I searched, searched more and searched harder but could not find my camera. So I called my mom.

Me: Camera Choda kya mene? (Did I leave my camera at home?)

Mom: Nahi beta. Kya hua.(No, What happened?)

Me: Kuch Nahi, Mene kahin to rakh diya hai, mil nahi raha hai. (Nothing great, I just misplaced it.)

Mom: Tujhe kisi chis ka bhi dhyan rahta hai, 300$ ka camera tha na. (Can't you keep your things attentively? How costly was it? Was not it 300USD?)

Me: Nahi Mummy, 200$ ka hi tha. (No, it was just 200$)

Mom: 8000 Rs/- Akal nahi hai, 8000 ka nuksan kara diya. Ab to flight se mat ana is bar, train mein hi ana. (Don't you have some mind? It is huge loss of 8K INR. Don't take flight to come home this time.)

Me: Mummy train mein 44 gante lagte hai. Mein nahi aa sakta. (Train takes 44 hours so I can’t afford this much time in train.)

Mom: Mat aa fir. 8000 rs ka nuksan kiya hai tune. (Do not come, it will compensate 8000 INR/-).

Oh man, My mom did not know the actual cost (1000 USD), otherwise It would have been more than one tiring journey of train. 

Nobody came in, nobody went out. All doors were locked and all windows were tightened from inside, then where did my camera go? Everything was in place, my laptop, my computer, my iPad and iPhone were not even touched but my camera worth 5 home trip was not there. Strange, is not it. Things were pointing to a theft. Due to lack of time, I could not investigate much and ran to catch my bus.

I was late again but this time I was only 10 minutes late to reach to bus stand. I inquired about my bus scheduled for 7 PM and I was amazed. My bus had already left, Only God can save India. Indians have stopped using IST(Indian Standard Time - Start at least half an hour late than the schedule time.). This increased the heat of my anger and frustration. I called my mom back and told her about missing the bus.

Me: Bus miss ho gayi (I missed the bus.)

Mummy: Kahan Ja raha tha? (Where were you going?)

Me: Bataya Nahi mene (Din't I tell you?)

Then why am I telling it now? Oh man, face it now. 

Mummy: Nahi (No.)

Me: Ladakh ja raha hun, Himalayas parvat. (I was going to Ladakh.)

My mom's voice was toned down.

Mummy: Himalay kyon beta? (Why are you going to Himalaya, son?)

Oops, what does my mom think about me? Oh man, I should correct her without wasting a single second.

Me: Arre Brimhachari banne nahi ja raha, Ghumne ja raha tha? (Not going to become sage? I was just going for passing some quality time)

Mummy: Acha, thik hai kitne ka nuksan hua? (How much did you lose?)

Me: Jyada nahi. (Not much)

I cut the phone before mummy could increase my period of exile. I searched the whole room, kitchen, hall, second room and house again but could not find the camera. I lost hope of getting my camera back and started living more cautiously. Few of our keys were missing. Though we did not have any idea about the burglar but we assumed someone must have found our keys and used the same key for stealing my camera. To eliminate further attacks all locks were replaced.

After silence for few days, thief hit us again. This time someone stole my Sudexo coupons worth 2200 Rs/-. What an idiot? He did not take anything other than Suxedo coupons. Investigations revealed that one key was lost. I doubted my maid so I fired the old one and hired a new maid. Locks, better and secure, replaced the older ones.

Things were fine for few days. But one day my old Sony phone was not in the drawer and some of my keys was missing for last 2 days. Was the missing key creating the trouble for me? I did not know it. So this time cook was targeted and changed. But there were not any respite from these lifts. More small things were picked without leaving any clues.Approaching Indian police was not a nice idea. Karnataka police was already burdened with Ijjat stealing and heart stealing cases, so burdening them with material stealing case was not appropriate. 

One day my room-mate moved out of the house to some unknown friend's house. He is not in house for last 10 months.

For past 10 months 14 days, Neither any key nor any item went missing from my room. Was it a fear in thief's mind, or was firing the cook/maid or was bringing better quality lock made our life better? We are still not sure about it but I have a request to the thief, please return back my khandani watch gifted to me by my dad at the graduation time otherwise how will I tell my son "Beta yeh mere papa ko unke papa ne graduation clear hone par diya tha".

Cafe Coffee Day: A close Encounter

Most Indian couples start their relationship with a cup of coffee. Initially to ease off an emergency situation; they prefer a coffee shop nearest to the girl’s house; and these couples find CCD as the most suitable outlet wrt their requirements (I think no of girls in a vicinity determines the no of CCD outlets. Mathematically it can be expressed as number of CCD outlets is equally proportional to number of gals living nearby.). That is why Cafe Coffee Day chain, the most popular coffee chain in India, can boast about maximum couples turning up to its outlets to enjoy their constructive / destructive (Depends on individual’s outlook) and peaceful time. 

The above stated reason understates the number of visitors at CCD. Apart from couples there are lot many people (Atheists only, rest go to temples and sing some Bollywood songs to persuade the deity) who come to CCD with their desires. As CCD chain has a bit catchy slogan "Anything can happen over a cup of coffee"; so it provides hopes for people searching for their counterparts. Lot of couples can be seen sipping their coffees in their own dreamy world, lot of couples can be seen entering or leaving the coffee parlour. So it is not hard to expect a miracle.

I always hoped, Someday CCD with live up to its slogan and image. Whenever I visit the parlour, I wished to bump into any girl from my past or future but luck never favoured me. One such day things took a U turn. I entered the CCD and inspected the people sitting around. Though things were not different from any other day@CCD but all of a sudden my scanning stopped at one table and my mind started finding the reason for her isolation. My mind started questioning "Why is she sitting alone? Is there someone who has gone to place the order?" But as I did not want to lose the empty table just next to her, so instead of risking the important time in analyzing the situation in broader manner, I reserved the table next to her.

I was checking her out and suddenly she peeked at me. As soon as she looked at me, one of my eye-lid blinked, due to one mosquito who sacrificed his life to make my life easier, in other words I winked. She stared at me, as if she was looking for an explanation. Wow, it was my chance, but I did not have enough courage to ask her if she wanted to join me. Dude, just in few seconds she joined me. I did not know why? I thought she was either desperate or bold to sit next to me. (Anyway Dil ki ichcha poori ho gayi)

During our conversation, I came to know her name was Kamini, what a lovely name, is not it? Her skin was pink and she was wearing yellow t-shirt with few silver lines which caused her skin glow more and a decent short (short enough to cover half of her thigh) skirt. She had put light red lipstick (I think it was light) on her lips and her face colour was fairer than skin colour due to a thin layer of powder on her face. Her eyes were dark black due to excess of Kajal and she had put a nice and huge nose ring. To describe her acutely, her looks were better than real Rakhi Sawant and worse than Karina Kapoor in Chameli.

Aroma@CCD was little different now, all boys were staring me and her interchangeably. Shit, men cannot change. These Guys, All of them were sitting with chicks but they had to check out my gal. But in contrast all the gals were also staring at me. Guess what, whenever I hang out with a girl then lot of chicks check me out. Why cannot they find me muscular when I walk alone?

Btw, I was not much cautious about Aam Aadmi and I was enjoying my first real encounter @ CCD . She was not notably good in speaking English, so to save her from embarrassment, I started talking in Hindi (Baaap re, bach gaye nahi to apni to ijjat hi chali jati). We covered lot of white areas e.g. movies, cricket, sport, and education, lot of black areas e.g. population, traffic, pollution, global warming and poor people and grey areas e.g. Indian politics, corruption, medicine, sex and prostitution. Usually discussion was healthy except in two instances. One, when we started the topic of sex, she became too touchy (Do not take it wrong, I just mean emotional) and another when I started protesting legalization of prostitution.

After finishing her coffee she announced the arrival of her boy friend. I was sad but I knew she must be waiting for someone. I asked her number and she denied. Anyway I waived a good bye and asked the waiter to bring the bill.

Waiter brought me the bill and I gave him the money. He returned with change and asked "How was the madam sir?” I told him to mind his business. He said "Arre sir kya sharma rahe ho bol bhi do? She will charge 2000 INR for one night." I was stunned and in the state of dilemma I whispered "Was she a whorrrre?" Waiter got angry and said “Sir Ijjat se bolo, call girl bolo”. I looked at all the people sitting around me, they were still staring at me and I was sweating in air conditioned mall. I asked the waiter, "Will she consider my CCD bill in her charges?" and instead of waiting for his answer I moved out of CCD briskly.

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The Journey to Hospital

A Journey can lead to any place.. Just get out of home and start walking. That walk will again be a Journey. But to make a journey to the hospital, it takes great courage. After facing 2 days of suffering, I chose to walk to the hospital (Does it not seem scary to you to walk to hospital and give your blood to test?). There were hundreds of thoughts that were circulating in my mind, which were increasing the fear-factor. Among them one thought was, what if the doctor says," we found unrecognized disease in your body and what if he adds, your body can be utilised for the experiments.

Anyway i reached the hospital. I got an appointment from the doctor who was supposed to reach the place at 12.30. But as each and every person in India follows the same VERY STANDARD IST. Our mr doc was no more exception. So to compensate DOC's mistake i was told to sit and wait for him. Here I started scanning the patients who were sitting quietly. My scan was over the moment i met with the eye of one girl. There was some relief. Vishal, i do not need to look at the uncles to kill my time. Now if one chik is sitting next to you then you have to show how intellectual you are. So i did the same, i started reading the NEWS-Paper. But it was unbearable to keep digging into the paper when someone hot is sitting next to you(Here I pretended she was hot, I dint examine her till now). So i had a solution, there was one TV set in the waiting room, whenever i wanted to see the chik, i looked at TV set first, then chik and finally paper. Each time i saw her, I reviewed her with patience(To the limits it was possible). This girl was sexy and cute both (Am i hyping more. So what, i have all rights provided to exaggerate the things).

Finally MR. Doc came at 1 o'clock. That guy was looking concerned about the people waiting for him for last 1 hour. And he gave his short lived smile to my new crush (Hun hun Doc bhi biryani ke piche laga hai). Time had come for examination. Nurse came and took my temperature and weight. I was really concerned before stepping on the weighing machine. What if i am under weight and this doc tells me lots of other diseases that are unknown to me. Again i was in the long waiting queue to meet the doctor. Here it was not really frustrating as my latest crush was still sitting.

Anyways, after almost one hour wait It was my turn to add few new name to my English dictionary. He asked one question What happened? i vomited each and every thing that was troubling me for last 2 days. Now he started building a layer of psychological fear. Once he was successful in blocking my mind (Which was already half blocked), he told me to get some tests done and in addition to that he asked me for injection. In that situation i was ready for everything told by my god.

Now it was time for test. The nurse took blood out of my body (Though i have very less to survive). This was not all. Here comes the nurse having needle in her hand. First she took me to a room and here we 2 were alone and she asked me to open my pant [:)]. I was not ready for that but she told me it can only be injected on your bums. He was not ready to change her stance and i was stiff on mine. But finally she had to win with her arguments which were all in kannada (For me it was KALA AKSHAR BHAIS BARABAR - I am Kannadda illiterate). Finally i gave up and my back is still paining (It is more than 12 hours after injection). Meanwhile I saw my 1 hour crush rushing toward the exit gate. I was disappointed and once again my heart was broken.

With my broken heart, coated mind, injected bums and reduced blood i returned back to the home. Oh sorry dint i tell you the money i paid. Let us leave it for now. Now I am waiting for my reports. Guys please pray for me... I know you will pray :)