Shit Happens

I wrote a comment on an obscene video on facebook from my mom’s fb account. FML (

The importance of decision making in my life

Back in 10th class, I had developed a very deep interest in Mathematics and an inner intuition told me that I should choose the science stream over the medical and commerce streams.

The +2 years were the most enjoyable days of my life. My love for Mathematics just kept on increasing and I loved solving math problems than anything else in the study hours. I was also intrigued by the concepts of physics and how every small thing built around me was but an application of physics guided by the language of mathematics. I must admit here that I sucked at Chemistry. Though I loved a few chapters which were related to mathematics, in some way or the other, like “Solutions”, I hated Organic as well as Inorganic Chemistry since I’m very poor at memorizing the properties of crappy elements and their crappy reactions at crappy temperatures. I attempted AIEEE, IIT-JEE and not-to-mention explicitly, EAMCET. JEE didn’t prove out to be successful for me but I secured a very good rank in AIEEE.

Having scored AIR 1404 in AIEEE, I had two options in front of me: to spend 1 year by taking long-term in order to enter into IITs, or to join in some reputed college listed under AIEEE. I chose the latter option since I always wanted to learn new things rather than repeating the same things again and again. And thus, I decided to go to a college. At the time of joining, everybody told me that the college I had opted for has earned a lot of reputation in a very less time and that I was quite lucky to have secured a seat in an institution as prestigious as this one. I was more than flattered and I joined the college without any hesitation. This was the point of time when I had no idea what my future would be like, whether I’d get the kind of education I was looking for or whether I’d be running a rat race. But since I had made a decision, I couldn’t look back.

The very first lecture in the college made it absolutely clear that all my prior knowledge of maths and physics will have no or least application in what I was going to do in the following years to come. A few courses here and there in mathematics kept my passion for maths alive and burning. But Physics, it was gone. Completely! Phut!

Though, in the first semester we had a few classes on mechanics and other engineering applications of physics, they were not of any use to us in the years that followed. Neither the professor, nor the student raised any doubt in the class as the complex equations involving double derivatives of vectors on a complex plane were far beyond the comprehension of either of them. And if any student dared to raise a doubt in the class, the prof scorned at him/her by saying that how could one come to a prestigious institution like this without having the knowledge of such a simple subject! Simple? My ass.

Anyways, in the second semester we were taught Elementary Electronics along with the students of Electronics stream. It was an elementary course and was designed only to introduce us to a few terms which we were supposed to be conversant of. Since the course dealt with electronics and semi conductors (Physics) I was very much fascinated by its content. At one time I had seriously thought of changing the stream to Electronics. But everybody knew that ECE was a very tough stream and most of the students even sympathized with their ECE friends for having a tough time. So I consulted a few of my friends to seek their advice on finalizing my decision. Every one of them strongly condemned my idea, they even said that I was nuts and only a crack would opt Electronics. In those days, I didn’t have guts to go against the words of my friends and so I decided to stay put and run the rat race.

Year after year, I saw my grade sheet being filled up with unwanted courses and demoralizing grades.  Every bad grade discouraged me, decreased my morale, forced me to think from a CGPA point of view, which in turn forced me to think from placements point of view. I was demoralized to such an extent that I started hating exams, professors and especially books. I was forced into a rebellion of giving up on the grades and involving myself in other extra-curricular activities. I knew that I was intelligent enough to pass any exam with one night stand but that would only convince my inner soul that I’d passed an examination, and not that I’d excelled at it. Believe me,  wearing an I-don’t-really-care-about-grades smile on the face is really a difficult thing especially when a small bug inside your brain is aware of the consequences of your grades and their effect on your placements.

Every year, I used to subscribe to those courses which, according to the masses, were relatively easy and susceptible enough to fetch me a good grade.  Such courses were very popular among the students because the end semester question paper, which comprised 60% of the total grade, would never alter. So, if one obtains the end semester paper from any senior, one doesn’t have to study much. Knowing the answers to the questions was the only key to assure a good grade. I, on the other hand, looked upon every course with the intention of learning. I also tried to solve the problem using the conventional approach first and then by applying my knowledge of the course. I failed to write the correct answer, I failed to obtain good marks, I failed to get a good grade. Every time after coming out of the exam hall I had a lot of expectations from the result. But every time the marks disappointed me. I have seen my fellow batch mates arguing with the profs and TAs to increase at least 1 mark and in every problem and thus in the process getting their marks increased by two digit figures. I’m not saying that all of them belonged to that category; there were a few who were genuinely talented and would obtain decent marks without putting the effort of arguing with the profs. But I belonged to neither of the categories aforementioned.

In my fourth year, I took a bold decision of taking a tough course irrespective of everyones warnings. And the course was Game Theory. Traditionally, only the toppers and the rankers across the batches used to opt for that course. It was taught by the college dean who had warm feelings for toppers and rankers and he wouldn’t give a damn to the other students. I attended most of the classes sitting in the back bench making no noise. One fine day I was listening to the class with utmost attention when I noticed that the prof was struck at explaining some concept of game theory involving coordinate geometry. I knew the answer to that problem but the bad grades had such a bad effect on me that I thought everybody else too knew the answer; my futile attempt of answering it would rather go unnoticed and hence I kept silent. But when I saw that the toppers and the rankers were not able to solve it, I slowly opened my mouth and blurted out the answer. That was the first time the prof became aware of my presence. He did solve the problem but without appreciating my effort. But that day I learnt something. I learnt that the toppers and the rankers were the people who simply by-hearted the answers in order to gain maximum marks. They never saw a problem as a challenge. They’d never wanted to solve the problem, they only wanted to see the solutions and understand the procedure and write the same in exams.

Since very few students(22) opted for the course, our prof decided to abandon the examination and gave us all a big assignment instead. The assignment consisted of creating a completely new game which involved all the topics discussed in the class. I took this as an opportunity to prove it to the class that I still had the burning desire to create something different, novel and innovative. And I did come up with a game involving secondary mortgage market, bankers and debtors. My game depicted the beginning and evolution of the Sub-prime mortgage crisis. With appropriate utilities and players, I formulated the game in such an interesting manner that the prof was compelled to give me an “A” grade. Later, I learned that I was the only student in the class of 22 who secured an A grade. I was overwhelmed by this response. To me, this achievement was nothing less than winning an Academy Award.

My bold decision of taking a step against the crowd proved out to be a huge success for me. From that day onwards, I decided to make my own decisions without consulting any one. The best part of taking a decision of my own is that I don’t have to blame anybody for the consequences I face and I take the complete responsibility of my decision.

Dabangg – A Movie Watching Experience

I was very skeptical about the meaning of Dabangg until I watched the movie today. “Dabangg” is the word for fearless and bold people who do not go by norms and make their own rules. Believe me, the movie was true to it’s name.

I watched the movie along with my parents at a local cinema hall and it was an incredible experience. I am not going the describe the plot or the line up of events of the film. So the post remains to be a non-spoiler alert.

Debutant director, Abhinav Singh Kashyap, has made a deliberate attempt at directing an ordinary script in an extraordinary way. The movie is a remarkable amalgamation of strong dialogues and powerful action sequences. The strength in the dialogues is marked by both the strong accent of North-Indian Hindi as well as Salman Khan’s buffoonery style of delivering them. The action sequences are good but they are a bit long and sometimes I felt like they were unnecessary. I cannot but help myself from saying that they were redundant, no matter how genuine they seemed to be. Apart from these, the movie is filled with some nice compositions including an item number, Munni Badnaam Hui.

Watching Dabangg in a cinema Hall was a completely different experience altogether. We were accompanied by a loud, noise-making audience that whistled and danced at every dialogue/song. As soon as the movie started, the local audience started complaining about closing the entry doors in their characteristic way. That was followed by Salman Khan’s entry which was received with a huge response. For some time, we were not even able to hear the words uttered by the actor.  The audience went gaga for every little action that Salman performed on the screen. For every song, the audience cheered up, danced and created a lot of ruckus by throwing coins and currency notes. The energy in the crowd was so high that for a moment I felt as if I was in a rock show and Slash had appeared on the stage.

The fashion sense in my town is highly inspired by the Indian cinema. Everybody in the town today owns a pair of Ray-Ban glasses, just like the ones worn by Sallu. And even the style of keeping them on the backside of the collar has also been copied. I learned about that new style in the interval.

Second half of the movie did not meet my expectations. As the Munni song appears in the second half, the audience went absolutely crazy and started dancing in the balcony. There was a group of 15-20 boys who were dancing as if they were dancing with Munni herself.

Altogether Dabangg was a great watch. I enjoyed the movie thoroughly. There is more than one occasion in the film where I’d laughed my heart out. Salman Khan was outstanding in the movie. Sonakshi didn’t have a big role, but she has justified the character that she played. Arbaaz Khan was good, if not better. I was taken aback by looking at the body of Sonu Sood. His role, too, was good and he has carried it very prominently. Vinod Khanna and Dimple Kapadia were okayish. So there we go. A complete masala entertainer with a little heart and some stupid comedy. It’s a must watch movie to all those who have been working hard for quite some time now. The movie will definitely relieve you. I give a 3.5 stars for the movie and believe me out of those 3.5, 3.499 are for Salman only.

Saas Bahu and Bullshit

Generally, I don’t watch Saas Bahu TV soaps. But my cousins, they follow all the TV shows that air on Zee TV, Star Plus, Sony, Colors, Imagine and many other channels. Recently, when they visited my place, they asked me to put on their favorite channel, Zee, on TV. Without hesitation, I changed the channel.

I took my dinner plate and joined them to see what was cooking in the lives of the Parvatis and the Tulsis. It was some other serial, ostensibly similar to the rest of the saas bahu soaps. I was in no mood to watch them, but I couldn’t refuse to accompany them either. So I stayed. Well, I had nothing to do, so I started listening to those hackneyed phrases. And suddenly, I heard a very strong, yet cliched, dialogue:

बहु: “आज  आपने  मेरे  पति  पर जो  आरोप  लगाया  है .. वो  इनके  चरित्र  पर  दाग  है .. और  मैं  इस  दाग  को  धो  कर  दिखाउंगी “

सास  (सौतेली ): “चामुंडेश्वरी  देवी  के  खून का  रंग  इतना  फीका  नहीं  की  तुझ  जैसे  पापी  के  धोने  से  धुल  जाये “

बहु : “अब  बस ! आपने  अभी  तक  सुमित्रा (herself) का  त्याग  देखा  है .. प्यार  देखा  है .. मगर  दुश्मनी  (a long pause).. आप  सोच  भी  नहीं  सकती  की  सुमित्रा .. जो  अपनी  पति  के  लिए  जान  दे  सकती  है .. वही  सुमित्रा  अपने  पति  पर  कोई  आंच  न  आये .. इसीलिए  किसी  की  जान  ले  भी  सकती  है ”

and I was like WTF!

And the background music turns to be a mixture of emotional, inspirational and revenge types. The cameraman shows the face expressions of all the members in a very slow motion. Bahu has an up turned eyebrow. Saas has an angry look and the husband has an expressionless face.

Btw the husband, in this soap, is mentally disabled. No wonder!

P.S.: Watching Saas Bahu Soaps can be dangerous to your health.

Passion Without Wisdom – A Short Story

I was surfing for some documents in my cup-board when I came across this old diary of mine where I used to write all meaningless stories and other crap. I opened the diary to see what I used to write in my childhood days. The pages of the book have turned yellow, and I could smell a nice fragrance in the air carried by those yellow pages. I flipped the pages to find some of my childhood works. Here’s a story that I had written when I was in Fifth Grade:

Once upon a time, there lived a hunter. He was very brave and passionate about hunting. He wouldn’t give up on his prey, come whatever may. He was always prepared for any kind of attack.

One day he saw a small, cute cub in the forest. The cub was lost and was looking for it’s parents. Instead of helping the poor thing, the hunter goes after it and shoots it down. When he approaches the dead cub, he realizes that he is already in the territory of the tigers. He sees the whole tiger family moving towards him in grief and anger. There were more than 15 tigers ready to attack him. But the hunter was good enough to put all of them to death. He then rips off all the flesh out of those dead tigers and leaves their caricature in that forest. He takes all the flesh to his home, cooks it and tries to consume it. He could only consume a tenth of the whole thing. He throws away the rest of the flesh.

The following day he goes back to the forest and this time he kills the whole pack of deers. And then rabbits, and elephants and all other animals; day after day, everyday.

Then one day, he goes to the forest and sees that there were no animals left. He had destroyed many species for his devoted pleasure of hunting. But that doesn’t leave him satisfied. He’s still hungry and still as mad as he could get. He then sees a banana tree. He goes up and picks up all the bananas that he could see. He eats a few of them and throws away all the others, even the ripe ones which were not a full banana yet.

The next day he picks up all mangoes, and then oranges, and then apples; day after day, every day.

Then one day he sees that the forest is no longer useful to him. So he burns it down and moves towards another forest. He keeps moving from forest to forest burning down everything that is of no use to him.

Then one day he wakes up and sees that he was sleeping in the ashes, there was nothing left for him to eat. He roams around the place in search of food, but he couldn’t find anything to eat. He then regrets for what he had done. He concludes that his passion for hunting has taken a wild form and it has left him with nothing but pieces of burnt charcoal and dead hope. He then keeps wandering in the barren land that he had made out of a beautiful world and wishes that he could go back in time and set everything back to normal. But he couldn’t. He keeps wandering until his hunger takes control over his body and ceases it to death.

Moral of the story:

One should be passionate about whatever one does, but at the same time one should be wise enough to understand one’s responsibilities towards nature and other beings. Passion without wisdom is like a body without soul and wisdom without passion is like a book of meaningless words that don’t make any sense.

A post on Procrastination

In the previous post, I had mentioned about my first endeavor with the Govt. Sector. I’d be continuing that story.

So, the next day I reached at the passport office at 5:00 in the morning after traveling for 23 kms from my place of residence. I was a little surprised to see 50 people in front of me even at that time. However, I was sure that this day I was going to get through the gate. And after standing in the line for the next 5 hours, finally I was sent inside the gate. The same line continued inside the office as well. The token guy gave tokens to some 40 odd people and then let us wait for the next 1 hour. It’s never easy to deal with these government servants. If you shout at them, they’ll throw you out of the gate; if you don’t shout, they’ll never do the work; and if you ask them politely, they’ll say they know what has to be done very well and I don’t no need to interrupt him/her.

Anyways, so after standing in the line for 5 hours to get inside the gate, add 1 more hour to get inside the office, finally I went into the office. There again, I had to wait for another 1 hour to get a chance to see the officer. Once the lady officer had confirmed the presence of all important documents and after checking my passport validity against her DB, she asked me to stand in another line to pay the money to another officer. Now, this another officer was a real bastard. All he had to do was: collect money from the people and stamp a few papers here and there. This guy was at the top of his voice, shouting at people to sit down and that he wouldn’t accept the money from people who were standing in the line. When I approached him, he refused to take the money from my hands and asked me to go to the end of the line. But the people behind me were supportive. They told him that I had been standing in the line with them for the past few hours and asking me to go back, at the very last moment,  would be a disgraceful remark on their behalf towards my honesty. He finally accepted the money and thus the deal was sealed.

Long story short: In India, never, ever get the paperwork done by yourself. I stood in the line for 8 hours, and I wasn’t even sure that I was going to get the passport till the last minute. Wait, I’m still not sure whether my passport will arrive at my place of residence in the nest 30 days!

I have decided to name this post as a post on procrastination, as I had been postponing this thing for many days now. And finally, on July 14th, I had accomplished this task with a strongly determined heart but with some pain in the ass.

P.S.: Feels good to do some real work in this real world.

Corruption at Passport Office, Hyderabad.

Till yesterday, I was a proud Indian. But today, that feeling of patriotism seems to be silently drowning somewhere in the deep ocean of frustration, anger and hate. If you are wondering, let me clear the air on this.

Today, no paper work in India is being carried out without corruption. It is as if corruption and Govt. Services have almost become synonyms. There are, still, many sectors like banking and all which I respect to the core and are less subjected to the kind of corruption I’m referring to, but still, I see the whole Govt. sector as corrupt. My words might seem to be harsh, but then some time or the other these government employees have got to learn that their deeds are causing a lot of problems to their own fellow citizens.

I have been to the passport office five times now, (courtesy: the Passport Office, Hyd.) and every time the result remained the same. The first time, I was given entry into the passport office, but the application was rejected for some unspecified reasons. Rest of the times, I just stood in the line for hours and nothing productive came out of that.

I have now figured out that my way into the office is not decided by the validity of my documents that I’m going to provide, it is rather decided by the amount of money that I carry in my pocket.  The brokers and the security guards of the office have built a strong, invisible fence around it. And there is an entry fee for this exhibition. Only people who can pay Rs. 6000/- or more are eligible to get their way inside the passport office and get a fresh, new, ready-made passport just within 5 days. The rest are those poor bastards who think that they can get inside without paying the aforementioned amount and keep standing in the line everyday hoping that luck will favor them someday. I’m afraid, I was one of them. I, quickly, realized that my way to the passport office was possible only through a broker. So I went to ask one of them about their rates and the complete procedure of getting things done. Here’s what I learnt from them:

A. Brokers are never polite. They really don’t give a shit of what you think about them. They never take a bath. Their faces are unshaven with a thick beard growing in every direction on their cheeks. They chew Guthka without brushing their teeth. They wear 2 gold rings on every finger,  on both the hands, including the thumbs.

B. They never really tell you what documents you have to show and what documents you have to carry along with you at the time of verification until you start talking about money. And then they’ll give you 3 options. (at least I was given 3 options):

Option 1. Pay Rs. 350/- and your file will be taken into the office. Then stand in the line for tokens. When you get your token, you can get inside the office and get your things done.

Option 2. Pay Rs. 1500/- and they’ll buy a token for you. So, now you don’t have to stand in the line of tokens from 6 in the morning and get disappointed when the gate security guard politely asks you to fuck off.

Option 3. Pay Rs. 6000/- and relax.  You don’t even have to come here. If you want you can go into the office, have a coke, chat with the other employees, use the toilet etc.  The broker will make the passport ready in 5 days and deliver to you at your door, personally.

C. As my name was misprinted on the passport, I had applied for correction of the same. Now, the brokers are the gods of their will. They will pronounce correction as ‘collection‘, and some times even ‘corruption‘, as they are the kings there. (Hell yeah! They are right. 1. They are going to ‘collect‘ money from me for the work which is actually supposed to be done without their help. And 2. They are helping me to ‘corrupt‘ them as I am left with no other option.) Education and literacy has got nothing to do with making black money. Nothing!

Anyways, after knowing these things, I said to myself that I can get the token if I stand in the line and there is no need to pay them. So, I stood there silently for a few minutes. People (there) were discussing about the number of tokens that are given each day for passport correction/renewal. I came to know that only 150 tokens were given everyday for that purpose. I immediately went to the beginning of the line and counted the number of people standing in front of me. I realized that mine was the 95th position. (Fuck! 94 people came before me and the time was only 7 in the morning). Nevertheless, I was sure that I was going to get through the gate.

Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony. After allowing 60 people, the guard at the security gate asked us (the few unlucky guys) to fuck off saying that the 150 tokens were already taken and there was no point standing there. There was no ray of hope that could fetch us inside that gate and that no amount of argument would ever be sufficient to convince the guard. The only way we could get inside the office was by paying Rs. 1500/- to the broker. The broker, to whom I’d spoken earlier, came running to me saying that I should’ve accepted his offer beforehand. But still, I refused to agree. He then asked me to try convincing the security guard for the last time before leaving back home.  But that last forlorn attempt, too, was useless as this guy made some gesture to the guard asking him not to permit me in.

So, there I was! Broken, failed and disappointed with the system. This disappointment lead to some kind of frustration which turned into anger and quickly got converted into hate. I started cursing the system, the corrupt officials, and the bloody, motherfucking brokers and the security guards. But is there any use of cursing them, I wondered! Well, here I was! Living in the world of dreams, thinking that India is not as corrupt as the people claim it to be. How wrong I was!

Yet, I’m glad that I have a powerful tool with me. A tool, which can make my voice heard. A tool, which can help the desolate and desperate people like me to come forward and raise their voice against this evil nurturing in our own home.  I sincerely thank wordpress for giving me the freedom to express what I have come to know about my country, my people.

Refusing to Accept Failure

Sir Edmund Hillary was the first man to climb Mount Everest. On May 29, 1953 he scaled the highest mountain then known to man-29,000 feet straight up. He was knighted for his efforts. He even made American Express card commercials because of it! However, until we read his book, High Adventure, we don’t understand that Hillary had to grow into this success. You see, in 1952 he attempted to climb Mount Everest, but failed. A few weeks later a group in England asked him to address its members. Hillary walked on stage to a thunderous applause. The audience was recognizing an attempt at greatness, but Edmund Hillary saw himself as a failure. He moved away from the microphone and walked to the edge of the platform. He made a fist and pointed at a picture of the mountain. He said in a loud voice,

“Mount Everest, you beat me the first time, but I’ll beat you the next time because you’ve grown all you are going to grow… but I’m still growing!”

Who’s better?

This post is a response to Hrishi’s post.

Of course, there is no comparison between these two legends. But still, I like Amir’s work more than Shah Rukh’s.

There is no doubt that Shah Rukh ruled the heart of every Indian in the last decade, but this decade Amir was the Jack of all trades. What astonished me the most about Amir’s work is that he gave 2 movies of different genres back to back. One as an intrepid, young villager who picked up a cricket bat, instead of guns or swords, as a weapon against the enemy and peacefully won the battle against injustice and slavery. The other character was of a spoiled brat who understands the real meaning of love only after loosing one of his best friends. The time lapse between these 2 movies was just one month. Lagaan was released on 15th June, 2001 and DCH hit the screens on 10th Aug, the same year. (I’m glad I still remember the dates of release of most of the movies of my childhood days ) The first movie went on to become the most internationally acclaimed bollywood movie of all time, whereas the second one set a new trend of making movies exclusively for the metropolitan audience.

Apart from that, the success rate of an Amir Khans movie is a little high than a Shah Rukh Khan movie, this decade. Shah Rukh also gave movies like Paheli, One two ka four, Asoka, Bhoothnath, Hum tumhare hain sanam, PBDHH, etc which failed to make a positive impact on the box office. Whereas, for Amir the count was only 2 (out of the 9 films that he has signed this decade) viz., Mangal Panday and Mela.

I agree that to be a successful actor, striking the chord of the masses is as important as taking breath. But it also involves taking risks like getting into the shoes of a completely different character  every time and mould it the way that makes the audience empathize with it. Of course, every protagonist has a different story to tell, but perfectionism is the quality possessed only by Amir and not by any other actor in bollywood. Also, this decade Amir has covered a wide spectrum of characters and not to mention, won the heart of the audiences in each of these roles. Whereas Shah Rukh failed to entertain the audience in different roles. His Character as Rahul in K3G was more or less similar to the character of Dev in KANK, leave apart the stories. Though he performed some tough roles such as Devdas and Kabeer Khan, I believe that his dedication never came any closer to Amir’s role of Sanjay Singhania in Ghajini.

I guess that’s lot of criticism for Shah Rukh. It’s not that I’m anti-ShahRukh or any thing like that, but I sure am a pro-Amir guy.

PS: As I mentioned earlier in my post, although both the actors are legends and have their unique ways of attracting audiences, I was more attracted towards Amir. It might be because of his perfectionism, or because of his dedication towards making quality movies, but Amir has successfully made a bigger room for himself  in my heart that Shah Rukh.

My name is Kasab

(The year is somewhere close to 2024.)

Aryan Khan, son of Shah Rukh Khan, has been recently launched by his dad. He is the youngest rock star of the country and a heartthrob of millions of teenage girls all around the world.

Junior Khan finds out that Ajmal Kasab’s case is still running in the courts. He goes to Mr. Kasab and does a research on what had actually happened on the night of 26th November 2008. To his surprise, his research work shows that Mr. Kasab is an innocent guy who has lived 15 miserable years of his life behind the bars in a dark prison. Aryan now wants to follow his dad’s foot steps and comes up with an idea of making a remix movie of Veer-Zaara and My Name Is Khan. Papa Khan is very happy that his son is not only talented but also courageous and has made a very bold/wise decision of portraying the role of an innocent Muslim who was maliciously caught by the Indian Police during the 26-11 attacks.

According to Junior Khan’s research, Kasab is a very romantic guy and had come to Mumbai with his girlfriend to see bollywood.  His girlfriend was an Indian and she gave him an AK-47 and asked him to go in front of a CCTV camera. He was so madly in love with her that he didn’t even think twice before committing the act. Later that day he was caught by the police and was taken into custody. While shifting in jails, he once had a chance to look outside the window of the jeep. He saw that someone was getting married. When their jeep went closer to the bride, he realized that it was his own girlfriend who had planned such a scary sketch for him. He later came to know that his girlfriend had betrayed him. The only hope that someday his girlfriend would come to his rescue was now dead. He lived in the prison as a living corpse. No hunger, no hope. But he believed in a thing called destiny. He believed that someday, some girl would come and listen to his dard-e-dastaan and set him free.

Junior Khan liked this story. He immediately called up Karan Johar’s son and told him the plot of the story. Junior Johar got hyper excited after listening to the story. He in turn called up Kajol’s daughter and told her the entire story. All three of them got ready to do the movie, “My name is Kasab and she made me a terrorist.” The movie name becomes an instant hit. To add icing to the cake, Karan Johar’s son decides to make the movie in 4D. (assuming that 4D technology has already arrived in the market). That’s it! All the Aryan Khan fans over Twitter and Facebook (and all other new social networking sites) start discussing about the new film.

The film gets released in all cinema halls across India. It receives a huge response from the fans all over the world. Everywhere, first day, first show is houseful. Junior Khan’s extraordinary charm has done the magic. The movie becomes the biggest blockbuster of Indian cinema, ever. The then Prime Minister and President watch a special screening of the movie and come out of the cinemas with wet napkins in their hands. The movie is made tax-free all over the country. All the politicians watch the movie and come to a realization that what the did to Kasab was wrong. The fact that they entertained such a discrimination towards such an innocent guy was a huge mistake of theirs. Even the opposition is so moved by the film that they come to an agreement with the ruling party’s decision of letting Kasab go back to his motherland.

It is the last day of hearing for Kasab in the court. Kasab has already spent more than 15 years of his youth life in a dark prison. The judge, who had been postponing the case for lack of evidence for many years, empathizes with Kasab’s condition and is finally convinced that what Kasab had done in the CCTV footage was merely an accident and that he is innocent and has a right to live freely in the country. As soon as the judgment is declared, some minister of the state declares Kasab as the real son of the soil. He says Kasab has taken so many insults on his own soul but was never ashamed of speaking the truth that he had come to visit Mumbai for watching some bollywood film.

Kasab is now an international celebrity. He visits hollywood every now and then. He entertains the hollywood directors by giving them the script of his life inside the 4 walls of prison. He is the most admired person on the face of the planet. He becomes the inspiration for thousands of writers and poets. He himself writes poems in his leisure time. He had learnt writing poems while he was in the prison.

One of his famous poems is:

jail ki diwaron me jab hoti hai khat khat

jail ki diwaron me jab hoti hai khat khat

khat khat… khat khat..

I said WTF! I opened my eyes and saw that it was my maid, waiting for me to open the door. I opened the door half asleep, took the news paper from her hands, went back to the bed-room, grabbed my spectacles and started reading the headlines. The headline read as follows:

Ajmal Kasab trial ends, verdict on May 3

I said thank God, I thought even this case would continue for years to come. And that every bit of truth would be chewed up, swallowed without digesting and finally spitted out and eventually be accepted as fact. I’m glad that the Indian Govt has taken a strict step towards the final hearing of Kasab’s case. Otherwise, someday my dream would have come true!

But then that day was April 1st. So I’m still skeptical whether that was a true news or just another of media’s tricks to fool people in masses?