Storm Clouds

Streaks of lightening illuminated the dark grey skies. Thunder rolled down from the heavens and echoed against a desolate earth. But the storm clouds were brewing around his heart. 

The Dance of the Morning Light

An earnest traveler embraces the cold morning breeze and watches on. In the distant horizon a ring of gold emerges from the labyrinths of the underworld; shinning and shimmering, sounding a beacon of hope; encompassing the over-whelming darkness all around. Fissures open to its warmth, gorges come to life with its  radiance and from a silent murmur, ancient rocks break into a symphony of love. With a shimmy to the left and then to the right, with a shimmy in the front and then to the back, the Badlands wake up to the dance of the morning light! 

Lucifer

Oh! That boy! That Lucifer! I met him once and I hope to meet him again. What an epic night that was. His appetite for us mortal humans is just as insatiable as our appetite for his devilish trickery. Doesn’t seem all that bad when you look at him. About 20cm in height, not more than 500g in weight, lean fellow too and a head not wider than your thumb, but things he does to you. You might think I am crazy but why don't you call on him to know for yourselves. Sly little bastard he is, I tell you that.

20 minutes with him and you will start watching what you say. Give it another 10 and you won’t walk straight. 2 hours with him, everyone around you will start looking at you with goofy eyes and wicked smiles. How I trusted that poor little sucker and what he did to me. He is fun, no doubt, but the dark magic he weaves around your head will have lasting repercussions. He will show you one heck of a time but he will eek out every ounce of energy you have in that mean little frame of yours.

You'll think he is an angel out to relieve you off the discomforts of your mundane existence but when he is done and take my word for it, he will leave you in deeper shit that you can imagine in the wildest of your dreams. But then, what a time, those 2 hours in your life, laughing at his jokes, at yourself; that feeling in your head, the only time you actually see the world spinning around you; dancing, to his music, on his finger tips. You will not have any memory of the night before but you will know you had a good time.

Darn that boy Lucifer! I wish he was around more often.

He is Der Bier!

That Spark

You are chasing after it your whole life. You find it in the places or people you least expect to. But that spark will start a fire that will light up your life. Some will provide the much needed warmth your heart desires, some will burn hard and consume you,  and some others will burn bright and fade away just as quickly. 

I have seen that spark. More times than I care to admit. I have seen it burn like a star and fade to nothing, I have burned and I have been consumed. And yet, I still look for that spark that will light a fire whose embers will continue to provide the warmth and peace that my heart desires; long after the fire has burned out. 

Now where is that god damned cigarette? 

A Tryst with the Abyss

Some go to their graves with a whole lot of love, some with a heart full of hate. Some take with them nothing at all and some everything. Still some others leave a legacy behind; a legend and some just evaporate into nothingness. Pleasure or pain, triumph or fear, joy or sorrow, everything or nothing; each of us will leave with an experience. Our thought lingers on, a thought which we think ceases to exist with us. In our heart the thought rallies on even after it stops beating, like a song that continues to echo long after the music is over. We are but a dot in this vast universe but in our thoughts and in our experiences is the synergy that breathes life to this world.

We are the ashes of time; slowly but steadily withering and disintegrating until we are nothing but a heap of dust that will be blown away. We are the ashes of time that will be forgotten when the hourglass is tipped over. We are the ashes of time that will be swept away when the page is turned. And we are so caught up in defining our own existence that we forget that there is a life to live. We lust, we chase after money, a fancy car or a big house but we fail to realize that none of it will count as much as the sights, sounds, feelings, emotions and experiences that surround us before we are six feet underground.

And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune

Then the piper will lead us to reason

And a new day will dawn, for those who stand long

And the forests will echo with laughter

I am no talisman, I am no saint, I am no prophet. I am just a simple man looking at the world with innocent, unbiased eyes. I am a simple man looking at the world from 30,000 ft., I am a simple man looking at the world after the lights are out and the noise is over. And I see a beautiful world. It is slightly trippy, it is definitely turbulent but it is a whole lot of fun. It makes you want to dance. Dance to the tune of the rising sun, the lazy afternoon breeze or the effervescent moon.

I am looking at the star lit sky and I see the hunter, in his calm, collected stance, waiting for his prey. I am looking at the star lit sky and I seethe order that came from the chaos. I am looking at the star lit sky and I know am staring into the abyss, the chaos that leads to creation,  the creation that leads to existence, the existence that leads to the end and what a wonderful place it is. It is not so difficult to find. It is, as a matter of fact everywhere. It omnipresent, omniscient and omnipotent. And yet, most of us just don't see it. If only we cared about the race itself, as much as we cared about the finish line, we will all see the abyss.

Our lives will lead us along infinite roads but our roads will all reach the same end. And there lies the heart that echoes when the shows is over and the curtains are drawn. Stop getting lost in what comes after, revel in the chaos of creation, rejoice in the order of existence and lose yourself to the absoluteness of the end and there you will see it, in beautiful bright Technicolor, deep within the chaos, a singularity that is always a plural, the peace in all the chaos. You will find life!

Insatiable

When the dark dreary skies were spreading their web of gloom and misery on an unsuspecting world, she came out radiant as an angel, spreading her wings to wrap that very unsuspecting people in her warmth, letting them know they were not alone, picking them up, pushing them on, giving them hope, filling in them the very life that is the essence of their existence. Lithe as a cat but strong and tenacious like a predator, with the splendor and vigor like the flaming sun, she made her decent from the underbelly of that omnipresent beast that was looming at large as far my pleading eyes could see.

Connected but lost, captivating but liberating, present but invisible, she enticed my every sense. Caressing  and controlling, she held me, touching me some, whispering some more. One like her, I am yet to see but one less familiar I have not known. She was the stranger I had known all my life. She was the color where all else was dark, the flavor where it was bland; she was the very essence in what was life.

Free in her imagination, spirited in her ways, gentle in her manners and devoted in her love, she was the very woman of my dreams. How I longed to run those infinite miles that separated me from her and how I longed to make her mine.

Oh that Minnesota drizzle! She's got my attention alright! There's no denying that. 

Sunset

An earnest sea reaches for the love of the comforting shore while two stubborn hills stand guard. The feisty sun is bowing down, only a mellow orange hue is left of the morning's rage. Each is fighting for a place in the deepest recesses of the by standers. Each vying to be etched in the memories of those who stand and watch. Now that's what I call picture perfect. Well!! Almost!!  You are not here. 

Cold Blood!

Have you ever felt the need to kill someone? I have! And I have killed. It was cold blooded murder. I tell you this too; that apprehension in you that stops you from taking another life, well, it is just until you draw first blood. And that's when the blood lust starts. After that you are just like a hound on  a scent.

Testosterone Man!

You! Testosterone Man! Do you not see me or do you choose to ignore me? I have a bone to pick with you. A real one lest you have reservations over confronting me over "trivial" issues. I know you know it but you might just be ignoring it. Either that or you are stupid enough to qualify  for the title of a "dim wit dick". That darned hormone man. Why does it have to keep oozing out of every nook, corner or crevice in you. Do you not have any control over it or do you simple not believe in the conservation of natural resources? It's like a leaky nose man. It's obscene to the say the least. Dripping all over and flowing free as a river.

Why do always have to be the hero in Apocalypse now? Why do you always have to be Around the World in 80 days? Oh! Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea? That's your thing? Yeah, alright man I get it. It's all the same. The strongest man, the fastest man, the best man. Potato, Potaato. It's the leaky nose, it's that occasional slippery fart, the wet patches under your hairy arm pits.

Why is it always the race to the finish line? Is there ever a finish line? I am sorry man! I don't mean to be rude. All I am saying is that the likes of you make it very difficult for me to float around in the mountains,  swim in the deep seas and get lost in the labyrinths of unexplored, untouched, virgin pathways of life. It's not just "Bang bang! I'll  blow myself out of anything and everything." . There is prize for coming late my friend. And it is the best. It's called an orgasm.

I detest you lot man. I mean, you don't understand jack shit. And therefore you simplify things for yourself. That is still cool man. But why do you have to enforce it on the rest of the world? There are more intelligent beings out there in the world. There are definitely more appreciative beings out there in the world. There are people who value the sun and the moon, the stars and endless space and the long haul.

I can't change you lot. But I can tell you exactly what I feel. You are liars, cheats with a single minded purpose in life and that is you and yourself and everybody comes second. Yes! I accept that I am like that too but I don't walk around with my cock hanging outside my pants man or my balls dangling like pair of church bells. Common!! Do you not get how obscene that is. You might think it is the most beautiful creation of God. But I tell you this, and listen carefully, it is by far the most imperfect thing ever created.

That's all I have to say. Go shove it up yourself for I am me and I will not be not be pushed around by some imbecile who can't hold his susu. Thank you for listening. I think my rant is over. Don't get me talking again. There are things I can say that your big, funny, ugly dick can't handle. It will be a pleasure to off-load some of my shit over on you. 

Chennai Chronicles

An unbearable stench fills my nostrils even as I enter the platform, understandably excited about the impending journey. It's been a good year and half since my tryst with the Indian Railways and I was looking forward to it. The train has always been an interesting experience, planned and orchestrated to the minutest detail or genuinely and honestly random, unexpected, spur of the moment sojourns across the length and breadth of the country. A platform for strangers to meet, a bogie of love and hope, a path(a track)to a new beginning.

Of all the times I have travelled in a train, and I have travelled a lot, this is only the second time I am going AC. I have travelled in a sleeper coach with a bunch of African nationals, sharing my reserved seat with them, packed to whole 10(more if you count their mammoth sizes) in a coupe that was designed to accommodate only 6, eating their smelly canned fish, chatting them up, smelling their African sweat and leaking my own(Well, sweat of course). I have travelled from Hyderabad to Bangalore, ticketless, was caught while admiring my brand new whisky flask, charged for drinking onboard a train and shoed from this end to that, from one corner to another till there was nowhere else to go.

I have gone from Hyderabad to Goa, from Hyderabad to Ooty, relinquishing my reserved berth for a seat by the door experiencing those things that only a train journey can provide; Massive waterfalls and little rapids, high mountains and low hills, vast planes and little dark tunnels, the wind in my hair and the scenery in my eyes. And here I am once again, walking down that familiar platform, sitting in that familiar bogie, chukk chukking away to Chennai, not for a trip, not for an adventure(well it may turn out to be one), but to witness two of my best buds lock horns(for the lack of a better expression) in holy matrimony.

Tamils cannot stop chattering, Goltis cannot get off the phone, Gujju's can't stop eating, Madu's bicker all night long. Kids won't stop wailing, husbands teach their wives life's goings on, wives play ignorant even as they play along. The smells of foods and flavors, from biryani to Battura or Sarson ka Saag, tingle your olfactory senses as the chuk chuk bandi chugs along. And in all this chaos and confusion, in this commotion, a lone boy is sitting, book in hand, window for a companion, listening and not just hearing, seeing and not just looking and experiencing and not just feeling the enigma that is the Indian Railways.

And wasn't it just moments ago when the unbearable stench of urine and goop launched an assault on my senses? Wasn't it just moments ago when I saw my train slowly but steadily rolling down the rails along the platform? Wasn't it just moments ago when its arrival had a caused a pandemonium of sorts - the aspiring and the hopeful running to fulfill their aspirations and dreams, the homesick and the desolate running to their loved ones for security and strength, coolies with baggage and people who were baggage each racing towards their destination only remotely understanding why.

Wonder what this trip has in store for me. 

The Dream - 2

His heart was racing; the blood coursing through his veins, warm as it was, seemed to have a life of its own. Gurgling with the infectious optimism that was floating through the misty air, he sat there, by her side (careful to keep a safe distance from her, wanting to get closer). Her presence seemed to brighten up his days, talking to her lightened the burden on his shoulders, and her dreams painted a riot of colors in his nights. He was in love; of that there was no doubt. Head over heels, truly madly deeply, in every clichéd, weather beaten, utterly inexplicable way one could be in love.

Her heart was pounding; goose pimples encrusted her exposed arm, accentuating her senses. Sensing a tension of sorts floating through the misty air, she sat there, by his side (careful to keep a safe distance from him, fighting off her temptations). He was smart, mature too, a little foolish and very adamant (Well, at least sometimes).  His humor was questionable but it made her laugh anyway. He was a romantic and she, a skeptic. But she could not understand, as hard as she tried, the bizarre feelings raising their heads within her that evening.

“A walk!” he said to her. “Or a movie?” he asked, and without waiting for her reply, promptly decided on the movie. There was a slight drizzle and the air was cold. Dark clouds adorned the evening sky and the sun (not to be seen) was on its way down. A walk would have been a wonderful thing to do but his heart told him otherwise. A soft, romantic movie, with a happy ending seemed far more appealing to him than the walk. Besides they could go for the walk even after the movie and that seemed like the icing on the cake to him.

“A walk…!!? “ she quipped. “Movie…!!?” she yelped. She wanted to suggest that she’d love to go for a ride on his bike but she reserved her opinion, trusting his instincts. Let the romantic set the evening up was her way of looking at it. The ride would have been a wonderful thing to do, but now that he had decided on the movie, it did not seem so bad. “Which one?” she asked. A romantic movie raised a bit of an alarm inside her, but she liked happy endings, so she ignored the blaring, beeping alarms and agreed to it.

They sat on the couch, a little distance from each other. He, gurgling with optimism, cheerful and eccentric and she, upright, tensed, slightly reserved. His joyfulness clouded his thoughts and he failed to notice his unusually quiet friend. She was glad he didn’t notice. The thought of telling him what she did not understand herself confounded her. So she did the one thing she knew and that was to focus all her energies on the movie. Laughing when the actors laughed, feeling an overwhelming sadness when they cried (but not cry herself) and feeling every emotion they felt, until she found herself staring back at her through the colored screen. The movie was his idea but he found himself to be constantly distracted, seeing the innocence of her laugh, feeling the depth in her sadness. He sat beside her, feeling her every emotion and utterly ignorant of the storm that was raging inside her.

For inexplicable reasons, she found her hand, almost involuntarily inching towards his, she felt her grip tightening around his and she was moving closer to him, pulling his arm around her, leaning onto him, resting her head against his chest. Her heart was pounding and the echoes of it resonated from every pore in her body and yet an almost eerie sense of calm was spreading through every muscle and every bone in her body. She fought for long and hard to protect herself, to lookout for her bereaved heart and in all this she had forgotten what it was to feel the comfort and the solace, a loving embrace could provide. In that moment, she did not know if she was in love, or if she wanted to be in love but she made her peace with her past and a tiny drop of tear trickled down her cheek.

The Dream

She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, contemplating if she should or should not let go of her inhibitions and take that leap of faith. The air was cold and the night dark. Countless stars adorned the sky and the moon, the moon was new and crescent. Questions raced through her mind; the answers, unfathomable, ambiguous and overwhelming. It seemed like a simple choice to make, she didn’t really have to do much anyway, but the consequences of her actions plagued her, ghosts from her past haunted her and memories of a similar happening still fresh in her mind.

Innocent! No that she was not! And yet she felt almost ignorant about matters of love and trust, of life and hope. Well, maybe she was, she thought to herself. Love and trust she had given once, unconditionally and what did she get in return? Once bitten twice shy? Damn right! Yes! Why not? No one was taking her for a ride again. She wouldn’t let them. Walls guarded her, walls around the fortress that was her heart. Innocent, pure and magnanimous that it was. Her fortress! Indomitable, impregnable and unconquerable!

How does anyone trust anyway? How does one take that leap of faith when everything around us seems to suggest otherwise. What with people falling out of love faster than they fall in to it? What with hurt, pain and hatred engulfing the world around us? Look around and you can only see lying cheating and deceit. How does one look past all of it, ignore every sign that says you are going down (and there are a lot of signs, more than the good ones anyway) and find the courage to lose themselves?

And switch to the world that is not your own, one that is a figment of your imagination, one built, caressed and nurtured by writers, big and small and look and for an answer. And again you encounter such monstrous things, men conjuring up djinns, fearful dragon riding evil kings and shrewd and cunning men and women with their insidious plans and propagandas, out to rule the world. How then do you trust and love and live happily ever after?

He tossed and turned in his bed, impatiently waiting for that beautiful woman to put an end to the endless questions in her head. Never once wavering, never taking his eyes off the gentle glow emanating from her fair skin, or her dark eyes that failed to conceal the doubts jostling for space within her, or her gentle, skeptical smile. Yes! He was bowled over by those little things that he saw in her. Mustering every ounce of courage, he tells her, “Place your hand in mine. I am not asking you for more and believe. Believe in love and life and everything nice. Believe in you and I and what we can be. Lose yourself, live for the minute, live for the moment. Take a leap of faith, here and now.” And then he stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

And ever so slowly she stretched out her hand and skeptically put it in his. And he held it gently and firmly, careful not crush her hands, but firmly enough to reassure her that he meant every word he said. His heart was racing at break neck speed; gazillion things were pounding his head as he waited for her to say something, a gesture, a word, something, anything. And that smile, that smile he couldn’t take his eyes off, angles across her face, but this time all those apprehensions, those whys and why nots and the what ifs were left behind. It was a smile that was as careless as the whispering wind, as free as the falling rain, as pure as the oceans blue.

Yes it was a dream. A dream as real as can be. A dream which had him, her, the shining stars and the crescent moon. A dream that was his as much as it was hers.

On A Rainy Night

Not a warning. Not a sign. Not even the slightest of clues. And the heavens opened up to unleash one of the greatest creations known to mankind. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is. Unpredictable in its nature, indomitable in its spirit and unrelenting in its power, it can tear your world to pieces just as easily as it can mend a broken heart. The sound of those tiny droplets of water crashing against the earth is music to the ears for some and misery to some others. It is an expression of passion and piety for some and pain and evil for some others. It is selfless when it gives and sinister when it takes away. Some hide in shelters when it arrives and yet, others feel at home even in all its fury. 

He stood there without a care for the world, in awe of the nature, the spirit and the power of the rain. Soaked to the last piece of clothing on his body, dripping from head to toe, he stood there, still as a rock, listening to the deafening sound of the rain, feeling the water splashing across his face. That familiar sinking of the heart, that standing of his hair on its end, those goose bumps on his arms and legs, that familiar chill running down his spine, the oodles of energy pulsating within his body, it all came back to him and he felt alive once again. And suddenly there was a momentary emptiness where his heart should be. It was as if his heart had just popped out of his chest, acquired a pair of wings and scurried away to find its place within that one person who had come into his world, conquered his heart and refused to leave. 

He couldn't help but wonder how; the same rain had just a year before brought him such pain and solitude. And here it was again filling in him Hope - for the road ahead, as long and narrow and winding as it may be; Love - to give selflessly, welcome or not; and Strength - to hold his own and carry on, never mind the  consequences. It was this duality of the rain that fascinated him the most. What could bring happiness and cheer at one time could just as easily leave incredible pain and solitude. And it never ceased to amaze him.

But on this day, the pouring rain brought to him images of her. She was a special girl, that one. Childlike in her enthusiasm for life, fiercely independent, vociferous in her arguments, she was a high roller, much like the rain itself but for one striking contrast. She was not as benevolent and as uncaring as the rain when bestowing her love. And yet her wavy hair, her innocent smile, her adamance over trivial things, her honesty and her in your face blunt and frank opinions were all he could think of. She had come into his life quite unexpectedly but lingered on and eventually took control of it.

He stood there without a care for the world, still as a rock, soaking in every bit of one of the greatest creations known to man. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is, giving rise to hopes unfulfilled, aspirations unconquered, dreams to be made true, love to be realized and life to be lived. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is, intriguing, inspiring, undulating. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is, caring but crushing, giving but stealing, rising but falling. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is.

Meenakshi Saravanan - 3

He was staring through the cubes of ice in his whisky glass. The pale yellow light reflecting of the crystal surface of the glass presented him with a rather interesting sight. He was seated in a corner of the bar by the bar counter, a loud bar, a popular one, one with a lot of couples, a couple of single guys like himself and no sign whatsoever of a “single” woman around. The intoxication from the spirits he had been pouring down this throat (Yes! Most people sip on colored spirits such as the one he held in his hand but he’d rather pour them down tonight.); coupled with the long bar stools gave him a sense of airiness that comes with floating in the air.

Rock and Roll was back in vogue. There now stood a dance floor on a slightly elevated platform, about 150 Sq.Ft., where there were once a few more stilted tables and stools. The dance floor reverberated with the sound from the giant speakers as numerous couples danced, screamed, jumped and ogled, groped and fell over each other tongue in cheek (literally) to the groovy numbers spinning off the disks of the DJ on the floor. Blue, Red, Yellow, some more Blue and some more Red; laser lights bounced off the walls of the bar and off the people within spilling it’s color over them until there was no difference between the black and the white, the colored and the fair.

He sat there, still as a statue, amidst all the commotion around him, still staring into the glass of whisky in his hand, watching the laser lights dive into the intemperate spirit and then bounding off to intoxicate those hapless, unsuspecting 20 somethings. Thoughts raced through his mind even as the bartender refilled his glass, once, then again, then again; and he lost count. Unappealing work, a nagging manager, a shanty salary (well, according to his wife of course), a displeased wife, a romance that had faded, all came, each one pricked, ripped out a little part of his soul and faded into the far reaches of his memory only to come back and do it all over again until he was just flesh and bones.

As the night pulled on, the drunk got more drunk, edging towards smashed, the girls got hotter and the boys, well, the boys were getting more boyish. And rock n roll became electro pop, whipping up quite a frenzy as the music got louder, livelier and wilder. Through the sweltering heat of the dance floor, as a squealing voice announced the change of song, from the center emerged a steaming hot couple. The dance floor transcended into a stage as everyone made way for this charming couple. Yelps of whoa and ooooh and yeah resonated through the entire bar as the woman in the yellow halter and the faded jeans was grinding and grooving with her equally capable and classy man friend.

His eyes were still glued to the glass with its interminable supply of whisky. His mind though was wandering off into what seemed to be a distant memory of that one night; that one night that turned his life on its head, that one night that he lost his faith in love and hope and everything rosy, that one night when his wife came to him with a rather grim piece of news; that one night when his wife told him she was with another man, that she was beginning to fall out of love with him, that she was beginning to love that other man. A tear started to roll down his hardened face as the grip tightened around the glass of whisky in the manner in which a noose tightened around the neck of its victim at the gallows. Clink! No one heard; blood spurted out of his hand as the shattered remains of the crystal glass fell to the floor. He got up, left a bundle of notes on the bar counter, did not wait to even count, picked up the bottle of whisky and walked away.

The lady in the yellow halter spun around, slid under and flew over the fine gentlemen with élan and the young man, strong and muscular, in his mid-twenties, caressed her, let her roll and held her with passion and emotion. No one noticed the slightly odd fellow making his way to the dance floor, a bottle of whisky in his hand and a menacing face. As the song was drawing to its climax, the cheers got louder, the music got groovier and the couple matched it with just as much energy and panache. The sound of breaking glass filled the bar and before the lights went out and the focus fell on the couple center stage, the music came to a screeching halt, the crowd let out a yelp of despair, and a strange man with a broken bottle in his hand uttered the word – “Meenakshi!” amidst pin drop silence.

Ticketless to Bengaluru

Your watch says 17:30 hrs. You are still hanging around, strolling, talking, enjoying the office gossip, gloating about all those fun trips you are making to Bangalore and back. Your friend says, "Leave now!! Or you won't make it if you are taking the bus to the station.". You laugh. You haven't booked your tickets yet and the train leaves in an hour and a half. "Why would I care if I miss the train?", you tell her. But you do. You want to be there Friday morning, that was the plan. You walk down to the bus stop. You butt out a half smoked cigarette when you see your bus. You hop on and find yourself a place to sit. You think about the next 12 hours and you are grinning. "Slightly Mental", you think of yourself.

About half way to the station, you realize you have exactly 20 minutes to buy yourself a ticket and get your cocky ass onboard the train to Bengaluru. But you make it and in good time. You wait impatiently in the slightly long queue to get your ticket. You cannot express the relief, the feeling of joy when the ticket guy, well, pretty much throws the ticket back at you. Your adventure begins. You wish that the rest of your trip will be jus t as interesting as the lead up to it  was. You hop on, half realizing that this is the first time you are boarding a train to Bangalore.

Black coat walks past. A burly fellow. Five feet four many be five inches, with a waist line at an estimated 45 inches, a snout where most humans have a nose; walking about like he is the boss. But Oh!! Hang on!! For the next 12 hours or so, he is the BOSS!! You ignore him. You  want to sit, so you find yourself a nice cozy place by the door. You dump your bag on the closest berth and squat on the floor by the door; doing what you do best when you are alone. You sing!! Musafir hoon yaaron, a song you have found so difficult to rid yourself off. But it seems to you like you have never really connected with the song before this. Something about the aimless, ticketless travel strikes a chord in your system and you feel a strange connect. Blah!! Blah!! Blah!! You are just enjoying the song and there aren't too many songs that you can sing without annoying strange old people.

TT comes TT goes..

TT drives you, out you go..

Just when you think that it is not going to rain on your party today you feel something of a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn around expecting to see a fellow traveler wanting to share the same pleasures that you have been enjoying for over an hour now. The chill down your spine, the wind in your hair, the night sky and the fading lights of the city you are leaving behind. Oh!! But look what we have here!!

Black coats back..

Back Again..

To Drive you out..

Out of the train..

You try small talk. You try to convince him to let you stick around. You promise you will not bother fellow passengers with your singing. But fat boy would have none of that nonsense. He stares at you and says in his raspy voice, "Out you go you fellow!! Right train, wrong bogie. General Go!!". You shuttle, sometimes moving up the train, sometimes moving down the length of it. But wherever you go, black coat follows. This time he banishes you to the last bogie of the train and orders you to move to the General compartment when the train stops. You obviously have no intentions of doing that. But you play his game, just for the kicks.

You walk, sensing those curious eyes on you. You walk, watching pretty faces flashing by. You walk, dropping in on some interesting conversations here and there. You stop, almost suddenly. You see what seems to be acres of space and wonder what the hell were you doing whatever you were doing wherever you were doing it. Just one guy sitting with his legs stretched out. You drop your bags next to him and make yourself comfortable. You exchange a feeble smile and a few inaudible words that sound like "No reservation". Both of you try to make meaningful conversation while wondering what language will fit the probe best. Before you know it you are having a very animated conversation in Tamil. Yeah Yeah!! One Tamil meets and another Tamil and the rest as you know it, will be history. He shares his troubles of ticketless travel and you are beaming at the adventure yours has been. But this party doesn't last too long either.

New Black coat..

Nice and Fair..

Robs you off..

Four hundred Yeah!!

Four hundred is the price you pay for your cozy den inside the Bangalore Express and you are in love with it. New Black Coat promises you a berth for paying the fine and a full fare for the travel. You don't mind having one but you don't want it. You try telling the TT that you don't want a berth. All you need is this little den of yours. But the fellow seems to be an upright self righteous man. He tells you that he will be back soon.

You pat yourself on the back for a job well done. You decide to have a little sip of that good old scotch from your fancy hip flask. You open it up and just when you are about to indulge yourself , another party pooper comes knocking on your door. This time it is a cop. He snatches the hip flask from your hand and says liquor. You nod your head. He asks for your ID. You like that. People think you are not old enough to drink. He sees the cash in your wallet while you are trying to pull out your id. He starts fishing for money. He says Kurnool Police Station. You know he is just bullshitting you. You also know you are going to have to pay up. You give 30. He starts walking. He starts walking with your Hip Flask. You give him a hundred. He tells you, now you can drink. But drink after half an hour. Curious as he is, he enquires about the mysterious contents of the flask. Scotch you tell him. 100 Pipers. You can see his eyes glitter. So you offer him a sip of some fine whisky. He wants to but you can tell he is scared of doing that while still on duty. He says, mine is Antiquity Blue and he starts walking. You tell him this is better than his. He grins and goes away.

In precisely half an hour from your last encounter, New Black coat comes back with a berth for you. You don't want it, but there is little you can do when it is thrust on you. You reconsider thinking you could use an hour or two of sleep and some cushion for your ass that must hate you for the pain you put it through.  You are walking once again, carrying your bags, following the TT. He points you to a berth. You dump your bags down again and make yourself comfortable.

You call it a night. You plug in your ear phones listen to some good music and drift off into a sound sleep. You relish the experience you've had while ruing the fact that it did not last longer. So much for a night!! You close your eyes a happy man!! Text book execution you think. You finally get a few sips out of that fancy hip flask after all.  

Tripping to God's Own Country

He got into the train with the siren of the departing engine. His destination, God's Own Country, Kerala. His journey, an unknown. Train journeys had always been interesting. But this time it was different. He had baggage to carry. Things he would love to leave behind but things that might haunt him for the rest of his life. A bandaged love, a broken heart and yet a new hope, a new beginning, a new lease of life. He settled down amongst the usual clutter and chaos of a train that was still finding it's way out of the city. He wondered, as he sat there, if there was as much gloom and sadness in this world as there was in his life. Did everyone have to a pay the price he had paid at some point in their lives? Had life really boiled down to difficult choices, sadness, pain and betrayal? Was there no good left in what seemed to be a material world?

He squatted on the floor by the door and stared out at the passing fields. Some cotton, some chili, some he didn't know what. Farmers, or were they bonded laborers, tilling the fields, lost in the happy/sad memories of their own lives, living from today to tomorrow, tomorrow to the day after, always one day at a time. Did they have the luxury to retrospect, to look forward to a better day? This fleeting thought  passed just as quickly as the fields did. Now he just sat there soaking in the last rays of the setting sun, feeling the wind brush his hair, losing himself to the elements.

He watches an elderly man break into what seems like a sob. Only, it lasts for a little over 30 seconds and the man's eyes show no trace of tears. Did he have a medical condition or was he suffering from a pain, so profound, that his tears dried up, a pain so profound that it made him weep in the middle of a normal, regular conversation. He tried to fight off any thoughts that made him sad. He plugs in his ear phones. He uses the music to lift his spirits. And it does.

The train tugs along as if oblivious to the feelings of the people it was transporting, rocking them from this side to that, drowning out their joys and sorrows alike in a slow rhythmic  sound of chuk chuk chuk chuk chuk. Giving the not so happy a chance, a hope, that pain, no matter how much of it,  can be conquered; reminding the happy that no joy will ever last forever.

The fields seem to come to life all of a sudden. The bright red and the contrasting green become visible to his eyes, his eyes that he felt had forgotten to appreciate the colors and flavors of life. He is reminded of a trip he had recently made. A Birthday Bash in a beach town, a road trip in the middle of the night, a short trek to a temple on top of a hill, the singing, howling and hooting in the car, some quiet time with his friend, his only companion really in the last few weeks, the walk on the beach at sunrise. He smiles. He smiles because he knows there is still hope. He smiles because he knows there will be a new beginning. He smiles to a brighter, better tomorrow.

 The hills come along. The hills always intrigued him. Tall, magnanimous, defiant. Weathered, but still standing tall with their head high. Braving the storm, taking the wind head on, defiant in heat and cold alike, they stand tall, facing the odds. A lesson learnt? May be, but definitely commanding respect. He looks at one in particular, one with a gentle gradient. He wants to get a dirt bike and ride up the hill. He likes the idea. It's a challenge he will definitely relish. A test of his skill on two wheels. One day, in time. Something to look forward to. He sits by the door again, watching the mountains flash by, belting out the words of any and every song he knew. Classic Hindi, pop, Rock he didn't care.

He gets to his destination, almost not knowing what to do there. Guruvayur, a temple town, good people, he feels out of place. A rebel or an outcast? He couldn't tell. But the air, he thinks, feels different. It feels, clean, untouched by the vanities of human existence, pure, powerful and positive. The streets are narrow, not too many vehicles on the road, and he had to walk a good half a kilometer before he could find a decent smoke. Wow! He thinks. Back home he'd just have to walk out of his house before he'd have options to choose from. Strange town he thinks but smiles nevertheless.

The evening takes him to the temple. Skeptic, he walks out of his hotel room. He didn't believe these things. Temple, worship, prayer, these were  things that had been forgotten a very long time ago.  Faith had recently joined that bandwagon.  The experience was nothing he had ever expected. Admiration flows right out of his system the moment he enters the temple. The Hundreds of lamps of lamps lined up along the four walls of the temple are overwhelming. The nadaswaram starts. He is tripping on the sound of the trumpets and the molam.20 minutes feel like a few seconds. He wants to come back here one more time but only when he is ready.

A wedding follows. He goes to it happy and hungry. Tripping on the conversations people of sane mind were having. What was it about? An aunty thinks the future of the country is no good because they don't do half the things her generation did and because they listen to Jalebi Bai, and a friend argues that they are good because they pay their taxes on time. So this is what normal people talk about and this is how they talk, he thinks and chuckles. He tries hard to fight off his laughter. He bites his lips in an attempt to avoid offending either of them. It takes a great deal of effort for him to stop himself from being eccentric. He goes about laughing and cracking up on almost everybody he meets, enjoying the nadaswaram at the wedding, swaying to it with some head banging occasionally. In all the crowd at the wedding, he picks a 5 year old to keep him company. Someone who was his own age he thinks(Never mind how old he was getting or how grey).

He is drawn back to the temple the following morning. He is craving for the music and the hymns and chants from his first visit. He has seen his grandfather and father trip at these poojas at home. He wants to experience the same hysteria that they had experienced back then. He knows he can but he needs the nadaswaram. What a trip that would be. Dancing in a frenzy to classical music, to temple music. Aimlessly he walks around the temple in search of the music. He catches a glimpse of the temple elephant instead. A flock of people are around it. His imagination is running wild. His balance tipsy. He thinks the elephant is going to loose his mind and wreck havoc. He grins as he finds himself looking for a spot to hide. Already!

"A day that started so well can only get better", he thinks. And it does. He is drawn to the beach. To the vast, open, endless sea. He rejoices in the fishing boats, the waves, the coconut trees along side the beach, he rejoices to life. He watches the sea come to shore, longing to be there before it is pulled back in. But only until it comes back harder and stronger. Is it ever too late to try? Is it always too early to give up? Can you ever try hard enough before you give up? Should you ever give up? Questions race through his mind. The answers he would look for at a different time. Or may be not.

He ends the trip with a short visit to a God(or was he just an extraordinary man)  who he had come to admire so much. The God who was known for his Tandav, the God who knew how to chill, the God who showed him a good time, the God who, in recent times had intrigued him. He says hi to the one, the only Siva.

With a heavy heart he bids adieu to the temple town of Gurvayur. A town from which he did not expect too much but a town that he will miss. The town that gave him a good trip. He will miss the nadaswaram and the temple, he will miss the beach. How could he forget the people, the elephants and the Sadhya at the wedding.

Meenakshi Saravanan - Desire over Love

Tears were running down her face. This feeling Meenakshi was having was overwhelming. The pleasures of infidelity and lust had taken over love, trust and faith. Hell!! It beat the institution of marriage black and blue and dragged it out in a procession as if it to humiliate it further. She had finally given into temptation. She had given into her curiosity of feeling another man. She wanted to feel one more time, what she had felt so many times now with Saravanan. She had rebelled against society and all convention that told her that she was to marry one man and spend the rest of her life dutifully by his side till death do them apart. She craved to feel the same way she had felt when Saravanan had first touched her, the first time he kissed her, the first time they made love. When that did not come, she found herself succumbing to the vices of the dark desires of her heart. Tears trickled down her face even as she was enjoying Ramesh's body move back and forth on top of her, sometimes moaning, sometimes grunting.

It was going to be just another day at the office for Meenkashi. Saravanan had dropped her off in the morning. The hug and the kiss he gave her when they were newly weds had been replaced by a cold "I'll cya in the evening honey!". A lot had changed over the past year and this was one of those things. She walked in with half a heart pondering over how quickly things had changed and how she wished they had remained the same. She was having a hard time in dealing with the harsh realities of life. It made her question all those hopeless romantics who said love happens once in a lifetime. Damn right it does!! She thumped her feet to the ground as the thought crossed her mind. "But does it stay forever?", she mumbled to herself.

Lost in this train of thought as she was about to pass through the narrow pedestrian entry gate, a man in all his haste brushed past her, his leg tripping over hers and his hands involuntarily holding hers in an attempt to stop himself from falling. Meenakshi let out a gasp as she found herself pulled by gravity and the weight of the that man. The course of events that followed rocked the very foundation of her life. As the young man got to his feet, apologizing franticly for what had happened, there was only one thing that was playing in her head like a broken record. She found it hard to pull away from that sheepish grin falling rapidly to the ground, the exhilarating feeling from the embrace of that man when she was lying face down on him, that familiar feeling that sent a shiver down her spine, the feeling when Saravanan had first touched her affectionately.

A few days later when they met again, numbers were exchanged. Conversations led to coffee breaks. Coffee breaks led to Ice Cream. Ice Cream to movies at Ramesh's apartment. Before she knew it she found herself in Ramesh's arms, longing to kiss him,  her lips locked with his with a passion and a desire she had not felt in a very long time. Before she knew it she was lying flat on her back with Ramesh on top. Before she knew it she had dropped her veil of morals and was moaning to the brilliant pleasures of lust. Tears were running down her face as she knew it was too late to bail out. She had dropped her guard, she was bowled over, she was knocked out.

Was it worth it? How would she bring herself to confront Saravanan? How would she look him in the eye, straight faced, concealing her dark secret? She did not know. All she knew now was that IT felt pretty darned good!!

Meenakshi Saravanan

Saravanan thought they should go  out and get a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate fudge or some thing like that at the Barista on the next block. It was a cold winter morning. Thick cloud cover had blanketed the warmth of the morning sun and the cold breeze made the weather gloomy. Yet the air was romantic. Meenakshi didn't know if it was the events of the last night or the weather itself that made her insides tingle  with excitement, leaving a strange but pleasant knot in her belly. The pores on her body were all open, making her more sensitive to the chill in  the air. A faint smile crossed her face and was soon replaced by a sheepish grin. She was, probably for the first time in her life, feeling shy.

The last one month had been crazy.  "Mental!!", as she liked to call it. It started with her parents looking for a suitable groom and ended with her marriage to Saravanan. No one asked for her opinion and none cared if she was ready. Ready to make the biggest decision of her life, ready to let herself be given away to a stranger she would only have known for a few days, ready to give up her ambitions,  her dreams and even her career if it came to that. A decision, as was always the case had been made and it was imposed on her. She cried, wailed and even refused to eat for a week but nothing was going to come in the way of this prospective alliance. Her dad would say to her, "Saravanan has done his Masters in Management from IIM and is going to head the Marketing division of Coca Cola. You should consider yourself lucky to land someone like him." . How typical of her family to say something like that. Her intelligence, her own Master's degree from IIIT counted for so little.

As the dreaded date for her marriage drew nearer her wails had turned into meek submission; her resistance into resignation towards her fate. Little did she know that the tide was going to turn, and very soon too. Her first meeting with Saravanan, what most people in a relationship would call a first date, restored a little hope to the dwindling faith she had towards marriage. Saravanan, though burly and athletic, was very kind. Courteous even. He had shown no hint of an ego and treated her with respect, as an equal. He had appreciated her academic exploits and was even open to the idea of her working after marriage.

Short meetings were slowly turning into fun dates and the typical hi hello conversations into stimulating, exciting and fun filled chats. With every passing day, Meenakshi was getting more and more used to having Saravanan around. The initial hate that had clouded her when the engagement was announced had now been replaced by a strange longing for him and his calming presence. She had a shoulder to lean on and a patient listener to ramble out all her frustrations to. She liked that and yet there was one thing that she still dreaded. There was still one thing, she feared, she might not have the stomach or the will to bring her self to do.

These thoughts raced through her head as she lay on the bed, feeling Saravanan's unkempt beard tickle against her belly, making her gasp. She watched him gently cajole her tender breasts and roll over on top of her. He took her in her arms, held her tight and whispered, "You know, I love you! Only when you are ready!". But her senses had given way to her anxiety and she could barely hear what he said. She shut her eyes and dug her fingers deep into his back as she felt him for the first time since they had been married. The feeling was very different from what she had imagined. The thought of an alien bodily fluid entering hers had been very revolting to her but when he did come, she was filled with a strange glow. She no longer had any inhibitions left inside. It felt like a veil had been lifted and everything that was still keeping the two of them at arm's length had vanished into thin air.

On the Royal Enfield Standard, as they were they were riding into the cold gloomy morning, it was the memories of the previous night that infused the bout of excitement in her. A strange urge to wrap her arm's around Saravanan engulfed her as she smiled sheepishly at how foolishly happy she felt at the thought of it. "Enanga", she called, just to see the cute smirk across his face. She put her arms around him, held him as tight as she possibly could without strangling him, climbed up on his back and whispered, "You know, I love you too!! I couldn't happier if I wanted to."

MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga - KahaniKhatam

The battle for Faltu jagah was won but it had served it’s purpose. An alarm bell had been triggered inside each one of the SaveYourSkins, warning them that their batteries were soon going to go out. All though MujheKushRakhna's foot soldiers were no match for them, they had left the quartet gasping for breath and deprived for energy and they had yet to meet their nemesis - MujheKushRakhna. MujheKushRakhna himself was not very surprised by the dent he had suffered in his vast ego. He had hoped to eliminate the SaveYourSkins in the Battle for Faltu Jagah but he was wiser than that. The fact that the Famous Four were at half steam and the bigger fact that he would have to step in to put an end to this madness once for all had boosted his spirits and he relished every moment of it. Days were spent upgrading is BattleMan 4.0, the most potent of all war machines built by man ever and nights were spent in a little merry making and plenty of rest. Once he was sure he could now take on the last glimmer of hope that the world had, he set up base camp at Maa Ki Aankh and waited for his prey.

Maa Ki Aankh, the place where it had all started was staring the SaveYourSkins in the face. MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga order his men to rest for a while and savor the splendidness that was MaaKiAankh. He told them "Gentleman!! Today we fight our final battle, today we either live to tell our extraordinary story or we die trying, today the world will rejoice or will be reduced to a lifetime of gloom! Today, we fight! Savor this sight my friends and fellow warriors because this is what we live for and this will help us bring light back into this dark dark world. Two large mountains were staring right at them; Danda I and Danda II, with rounded peaks devoid of any vegetation and yet alarmingly beautiful and clear. Inset between the two was the endless cave that was MaaKiAankh. A gentle stream of crystal clear water trickled down at it's mouth and the cave itself was surrounded by unkempt and yet thin layer of bushes. The savage acts of mankind had not diminished the beauty of this out of this world place. Somehow, MaaKiAankh was immune to humanity and it's generations of abuse. 

With a sigh the quartet rose from their slumber to meet their destiny. The trek to MaaKiAankh took them through a steep climb along Danda I. If the trek was not enough the SaveYourSkins had to make their way through a thick jungle guarded ever so closely by beasts no man had ever seen before.  Just as the quartet felt the ground leveling under their feet, they heard  a ferocious growl that made their hearts skip a beat. Without another moment's notice, a two headed beast lunged at them like a hungry dog on a piece of juicy red meat. MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga releases his powerful beam of blue light. It seemed to have little effect on the creature, which landed a little off the quartet. The next few minutes were spent dodging the massive bull like MaiTeriPhadDoonga. Finally GolBottom's courage faltered and he let out a wild and imploring plea, "Meri Mat Maro; I was only out to save this world". The words seemed to have a magical effect on the beast. The beast that once looked like it would tear them like pieces of waste paper suddenly seemed cute as the Cat from Shrek. Folding it's giant paws it bowed down in front of the SaveYourSkins and let them pass. Thus after a grueling trek and an almost annihilating battle with MainTeriPhadDoonga, the SaveYourSkins entered the MaaKiAankh.

Relief turned to despair, elation to anger and celebrations were circumcised when the SaveYourSins set foot on the holy grounds. MujheKushRakhna was there, right in front of them, loaded with the most fiercest weaponry ever invented, waiting for their arrival. His robotic voice echoed within the confined space of the cave when he spoke, " Mera paas, power hai, paisa hai, Duniya ka sabse khatarnaak missle hai, mere paas BattleMan 4.0 hai, bolo char chutiyon, tumhare paas kya hai?? Muahahahahahahaha!!!". MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga replied in an equally theatrical way that would have put Sashi Kapoor to shame, "Humare Paas Duniya Ka Dil hai!!"

With that Mahanaatma went charging down at BattleMan 4.0 trying to suck it's source of power out. What he didn't realize was his power was only effective against humans and was no good with metallic monsters like the BattleMan. MujheKushRakhna roared with laughter as his first card played out brilliantly. He let a short range cruise missile, one of many in his armor at Mahanaatma. Just before the impact GolBottom leaped from his vantage point to save his friend and fellow warrior. The missile rebounded off his ample bottom straight back at MujheKushRakhna. The impact had taken it's toll on GolBottom. Like liposuction does to body fat,  the missile ripped apart Gol's bottom, leaving only a kottori bum where just a moment before, there was a giant Kadai Bum.

With Mahanaatma and GolBottom out of the equation, it was now left to MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga and UskiDum to save the world and send MujheKushRakhna back to the pavilion with his swanky tail back in his bum. UskiDum caught MujheKushRakhna and his BattleMan 4.0 by surprise when his extended tail wrapped around BattleMan's leg and left them lying on all fours. MaiDuniyaKoBachaoonga   then used the momentary confusion caused by UskiDum and let out a machine gun like fire of his powerful blue light. The force field prevented the first few assaults but eventually it gave in to the power and might of MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga. As MujheKushRakhna tried to retaliate, UskiDum took his extended tail and obstructed MujhKushRakhna's vision while he carefully and stealthily wrapped his tail around the arms and legs of the BattleMan.

The next few shots from MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga were directed right at the heart of the BattleMan. Slowly, part by part the BattleMan started to fall apart. This had not gone too well with the evil warlord. When the final nail was drilled into BattleMan's 8 feet coffin, MujheKushRakhna leaped out of it's remains with a fierce roar.

Seizing this opportunity and in an attempt to redeem his pride, Mahanaatma started to suck the soul out of the evil dictator's body. It all seemed to work just like every other time. At least until the very last minute. When MujheKushRakhna's soul seemed to have been consumed by Mahanaatma, he suddenly rose back up from the dead. Alarmed and purely by reflex, UskiDum wrapped his gigantic tail around MujheKushRakhna's body and crushed him to death. Or At least that was what they thought. But MujheKushRakhna returned from the dead and was unscathed. MujheKushRakhna's laughter resonated within the cave. The SaveYourSkins were left clueless.

Surprised by this new development, MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga reorganized his meager ranks. While GolBottom deflected the powerful drone attacks MujheKushRakhna was sending their way, UskiDum on MainDuniyaKobachaoonga's orders wrapped up MujheKushRakhna in the deadly clutches of his tail. Mahanaatma then started to suck the life out of the evil dictator and when only 2% of MujheKushRakhna was left to be copied, MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga sent his jet of blue light straight at the evil war lord wiping his sorry ass into oblivion.

The Save Your Skins had come out victorious, they beat MujheKushRakhna, against all the odds. An evil dictator had fallen. A new beginning was waiting for the world. The world would once again be a free place to love in.

Epilogue

MainDuniyaKobachaoonga and the SaveYourSkins' rise to power got to their heads. The world enjoyed a brief period of freedom before yet another dictator took over the world. This time it was the one who had saved them. MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga's ideals and philosophy brought the world to a complete stand still yet again within the same century. With sanctions on use of petroleum and any anti-environment fuel sources, warring factions broke out between the environmentalists and oil barrens. The world was once again plunged into darkness with no hope left. It was apocalyptic.

MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga - The Battle for Faltu Jagah

Tik! Boooooooooom! A loud explosion sent UskiDum lying face down in the muck. The President's men, no, the President's mercenaries had finally caught up with them. They had counted their chickens before they hatched. Suddenly Maa Ki Aankh sounded eons away. Just as they were thinking through their plan of action a second missile dug a deep crater just a few meters from them. This was not going to be easy. They'd have to give their everything. The odds were in favor of them dying. Sigh! What is it with the 25th century and super heroes. Were they not meant to be?

Like a bolt of lightening, the words spoken by their guru, their mentor, rang in their ears. "When the world spits in your face and your searching for the place where it all started, you will be blessed with powers you would never have imagined you could possess. It will then help you fulfill your life's purpose. ". Life had spit in their face, the two scud missiles had more than just done that with Uskidum. They were searching for the place where it all started. It was Maa ki Aaankh. This was their guru's prophecy. They were to be blessed with special powers.

But everything happening around them was telling them otherwise as yet another scud dug yet another gaping hole, this time behind where they were holed up. Frustration was creeping in as they realized they were no match for these armed mercenaries without their special powers. In a rare out burst of rage MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga yelled, "Aaaaaargh!!! I will save this world and you will not stop me". He raised his hand holding it up parallel to the ground. What happened next caught everyone including the Save Your Skins off guard. A jet of blue pulsating light blanketed one whole company of the mercenaries, wiping them out into oblivion.

An instant later it all fell together for the Save Your Skins, like the pieces of a Jigsaw puzzle. Their powers were either their inherent qualities or were hidden in their names. MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga's power was his controlled aggression which he could wield into pulsating, destructive beams of light. GolBottom's was his hopelessly heavy weight. He could use it to bounce of the missiles heading their way. He was their defense mechanism. He was their insurance policy. UskiDum as his name suggested could wield a long swooping tail which could hold captive over a 1000 troops at a time. Mahanaatma could suck the life force, a person's soul, out of who ever he deemed unnecessary baggage.

With this new revelation for the Save Your skins, there was a new sting in their tail. Their depleting morale had bobbed back up and shot through the roof. MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga and GolBottom teamed up. While GolBottom provided cover from the scuds, MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga set about wiping out company after company into oblivion. From a crouching position, MainDuniyaKoBachaoonga jumped over an approaching missile, rolling over it and landing on his feet. Stretching hi hand out, he let a bolt of pulsating blue light through his hands. The troops in front felt for a moment, the vibrations caused by the powerful bolt of light before they ceased to exist in any form or shape. Mahanaatma and UskiDum were equally at work. While UskiDum scooped up groups of soldiers into the deadly clutches of his long tail, Mahanaatma sucked the souls out the hapless soldiers. Each soul making him stronger and more powerful than the one before.  

Company after company was wiped out in a matter minutes. The President's men had fallen. Those who had not, went scampering away to their evil master with news of the great powers possessed by their master's chief enemies, The Save Your Skins.

The battle for Faltu Jagah was won. Maa Ki Aankh itself however remained unconquered.