Ah, what a journey through Half Marathon and then #MyFriendAlexa and of course #FriendlyReader. Thank you The Blog Chatter @BlogChatter for creating such a generous platform. Kudos to you for bringing together some most beautiful people to know at on place and this one place is no less than a ‘Creative Earth’.
This Haiku is dedicated to you team @BlogChatter
Fledglings on the ground
Creating, cuddling together
Your harnessing warmth!
I remember how infrequent writer I am. It is more than Seven Years that I started on Blogging and had hardly written enough. I am realizing that I had written only 35 Posts with 203 Comments on my English Blog. I shall try to be a little more regular now onward.
Guess what, among these 35 posts 22 are after my joining ‘The Blog Chatter’. Thank you once again.
Within this journey of few months, I have been busy working on my first Novel (Fiction), but I met with some beautiful people whose presence itself motivated me enough to keep writing for my Blog. The Result – The Novel is searching for its Publishers and my fingers right now typing this gratitude.
The secondary result is the Alexa. Just before joining #MyFriend Alexa my Alea was in some crores and today; while writing this post’; it is 3,526,098 Global Rank. It means a lot and thank you every body for giving my writes your precious time and leaving me with your valuable comments.
Thank you Saumy Nagayach for being stay put with me since my first short story post.
Modern Gypsy! Gypsy! Really. Thank you for giving me such valuable inputs and thank you even more for some brilliant writes of yours. I am sure that I will write a post shortly of my astral occult experiences. Some experience I have written in my Novel too .
Tarang Sinha. Thank you for your time and hope your Novel is doing well.
Tina Basu. Thank you. Hope you are enjoying your Haiku times.
Maurya Amarkant, Atul Maharaj, Shalini, Rajlakshmi, Anil, Shweta Dave, Roma Gupta Sinha, Ramesh Sood, Rashmi Lingappa, Deepa, awkwardearthling , Amrita Basu Misra, MPJ, Indu Chibber, Vinay Leo R, Shalini19, Subha Rajagopal, Payal, Deepti, Ambrish Tripathi, Uppal and All, I cannot thank you much. I am because you are.
This write (in Sanskrit) is dedicated to you all (This is about the concept of oneness against duality. This is dealt widely in my Novel)
Twam Swaha, Twam Swadha, Twameva hi Ishwaratmika!
(त्वम् स्वाहा , त्वम् स्वधा, त्वमेव ही इश्वरात्मिका
शिवोऽहं, शिवोऽत्वं !!)
In this journey I have gone through many brilliant writes. On some I have commented and on some I was not able to comment. They all are brilliant and forgive me for not commenting upon.
The auspicious seasons of festivals are here. I wish all prosperous, Navratra, Deepavali and Chaath.
Some ten young people were running in a narrow lane shouting at one another. All of them were in their mid to late twenties. A six feet tall, fair, handsome looking man was leading the gang. He was one shouting “Get hold of him.” All of them were having open and loaded guns in their hand. The man leading was holding Webely Scott four five - five calibre revolver and rest of the men were holding country made three knot three single shot pistols.
It was a narrow cull – de – sac lane. People on the lane ran for their shelters and those who were at their home shut their doors and windows. There was a pin drop silence and everyone could hear those men running. People were peeping outside from their windows.
Four young men were sitting at the door of their house and were bantering among themselves when they saw those men coming towards them. They ran and “Clinkk”
The first shot was fired from one of the country made pistol.
“Who fired. He is mine. Nobody will fire another shot.” The leader shouted.
"I will show him today what power means." He roared while running.
Speed of the four guys slowed as they looked back with the sound and the group reached them.
Four people grabbed one of them and stroke him hard.
“Run away you bastards.” One of those men threatened the rest of the three. They ran for their shelter.
The gang leader dragged the fourth person by his collar. There was a rectangular space at the end of the lane. There were houses all around that space and there was a well at the centre of the rectangle.
They dragged him near the well and forced his head down on the elevated edge of the well. The leader put the barrel of his gun on that man’s lobe.
Webely rammed for six time and there was blood all around. Those holding that guy had blood and pieces of his brain on their shirt.
The gang leader roared and threw his body inside the well.
Residents of the lane were witnessed every single moment from their roof top at the mid of afternoon.
The gang ran towards the concrete wall of cull – de – sac and scaled it. They jumped over the other side and within minutes vanished in the crowd near the railway track.
Within minutes siren of police vehicles echoed that lane and the team reached there. Followed by them came journalists, forensic experts, ambulance and crying members of the killed man.
Everything was so perfect. Everyone was doing ones job with utmost perfection and there was nothing to grudge for. Everyone knew that the gang will be arrested and booked by the law sooner than later.
It was only I who thought “Ah, humanity died again.”
I am still thinking "Has the power really been showed?"
Oh, my musings.
Utpal Kant Mishra
Sep. 22, 2016
P.S: This work of Fiction is being linked to #BlogChatter @BlogChatter for #MyFriendAlexa Week 4. This is my Musing ‘aloud’.
As we believe, we live in the most advanced era of humankind.
“21st Century. Wow! Advancements, riches, exploration, knowledge, power what not we do have now.”
“Awareness and empathy, do you have that?”
“Yes, we have most effective Media now.”
“Ah, then you must be knowing your world in and out.”
“Oh, yes. We have google too.”
“Ah ha! You are so very advanced. I just wanted to blabber something.”
“Go ahead. I am sitting here free for my Friday Drinks. You know I need to relax.”
“Yeah Sure. You need to relax over your drinks.”
“21,000 people die of hunger or hunger related causes every day in our world. This is one person every four second. Children die most often. We had given you plenty of Food for everyone. How did these people get trapped in poverty and that too to an extent where they do not have money to buy their food? Ah, food is to be bought, the most advanced Versions of Human kinds.”
“No no. You carry on with your drink. I am just blabbering. I will do this a little more.
- Some 795 Million people in the world do not have enough food to lead a healthy and active life.
- 12.9% of the population of developing countries is malnourished.
- Poor nutrition is causing almost 45% of death in children which is 3.1 Million each year.
- One in four of the world’s children are stunted. (This includes developed countries as well)
Something specific to India
-194.6 Million undernourished people.
- one quarter of all unnourished people on the planet live in India.
- It is home of one third of worlds stunted children that is 38.7% of the children under 5 Years of age.”
"You might be having many things with you now but you are the loneliest of the humankind."
(Data Sources: World Food Program and Poverty.com)
I was travelling by LTT – RJPB Express from Mumbai to Patna. The train had just left Jabalpur station and was cruising slowly over the tracks. It was May and at around 4:30 PM there was scorching heat outside. I was sitting in the AC 2 Compartment at one of the side lower seats and was looking outside.
There was a raised flat platform just besides the track beyond the boundaries of the railway station. A banyan tree near that platform was showering its bliss as soothing shelter to the platform. On that platform sat two couples.
I saw them and kept looking at them. When the train gained speed I went over to the gate of the boggy, opened it and leaned over.
They were two old malnourished beggars wearing their dirty and torn clothes.
“Did I say old? How could I be so sure? Poverty brings age much earlier than destined.”
The woman was giving massage on the right leg of her man and her man was gently massaging her hand moving over his leg. They were whispering among themselves.
“Are you feeling comfortable now?” I guessed them asking one another. The Sun stood shy and the heat stupefied. I came back to my seat feeling warm in the air conditioned boggy.
I am asking myself “Is love all about you and I or is it all about We?”
The Nebula of Stars In the Dark Constellation Amidst the Black Holes Twinkling, Humane ...... !!!
Utpal kant Mishra Mumbai
P.S: This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. This Poetry is for the Last Day of Half Marathon Day 15 #DailyChatter It has been a great journey and through this I have got an opportunity to go through some fantastic works.
“You were never out of my life Amaay but you need to understand at least now that you have to live many lives in one life and for this you need to take decisions within time frame” She said in a very calm tone and continued “We are all like the ethereal azure sky. It has no existence but it exists. Sometimes it is shadowed by the clouds and sometimes it is shiny blue. Few years back we had no existence and few years hence, we will have no existence, but we exist. Memories do exist and with memories we, our emotions and our relationships exist. The memories are sometimes shadowed by the clouds and sometimes they are clear and we continue to exist in stories which are sometimes told and sometimes remembered in perfect solitude”. I kept on listening to her completely mesmerised.
The gravest problem with curiosity does not lie in the information that one gathers but it actually lies in processing that information with an opinionated perception. All these years I had my opinion about Nisha as an immature and impulsive woman. All my perception shattered within flash of a second.
“Your husband and your baby didn’t come with you?” I asked just to change the topic as I had started feeling somewhat guilty.
“Hmm” she sensed my feeling and allowed me the space I needed badly at that moment.
“How are they?”
“They can’t be any better!”
The entire gang knew about our relationship and so they had left us alone.
“I have heard that you had an accident sometime back?”
“Yes. It was a car accident.”
“Hope you didn’t get hurt much.”
“How is your job doing?” She changed the topic.
“That is going great and I got three promotions in two years.”
“Nisha, why don’t you come over to my place with your husband and baby on some weekend? We will have a great time together.”
I learnt another lesson which is going to be with me for my entire lifetime and that is, not to form any opinion about anybody or anything.
I was dragging my body inside the aircraft. I don’t remember how and when I completed the formalities of boarding. I was awake but I was not. I was in some trance which I was not able to understand. The aircraft was taxiing now but I was still in the bar, standing numb and my ears resonating constantly -
“That accident!” after a deep pause she continued “My husband and my baby” and with a sight she concluded “I lit their pyre…….”
I had my earphone plugged in and I could listen to the song, as if it were coming from some far away….
People, all around
You stand alone….. !
Feeling, life around
You stand alone…. !
Un hun … hmm .. hun un
Sha ka la ka
Come along live us together
Till we breathe, till we are live
Egos! on the shelf
“I” ness shredded around
Come on! Live! Till we are live
Humans! we are
Let us realize ………. !
Un hun … hmm .. hun un
Utpal Kant Mishra
P.S. This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. This write is a work of Fiction and this part is the ending part of this short story. Day 14 #DailyChatter
Nisha moved a little ahead of the group and was standing alone, sipping her drink.
“I could see a lot of change in you. You were so energetic and bubbly just four years back and now look at you, you are sounding like a mature person.” I reached her and by now I had decided to talk directly with her without any formalities and hesitation.
“I am still energetic and probably I am now more energetic and trust you me on this” She smiled.
“How could I know this, but I trust you”. I sounded comfortable.
“I must say you have matured” I continued with my eyes twirling as I tried to tease her this time.
There was silence for a few minutes that made me think that this was not a proper statement.
“In - fact we all have matured” I tried to loosen up the supposed stressful situation.
“We have matured? Or we have aged?” She was still smiling and with small sigh put her point calmly.
This sentence hit me hard in my heart and I realised how meaningful this small statement is. It’s true; maturity has no linkage with age.
This is the first time today that my eyes got fixed on her face for a few minutes. I realised that this is not the same Nisha I had been with or she was always the same but I never noticed when we were together. She is more mature and with the right side of things than I have ever thought.
“If you were this mature all the time, why did you take that kind of decision and for God’s sake, you understand what I am talking about. A little more time could have kept me in your life.” There was an unfamiliar anxiety in my voice while saying this to her.
Utpal Kant Mishra
(To be continued)
PS: This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. This story is a work of Fiction. Day 13 #DailyChatter
I was so happy to see my batchmates after four years and for a change all were dressed up as gentlemen.
“It is so good to see you after such a long time” They all moved towards me and spontaneously I moved towards them to hug each one.
The warmth of love from old friends is incomparable.
“Thanks for coming” Akash hugged me saying this.
“Oh ho! So here is the most gentlemanly groom, guys. He has learnt being formal with buddies.” I teased him.
All laughed and we again hugged one another.
“Where are others?” I asked on seeing only ten of us present.
“They couldn’t make it Amaay. The distance and preoccupations made them change their plans” Akash answered smilingly.
“Yes, distance matters” I tried to convince myself in a grunted voice.
“Leave this entire thing buddy; it’s time to hit the bar. You guys make yourself comfortable” Akash changed the topic to enliven our mood.
“You don’t worry Mr. Groom. We will look after ourselves. You be with your family and wish you happy martyring” somebody cracked a joke and we all laughed.
“Hey! Here comes Nisha. What a wonderful surprise” with all warmth and surprise, they moved forward to welcome Nisha.
I turned back and glanced at Nisha. In multi embellished grey and white combinational wide border with ethnic prints georgette saree complemented with gold jewelry and high heels; she was looking stunningly gorgeous. With her hair open and a white bindiya on her forehead she made most of the heads turn towards her for a moment.
All the batchmates walked towards her and greeted her. She hugged Akash and wished him.
“Welcome Nisha and thank you for making my marriage memorable. Please make yourself comfortable with the gang. I shall join you guys after the rituals.”
“Yes Akash and do not worry about us. We will be comfortable together. Best of luck and stay blessed.” Nisha made Akash comfortable.
“Let’s go to the bar Nisha” someone from the gang requested.
“What would you like to have Nisha?”
“I will pick a Pina colada”
“What! Pina - Colada? Come on Nisha; catch up at-least with the beer”
Nisha smiled and asked politely for Pina Colada again.
“You have become so serious and formal Nisha. I hope all is good.”
“Couldn’t have been better and motherhood brings metamorphic changes in women guys.”
“That is one stroke in a million. We surrender.” Saying this Harish ordered for a Pina - Colada for her.
I took up a large of Laphroaig with a dash of water and non- stirred. By now I was feeling smoky and I just wanted to taste smoke.
Utpal Kant Mishra
P.S: This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. This story is a work of Fiction. Day 12 #DailyChatter
It was my turn now for the counter and I was mechanically doing the formalities while mentally I was thinking about our last days together. I was in a hurry to catch up with her and have some talks. I was curious to know about her past four years.
I now knew that curiosity never ends, it simply changes the subject to keep us engaged with it.
She was sipping coffee at café coffee day when I entered the boarding lounge. I went over to the counter and helped myself with a Latte while she coldly watched me.
There were so many things I wanted to talk about but suddenly I was groping even for the first greeting word.
It sounds easy but it is really difficult to accept sudden changes and it is even more difficult to change one to adjust in the new way of life.
“Hi!” with great difficulty I could greet her with this only.
“Yes” she smiled.
“What’s your seat number?”
The boarding announcement flashed and she picked up her hand bag.
I realised that eight line conversation has taken approximately thirty odd minutes and just four years back in these many minutes we used to talk almost half a novel’s volume. I was sure that now I don’t have a chance of in flight conversation so I took my seat with all my curiosity standing inside my mind.
Humans by nature are curious without knowing that curiosity is contagious at times and surely at all the times when this curiosity is about your Ex. It keeps on pestering you till its quench is satiated.
Two hours and forty minutes passed like a decade when the aircraft landed at Bengaluru. It took me three hours to meander through the maddening traffic of Bengaluru in a taxi to reach The Zuri Whitefield. I sighed in relief that I do not have to be in traffic after this ride as both marriage and reception was in this hotel itself. By the time I reached hotel I needed a hot water bath before doing anything. I freshened up and dressed myself in single breasted cummerbund Tuxedo and headed for the marriage hall.
Utpal Kant Mishra
P.S: This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. This story is work of Fiction. Day 11 #DailyChatter
In the month of June we had our convocation and on the same evening we had our farewell party. This was the last day I met Nisha and that too like strangers.
It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold.
I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend’s wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. This wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batchmates. But what I didn't know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter.
I was almost sure it was she. Same height! Same long hair! Same complexion! Curiosity had my eyes glued to her. And then about 60-odd seconds later, when she turned, she proved me right. My ex- girlfriend stood two places ahead of me in that queue. We had never met after the college farewell.
Our eyes met again but this time it was all different. When she was not an Ex, whenever our eyes met we felt livelier but today our eye contact has given me a cold feet.
We kept standing frozen for a few minutes trying to compose ourselves.
“Excuse me” the person behind Nisha murmured.
We were not yet composed enough to notice the movement of the queue. The person ahead of Nisha had already cleared his formalities and it was now Nisha’s turn.
“Oh Yes! I am sorry” Nisha murmured and moved towards the counter.
“Oh shit! I was almost sure and not fully! It was just four years back when I could have recognised her from anywhere. Is this me?” I was musing, surprised, while she cleared her formalities.
“Times change so fast” I was thinking “It is true that with time feelings do change”. I had heard this lot many times but this was the first time that I have realised this.
I had never been philosophical ever in my life but I don’t know why I was becoming like one, at this moment. “Is it really the time that changes or is it us who do?”
Utpal Kant Mishra Mumbai
P.S: This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter, This story is a work of Fiction. In this part lines from "It was still dawn ..." to "We had never met ...." was the prompt of the author on which this story has been written. Day 10 #Blog Chatter
I entered the Café Coffee Day outlet at
Barakhambha Road in Delhi. This is a quiet place despite being situated at one
of the busiest roads of Delhi. The first thing I noticed; as soon as I entered
the shop; that it was having nicely maintained room temperature which was
extremely comforting during an afternoon of May. As soon as the glass door of
the outlet shut hydraulically, the outlet became free from outside noise. It
was a nicely decorated outlet with pictures and posters depicting the theme –
‘History of coffee’ on the wall. The outlet is more in length than in width
which is spaciously decorated with small round tables with three to four chairs
around each table to accommodate the patrons. On the right hand side were two
three seater sofas with rectangular tables and on the other side of the table
were two chairs each for accommodating a larger group. During this time, the
outlet is relatively having very few patrons inside and I noticed Nisha sitting
at one of the right hand side sofas.
“Hi! Is everything good with you? I am just
worried. Why have you called me here?” So many questions I hurled at her before
I could sit on the chair in front of her.
“What would you have?” She asked me directly.
I gazed at her in surprise “What happened? You
are sounding cold.”
She kept silent so I just went to the counter
and ordered a Latte for myself.
“Today one year is over,” She plainly said.
“One year! One year of what?” I exclaimed in
“So you forgot and this is what I was
expecting” she said in a firm voice and continued “I have to hear from you what
you have decided about our relationship. We had decided to talk about it after
one year and so today is that date.”
I was wondering how meticulous females are in
remembering the dates.
“Nisha! You know my family background. I need
to settle down in my life first and then only I can marry. Can’t you wait till
“Define your notion of settlement and how long
is this going to take?”
I was answerless.
“Amaay! I can’t keep on waiting for an
undefined time. I also have a family and a background. I waited for your answer
for one year after having discussions with you and you forgot that discussion
also. I have been with you from past five years and you have still not made up
your mind! We both have job offers and our convocation is due next month. What
else can make you feel settled?”
“Nisha! I just need some more time. That’s all
I am asking for.”
“A year before you had to say this only Amaay”
“I need time, Nisha”
“I don’t have, Amaay”
There is a deep silence.
“Amaay! I can’t give it more time. Let us move
on.” She said tearfully in broken voice and stood up.
“Please don’t go …….. “ I said in a husky voice.
separately with tears in our eyes.
(To Be Continued)
Utpal Kant Mishra
P.S: This write is linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. This is the first part of the story and the story will continue. This story has been written on the prompt of another author and it is a work of Fiction. Day 9 #DailyChatter
Sheaf of Ash "I" Burnt in fire transformed to Dust Got mixed with Soil ! From the same Soil new "I" took birth ! Again Fire ... Ash ... Dust .... Soil ! Utpal Kant Mishra Mumbai July 15th, 2016
P.S: This write is for and is being linked to Half Marathon 2016 by Blog Chatter. The first 7 Days will be for 7 Poetry(s) and the last 8 Days for Short Story(s). All these 15 days write will be for Half Marathon 2016. #DailyChatter Day 1
'Of course I'm. Survival of the
fittest, mother. I'm not going against Darwin. Also I don't want unnecessary
scars on my body.'
It's a known fact that we are all
born to die. And frankly, I don't understand why it has to be made into such a
big deal. If it were not for my mother I would have said that to the bunch of
people outside my house, some of them with young kids, shouting slogans, waving
placards, literally wanting me to cut one of my beating hearts out. "Save
A Life. Donate!" they shout.
For someone who is one in
billions, 7.125 billion to be exact, I expect to be treated better. Scientists
are still befuddled regarding my condition that gave me two hearts in my
mother's womb. But years of research and sticking needles into me have led them
nowhere, and they have labelled me as a freak mutation. It's so rare -
literally one in all humankind - that they didn't even name the anomaly (as
they call it, I will call it awesomeness). I wanted to name the condition
myself, something on the lines of Rhea's Heartsawesome but the doctors aren't
thrilled with the suggestion. Instead they want to cut one of them out and save
a life. Huh?
An IQ of 180, increased
concentration, exceptional athleticism and a phenomenal metabolism rate - are
just the few boring benefits of an increased blood circulation. Why would I
ever give that up?
My mother has kept her gaze on
“Moreover, I refuse to be their
Guinea Pig anymore.” Unsure of what my mother’s gaze mean, I said adherently to
put forth my decision.
Thankfully at this time my cell
phone rings. My phone is kept on the centre table of our sofa and the five and
a half inch odd screen is quite visible to her. The caller’s identity is on the
screen and it reads “Dracula”. I didn’t pick the phone.
“Who is this Dracula, darling?” She
“The hospital guys, who else?
Every time I am there, they insert needles of different size and shape and take
my blood and tissues out.” I said sarcastically.
“What is this call for?”
“They had an appointment with me
today and so they must be calling for confirmation from their Guinea.”
“That’s ok, Rhea. Take the call
and tell them what you have to say.” This was so assuring of her.
I know she is with me and I have
her consent. The phone rings again and this time I pick it up to answer
“I wold appreciate if you cancel
“All right, which next date you
would like to have?”
“Well, I will call and fix up
“But Rhea, you know your doctor is
not available all the time. Would you like me to give you dates when he is
available, so that you could plan accordingly?”
“I am sort of busy now, I will
call back myself.”
I cut the unnecessary commercial
discussions short. Anyway, now that I have made my decisions and I know that my
mother is with me, all this was useless. I wonder why she is always with me.
“Hm, Bye Mom! I will see you in
the evening.” I pushed myself hurriedly toward the main door.
“Rhea, we need to discuss on this
“Yes Mom, we will keep on
discussing this whenever you would like.” I rushed back and hugged her and
again rushed towards the door. I just want to be out. I am feeling too light
today. I have never felt like this before. I feel I have many more hearts
pumping. I want to fly, I want to be with flowers, trees, sun everything. I am
“Beware Rhea, they are still
“Don’t worry mom! I am not going
to mess with them.” I raise both my arms in assurance and with her smile I open
"Save A Life. Donate!" the
sound became louder and they try to encircle me.
I kept my head low and pushed myself
ahead out of the crowd. I wanted to say a lot of things to them but I kept
silent for the sake of my dearest darling, my Mom. I would have said “I want
you to suggest me why shall I let one of my beating hearts being cut out. It is
only a couple of days when I read the news that a man was slapped a bill of
Twenty Five Lacks of Rupees for his heart transplant. TWENTY FIVE LACKS! It is
freaking when thousands are dying for not having their basic necessities meet.
The one who has donated his heart, which is now beating in this man, has given
it out of compassion and your people have made a business out of it. Does he or
the team that has transplanted know how many more days it is going to beat? May
be a day or for another hundred years. How does that matter? Life and death
both are immaterial, what is important is the deed and to do a deed; that
matters to mankind, one need not keep on living in his temporal body for years.
You should have been there with your placards. But no, you are here. I am not
here for business of yours people. I have my business to do for which HE has
sent me here. Excuse me till I am alive. Do whatever you want or take whatever
you need after I am dead. Tear my body, burn it or bury it, but till I am alive
let me be with what I have. It has been enough for me with scissors and
A few minutes’ walk and the shouting
are gone. I can now go wherever I want. “Where shall I go? Ah, let me first
have some time to think where to go. Yes, I need some time after all these
years. I have been alive all these years and now I have to live. A coffee will
There is a park on the opposite
side of the coffee house. By my last sip, I knew I want to spend my time; at
least for today, at this park with nature breathing some fresh air and enjoying
my new found freedom.
I crossed the road and started
spending time with lush green grass, green and red leaved trees, flowers and
birds. I started imitating birds’ voices and without realising I started to
sing. I am finding rhythm in everything. Some people around were laughing and
some smiling at me but I couldn’t see them. I was inside me. There is nothing
but music all around and I could feel the entire universe inside me.
realise that there is someone else with me, inside this internal Universe.
He is a lanky guy with slightly
pigmented complexion. Among all he is different as he is also immersed in his
own self. He is wearing a beatific smile and he is muttering something. At
times he is raising his hands and with hands he opens his eyes. I could see
epicanthic fold in his eyes that are making it appear small and slightly tilted.
I could also mark his shoulders slightly slanting towards his front. He is sitting alone on one of the benches in
the park and there is lot of space to adjust two more people. Something inside
me stirred and induced me to go and occupy the same bench.
“We are sounding similar names.”
“Yes, with some juggling in your
letters and adding one more for me.” He smiled.
“I am impressed with your sense
“Really, but I am not supposed to
“WHAT and why?” I was surprised
to my wits by his answer.
“Because I am not like you, I am
a mutation as they say.”
“The Freaking Mutation you mean
to say, in which something either is increased or decreased!”
“Yes, how do you know?”
“Alas! I thought I am the only
“What has gone increased or
decreased in you?”
“Oh! I am an increased case. I
have two hearts.”
“Oh! I too am an increased case.
I have forty seven chromosomes instead of forty six.”
“WOW, Wow, wow! So we can be
He shakes my hand in the gesture
of friendship. His touch mesmerised me not because it is the first time I am
touching a male but because of his extremely soft hand, caring touch and
honesty in his touch. I am a woman and so I am gifted with the sense of touch.
We kept on chatting for long when he says
“It is getting late. We must go.
It is not safe these days, especially for women and that too when you are a
“Are we meeting tomorrow?”
We decide on time and we left for
our home. I am feeling elated today. I have got the newly find freedom, dealt
with the resistance successfully and met a friend today. What a day! I feel
like calling this day as “the day of liberation”.
Mom was sitting at the same place
when I entered my home. She reads my smile on my lips and a blissful peace on
my forehead and sighs.
“Good evening, Rhea. Did you have
something to eat?”
Now I remember what I was
forgetting the whole day. It was The Food. Mom brings me the food and we sit
together on the dining table.
“So Rhea ….”
“I know mother what you want to
talk about but can you give me a few days?”
Days kept on passing, Rehan and I
kept on meeting on regular basis. I have found him to be loving and honest
person who belongs to a well-educated and reputable family. This was the same park but another morning
and we are sitting on the same bench.
“What they call your mutation, Rehan?”
“Doctors and Scientists call it
Trisomy 21 and common people call it Down Syndrome.”
“And yours, what do they call?”
“They failed to name mine one so
I named it myself. I call it awesomeness. Isn’t it great? Trisomy 21! Down
Syndrome! How boring. Why don’t you name it something interesting, Rehan?
Suddenly there was a glow on his
face and he became excited like a child “Yes, I will call it wholesomeness.”
“Wow! Now it is interesting.
Awesomeness and wholesomeness! We both have something extra which no one else
I see his glow waning and sadness
wearing his eyes.
“I wish, I did not have this extra.
I could also have been like others. The normal ones.” He continues “You know
Rhea, The doctors and scientists wanted me to be killed when I was in the womb.
They had their fear of my having severe heart problems, growth problems and
mental retardness. But my parents held on. The school I was admitted in threw
me out as they felt I needed special attention and the speciality school I was
admitted in did not give any attention on me. I have seen my parents’ breaking
down every now and then but they never gave up. They had their faith in me. My
father took me to another country, by joining a low ranked job, just to give me
what I deserved, rather needed. There I got it, my education, not the way these
normal people get it but the special way.”
I sensed his confidence getting
low and I intervened “And you became an accountant today. Moreover, now you
have got your first acting assignment in the commercial movie and you have
received in numerous awards. So, where is your metal retardness and what about
“Right, they know intelligence
and map IQ but they know nothing about multi – intelligence.”
“Can you list me some other
mesmerising downsides of your mutation?”
“I have mild hypotonia and I have
learning disabilities, as they call it. My heart didn’t develop any serious
conditions as per their expectation.”
“So what did they say then?”
“They said, they don’t know.
Everyone is different and they cannot predict anything. What they know is that
we have some extra chromosomes and then they have some statistics of theirs.
Every case is being added in this statistics making them even more confused.
You know Rhea, we are mere Guinea Pig for them.”
“Bang on, Rehan! This is what I
want you to understand. They think that this freaking mutation is happening
for the first time as either they have their eyes closed or they pretend the
same. Mutation is rule of change and advancement. From gargantuan they became
humans as they appear today. Being insecure with our development, Huh! They
fear dissimilarities. Fear of unknown. How unromantic of them! They are content
of seeing similarity day in day out.”
seeing his confidence coming back to him and I continued.
want to see freedomness, oceanness, boundrylessness, liberationness and many others?”
Come with me. I hold him by his hands and almost drag him. We board an auto –
rickshaw and reached “The Happening”. This is one society where I am found when
not with Mother and Rehan. We are nurturing and nourishing our kinds of people who
all call mutation without extracting them economically.
know Rehan, 1 out of 66 births in the world today is Autism, 1 out of every 700
births in USA only is Trisomy 21 and that too after senseless abortions, then
there is cerebral palsy, Monogenic, Thalassaemia, Fragile X Syndrome and many more that they
know. Then there are many like me who they still don’t know. Here, we have
given ourselves our own names. Will you be my partner in helping them attain
their mutational maturity where they learn to overcome their so called
weaknesses and form a new world within this world, through my intelligence and
I see Rehan
resurrecting and feel as if he is naming this moment as “The Awakening”.
say my mutation is Infertile and …..”
I hold his
hand hard and kiss him on his lips. He is melting. My mother and others watch
the breeze going serene, birds being stagnant, music flowing in the universe,
the sky and the entire galaxy becoming witness to this moment. Our matter is
melting. He kisses me tongue to tongue and everyone witnesses new mutation
happening. Matter is dissolved and ethereal molecules are mingling to generate
one entity. Awesomeness and wholesomeness are becoming one. Here up-rises a
bold and beautiful “The One”. Half part female and half male in one. Rhea and Rehan!
Utpal Kant Mishra
Disclaimer: This write has been written on a prompt given by another Author. First few lines till "Why would I ever give it up?" is the prompt. Further, this write is a work of pure fiction.