Scarred Nation

Thoughts 2:

 When a person dehumanizes another on the basis of his or her religion, caste, nationality,  gender or sexual orientation, the act of violence first happens in his or her thought, it manifests in the language used and finally leaves a mark of it's intentions on a body. The wounds heal, but scars always remain as an indelible mark of shame and disgrace. A forward-looking civilization should stop this vicious cycle not only at it's consequence but at it's very roots.

Saravanan

The tragedy of the tangerines

Short fiction 10:

They said they'll bring back the glorious days of the past. That ancient legacy of this great civilization. He was told that they will save his religion from the jaws of secularism. That he can now wear his identity in his sleeve. The fear of his fellow others forced him to vote for vigilantes. Voting in favor of them was his dharm, they nudged. He never knew that he was opening a Pandora's box. The EVMs invoked the demons of history that has come back to haunt his nation again. Like a true bhakt he felt whatever unfolded thereafter was meant to happen in the name of Ram. Hatred was sowed in the barren lands of democracy. Times passed by.

Nothing improved his farm income for years now. Although there has been a good crop of tangerines in Nagpur this time. He thought the color of his future would be orange. It's been four years since his son graduated. He couldn't fetch a job. His son had a bad temperament which reminded him of his youth. He always advised him to remain calm. Interests accrued upon his student loan and the family was caught in a debt trap. The bank officers made a frequent visit to warn them. He looked up and asked his God if he's been tested. He lost hope of the promises that were made to him. He knew he got his religion back, but in the sanctum sanctorum of his heart, there was no God. He felt empty and sad.

The dissonance was disrupted by a deadening noise of a door knock. He felt anxious who was knocking at his door at 2 AM in the morning. His wife went to open the door. He was perplexed to see cops at home. They said they've come to investigate his son over a lynching case. He could already smell something bad. He sweated inside realizing he's encountering the devil at his doorstep. His son was taken into custody. He could see his world collapse in front of him.

'If we brought this upon us, then it's upto us to unmake it', his wife said in a firm voice. 

The Confluence

Flash Fiction 9:

They feared losing their sovereignty over their selves. He doesn't want her to want him. Neither does she want him to desire her. Still they both secretly wanted to be with each other. The stream of love gradually gushed into their nerves. This tension kept them both away yet closer. The mental conflict was unbearable. Running apart from one another only made it worse. They decided to face it that day, after all they're colleagues and have spoken before. They saw each other in their office canteen. He said hi, she smiled. They could hear their hearts beat swifter than usual. Their spirits danced inside. The situation was both delicate and overwhelming. They looked off each other to calm their nerves. It was crazy. Once they had put their guards down, the floodgates of desire went unfastened.  Nothing after that could stop those streams from coming together.