MAKING A COMEBACK

People ask me whether I have abandoned blogging!

Oh no…how can I do that? The freedom to write creatively and with an open mind is possible only through blogging.

For the past few days, I’ve been thinking of putting up a new blogsite. But consciously I decided to go ahead with my existing one. The sole intention behind revamping the content on the existing blogsite is an effort to present the real ‘Me’ to the big bad/good world out there.

Some time back, I had temporarily disallowed all kind of access to my site – www.bengalsurprise.blogspot.com, which has already left me feeling incomplete. I am aware of a female blogger friend who blogs from the other part of the world and makes it a point to comment on every post of mine. I haven’t received any response from her for quite some time. I think, she too would be little busy with the year end festivities.

I have never been an addict though of the arty party types. But what makes me feel awkward of feeling disconnected is the inconsistency I have suddenly developed in my blogging behaviour.

So here I am, back with not a great bang but at least to create a little bit of concern and curiosity. I know I have also temporarily abandoned the story ‘Dark Truth’, which I was publishing chapter wise every fortnight. I hope I will be able to continue doing the same amidst all the blogging I wish to continue.

In the coming days, I am going to surprise my readers of the blog.

Love to all............

Vociferous

SOON TO RESUME BLOGGING

Dear Friends,

Whoever happens to read my blog.....I apologise to them.

I am very well aware that I've left my story half way.

I am very soon going to complete the same and get ahead with more blogging.

Till then chow.............the other chapters of 'Dark Truth' would be made online, very soon!

Love to all...........................

DARK TRUTH Chapter 2

Rajat knew he had disturbed his neighbours. With no options left to think over, this was the best, he could do. He wanted to know whether his neighbours were aware about his missing dad. After a patient wait, Rajat saw the neighbour’s door open slowly. Before he could speak, the woman who opened the door spoke out. “Why do you bang the door at wrong hours? My boring husband is home and I could be of no help to you”, said the woman who had wrapped herself in a bed sheet. Quite apologetically Rajat inquired, “Did my dad leave the keys with you?” Annoyed the woman replied, “I wish I had the keys to your heart!” Rajat always knew that this neighbour of his was no ordinary woman. Her name was Jyotika who chose to marry an old man for his money. She not only convinced her seventy-year-old husband to disown his family but also made it a point to make him dance to her tunes. The only thing Rajat was unaware about was Jyotika’s secret desire to win over him. Ignoring her comment, Rajat asked Jyotika to take care of his bag and left.

Roaming around on streets during midnight was the least he had expected to do. But, finding his father was important. Not very sure but with little confidence in his heart, Rajat headed to the liquor bar, his father often frequented. The streets were empty. Some people were sleeping on the pavements. And the lane he was about to enter next was considered a famous pickup joint. From a distance, Rajat could see his father tumbling to gain support. The old man was badly drunk and was murmuring at the peak of his voice. Before he could again fall down, Rajat rushed to hold his father. Seeing Rajat help, the old man screamed, “Leave me alone. Don’t you dare touch me.” Before Rajat could say anything further, his father fell unconscious. Finding no available source of transportation, he put his father’s left arm around his shoulder and slowly managed to drag him to their home. Rajat felt lucky that his father though drunk, had not misplaced the keys.

Back home and with no intentions to wake his neighbours again, Rajat unlocked the door. He lit the lamp to take his father in. The sudden blast of brightness due to the glowing lamp made his father sit up suddenly. As Rajat got closer to take him in, he resisted. “Who do you think you are? Why don’t you understand, I am not your responsibility! Let me lie down here. And please don’t push me into the house which holds memories of my misdeeds”, said his father. He further continued, “I have told you, I can never accept you as my son. You are a result of a mistake. And I am tolerating you for being a part of that mistake. Please, I beg of you to allow me to sleep here. I don’t want to bother you. We have nothing in common. I am an alcoholic and let me be under its bad influence. Don’t spoil my mood and go away.” Before Rajat could react, his father fell down and murmuring some complicated abuses fell asleep. In disbelief, he continued staring at the man who was his biological father and at one time considered a maverick film producer. It was his father Gautam Dutt who always was mistaken to be related to the legendary filmmaker of Bollywood, Guru Dutt. But he was different as Gautam believed in thinking ahead of time. As a filmmaker he was aggressive and ready to take on any challenge that came his way. In the 70’s, when people were bitten by Amitabh Bachchan’s masala movies, Gautam was busy planning a movie on the life of a prostitute.

After having slipped into the past for a while, Rajat dissolved his thoughts to grab a warm shower. With the shower on and the warm water soothing his tense nerves, Rajat started thinking again. He just started speaking to himself. He had been doing this for the past many years. In the absence of friends and companions, he found it wiser to do some self-talking. He spoke, “The man lying outside is my father. Still he doesn’t want to be known as my father. I have accepted him as a responsibility and a favour I owe to my unseen mother. He doesn’t want to accept me as his son. And I don’t want to allow him disown me. I know he holds a secret. He is aware about a truth, which he calls a mistake. Maybe he fears that the secrets known to him can cause apathy. But, he doesn’t understand as a father he needs me and as a son I care for him.”

Having dined out at a restaurant and feeling tired, Rajat chose to retire to the bed. Week long meetings, daylong discussions and month long hectic schedules was taking a toll on his personal life. He held professional commitments very important. Once in office, he would detach himself from the entire world and continue slogging unstoppably. Day-by-day, the pressure was increasing. The anniversary issue of ‘Mumbai Life’ was round the corner and loads of work was yet to be completed. In the absence of a great story his boss Alex was a worried man. Leaving all his worries behind, Rajat closed his eyes. Slowly he fell asleep. After a day’s work and a turbulent hunt for his father, this was the least he could ask for.

Next day while Rajat was still asleep he was awaken by a knock on the door. Lazily he pulled out of his bed to open the door. It was his father standing with a hung head and clothes stinking with the foul smell of alcohol he had consumed last night.

DARK TRUTH Chapter 1

A frail man in his 60’s found himself lying flat on his face on a dusty road. Though it was a summery night; a cold breeze brought in more dust and blurred his already fading vision. He tried to recollect the incident, which made him land in such an awkward position. He stressed on his thoughts. He tried very hard. He murmured. It was getting difficult by seconds and minutes for the old man to recollect what had led to his fall. He questioned to himself, “Was it 10 minutes back?” or “Was it an hour back?” or “Was I lying here for quite a long time?” Life around him was normal. He knew he was drunk and he had downed an entire bottle of country made liquor from the dingy bar behind him. He clearly remembered that he is a regular at this place almost every day and night. The only thing he couldn’t recollect was the reason behind his insulting ouster.

After a hard day’s work at his office, Rajat was back. The lock on the door let him know his father was not home. It was 11.30 p.m. and he had to get ahead with another hard task in his hand. For the last two years, it had become his responsibility to hunt for his father who went missing for days, weeks and months. Unwillingly he rang the doorbell of his neighbours. Being the creative head of a newspaper agency he had to always carry his work home on a laptop. Also with him were loads of papers on which he had this habit of making short notes.

It was 1 a.m. Ankush was all very excited to leave for the airport. A student of journalism and zeal to achieve big had always made him stay ahead from others. Though a Delhiite by his heart, his mind always was impressed with Mumbai’s glam life. While doing a research on the yesteryears of Bollywood, he had discovered something, which very few knew about. He was sure no big news agency in Delhi would ever add any kind of seriousness in considering his story. His hopes were zeroed in on ‘Mumbai Life’ which would not only give a thought to his story but may perhaps help him earn mullah, bag a job or make him famous. After having applied for a month long leave, he was set to fly to Mumbai. He felt lucky he could afford a flight ticket. He thanked his freelancing assignments and the wealthy wives of rich businessmen he escorted when needed.

It was close to 1.30 a.m. Ruksar a woman in her 50’s was readying Gracy for an appointment she had fixed with a wealthy hotelier. Ruksar told Gracy not to be reluctant. She advised her to feel light and go ahead with a free mind. “Don’t be shy. Do as he wishes. And then from a budding model he will make you the face of Bollywood”, said Ruksar. She was quite a prominent personality with the page three socialites of Mumbai. People who knew her were sure that she was the one to pump excitement in late night parties. She was blessed with this quality of luring young girls to the world of glamour. She made them dream big and pushed them to high-level prostitution. Her loose hold in Bollywood helped her make tall claims about making stars out of aspirants. But the truth was much darker than imagined.

At around 2 a.m. Madhoo was busy filing some papers she had printed after an extensive research on the yesteryears of Bollywood. This is the longest; she had ever worked in the office. She knew she had to toil hard for one more week. And if her story managed to make news, she wished to join her sister Kriti in England. Kriti was busy creating a campaign against racial discrimination inflicted by fellow whites against immigrant Indians.

Alex, the chief editor of ‘Mumbai Life’ wanted to bring something special to the anniversary edition. It was ages that the favourite tabloid of Mumbaiites had created any ripple. With a creative team in place and a marketing strategy implemented Alex was hungry for instant fame and long lasting glory.

DARK TRUTH

Prelude

With the sole intention of mastering my writing skills, from today, I begin my short story on my blog. I hope every one would like it. And you are free to also criticise it at your own will. This is the beginning. First I had planned to create another blog. But then I realised this blog of mine is the max read. So why not post my story in a chapterwise format on my personal blog.

So, friends enjoy reading and do register your comments and feedback.

Regards,

Purnesh

Coming Soon

After having spent a good amount of time pondering over the idea of releasing a single story, now I've two stories debuting on my blog. The stories would be available on my other blog which you can see in my complete profile. It is calledRelationships With A Twist. I like to call it the Story Box. And the first story I am putting up to be read by others is ZEBRA CROSSING. And the second story in the offing is RUMOURS.

Both are important in their own stride. Next week just look out for the upcoming stories..

Till then bi.....

ORKUT IS KEEPING ME ALIVE

Yes! i have finally discovered orkut.
I am networking socially. There are so many friends of mine, who still remember me.
I am happy. And I keep reporting such stuff to my mom. She is pleased to hear such stuff
from time-to-time. She has been my friend and continues to be my friend. And she is happy
that I am getting to know my friends vide Orkut.
Orkut is keeping me alive, literally. I am only disturbed by regular powercuts.
Otherwise, I am planning to get a net connection at home and enjoy staying connected.
Love to everybody, love to all.......

Beginning my book

I had promised myself. Next year Mid 2008, I complete 10 years of my professional life.
I have seriously decided to start writing a book on the experiences of my professional life.
Keep a track of this blog, to know the progress on the same.
Rest, everything fine...It feels gr8 to get back to blogging.
Lot more in the offing...New experiences about to begin....