Month: April 2015

The hundred head vicious snake hissed fiercely at her on one hand and on the other she saw a door with radiance beaming very inviting.

She looked up and saw beautiful colors, colors she hadn’t seen on flowers when her dad used to take her to the tulip garden.

She tried to fight hard with a demon inside it had grown huge day after day and she felt more vulnerable than before.

She rolled her eyes in all corners before they fixed on the table in the dark corner; there exactly there she saw her peace.

Her weak body rolled, crawled to the table, set the powder in a straight line and snuffed it in a jiffy; her addiction and vulnerability gave up on a beautiful gift of life.

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Say no to drugs or any substance for that matter. We speak of dowry deaths or alcohol abuse deaths but you did be surprised to know if I shared some facts about drug abuse in our very country.

At least 25,426 people committed suicide due to drug and addiction related problems in the last 10 years across India. This comes down to an average 2,542 suicides every year, 211 per month and 7 per day.

Appalling truth is that suicides due to drug related problems exceed dowry, poverty and money related suicides in India in most of the last 10 years.

India is highly vulnerable because it is sandwiched between two infamous drug routes and poppy growing areas, namely the ‘Golden Crescent’ on the northwest and ‘Golden Triangle’ on the northeast, where drugs are easily available.

Now the sad part is even though there are 3.4 million drug abuse victims, the government has only 401 rehabilitation centres functioning at present. That is an average of overwhelming 8,478 victims per Integrated Rehabilitation Centre for Addicts (IRCA).

Out of these 3.4 million drug abuse victims, a mere 0.3 million have registered themselves in these de-addiction centres, which is just 10% of the total figure.

And of the 0.3 million registered members about 0.15 million (50%) are from Maharashtra, Uttar Pradesh, Karnataka, Odisha and Manipur.

We moved from vindictive to vulnerable and vulnerable I find people who want to quit addiction but are helpless. Read a very positive post on the same word on Shashank’s blog here.

Mrs. Sharma adjusted her black satin gown which stuck to her oversized body like Clingfilm, she had spent a hefty 4000 to woo Mr. Sharma on their 25^th anniversary.

The moment Mr. Sharma placed the book he was reading his eyes fell on something that looked like his son’s black boxing punch bag without his glasses.

He put on his glasses as he saw Mrs. Sharma feeling unease and uncomfortably struggling with the gown.

As she sat next to him the seam of the delicate satin finally shouted its last and split right on her tummy, she still managed a smile and gave the rose she was hiding “Happy Anniversary Sharmaji.”

Mr. Sharma put a plastic wrapped bag in Mrs. Sharma’s lap wishing her back with a gentle kiss on her forehead; the gift was nothing but her favorite comfortable batik print cotton gown from her regular shop at Elco market.

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I have seldom seen him uneasy or uncomfortable, waiting to see Shashank’s take on the word, watch out for it here.

The priest once again whipped Sukanya’s face with a heavy broom chanting a scary mantra.

The ignorant family and priest thought Sukanya who felt like a teenage boy who loved and played cricket over cooking and embroidery was possessed by a male ghost.

One more whip on her face and she held the priest’s hand hard and threatened in a husky tone, I am Shekhar and accept me this way or I will destroy this village.

After that incident Sukanya’s father never forced her to wear a salwar nor did the villagers bully her.

That was the only safe way to give wings to her trapped identity.

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Feeling trapped was a unique emotion and we agreed instantly, am sure a super post awaits on Shashank’s blog here.

I couldn’t have been more excited the minute I saw my school from the bus window pass by me, the same banyan tree, the well near it and three swings, well it had been 8 long years after which I was coming to my hometown.

I got down and saw a familiar face, “Pradeep!” I blurted as he gave an incomplete smile and nodded, “You look the same” and I continued blabbering till we walked together a 100 meters and I hopped on an auto waving him a see you.

The auto driver gave me a puzzled look while I myself looked puzzled when I couldn’t see Pradeep in the rare mirror of the auto.

After a relaxed meal back home “Guess whom I met the first thing I alighted the bus, Pradeep.” Ma, Pa and brother gave me a shocking look, “Yeh, Pradeep Thampy, damn he looks the same since school.”

“Pradeep hung himself last night on a tree near the bus stop over a failed love affair, since then he has spooked and walked with a lot of people till the auto stand.” I froze realizing now why he spoke no word and instantly vanished as I hopped in the auto.

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“You are getting lazy” he spoke as he yawned. “Who me?” I raised my eyebrows finishing most work at office quite efficiently. “Ok, whats for S?” he stretched and questioned. “Sleepy?” I said…”No, just got up.” “No that is the S word.” I spoke attentively “I thought as much, sleepy isn’t an emotion.” Another yawn coming it’s way, “I decided we will write on Spooky” I announced.

That’s what happens when you decide to write together….mood swings, waiting to throw my tantrum now…Now if Shashank remembers the word as spooky then read the post here.