Sunday, October 19, 2014

Indoor to Outdoors

I very often come across the ads about energy drinks or other energizers which give you enough strength to keep going even as you are ready to crash. I have never taken refuge in those energizers because my kids have done that for me. They can keep me awake the whole night, push me to walk that extra mile, motivate me to fly high and also keep my back from breaking with the last straw. The last thing I want is to see them sick or sad. I love to watch them glowing in complete health and smiling their days away. Being first or winning accolades do not matter as much to me as to watch them smile.
Now that they have grown up, they have become my support system in a different way by lending me a hand in managing my life. In fact, I shudder to imagine my life without Rayyan, who is a great help to me in everything I do.
My kids have faced different challenges in their lives but they have dealt with it at their best. Farheena, though a special needs child has seldom seen the doctor with a cold, fever or cough. She has been to the hospital only for her special needs which includes physiotherapy, speech therapy or the triple fusion surgery on her foot. If not for those challenges, she has been one of the healthiest children I have come across.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t so fortunate with my first born son. Though Rayyan was smart and healthy kid, he suffered from continuous bouts of cough, fever or colds which kept him away from school. My parents were very reluctant to let him go out much, because they were afraid he would catch an infection. The indoor made him more vulnerable to infections and he was sick so often. This finally turned into a vicious cycle which went on and on without an end.
I knew I had to take him out and make him play in dirt to get him fit, but I could not do that without giving my parents a heart attack (or they attacking me for trying to kill their precious grandson). One fine day, I was struck with a bright idea when watching the idiot box. There was this ad of Dabur Chyawanprash where the grandma lovingly fed her grandson the halwa to increase his immunity. I remembered how my parents had tried to make Rayyan eat the Halwa, but he refused because he was a fussy eater and did not like the consistency of the halwa.

I took Rayyan into my confidence and told him that he should promise his grandparents to take the Dabur Chyawanprash regularly so that they would confidently allow him to play outdoors. The boy agreed and we presented our plan to the grandparents. Rayyan will take the Dabur Chyawanprash regularly and they will allow him to play outdoors, be it in rain or sun. The grandparents were happy and said yes to this. Slowly Rayyan changed from a weak and sick boy, to a healthy outdoor person who loved cycling, walking, playing football, climbing trees and swimming.

His journey with outdoors activity began thus and recently ended with his 4 day cycling trail on the Western Ghats which was called ‘Ghats2Ocean’. 

He seldom falls sick and has great stamina. He can go cycling, walking or working for hours without being tired. Finally, today he has ended up being the only fit and healthy person in my family. The rest are either couch potatoes or sick every other day with something or other. May be I should show them the Dabur Chyawanprash ad to bring about a change.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

The Spellbinders: Chapter 18 - The Shadows Gather

We are a team called The Spellbinders who have been bound together by our team spirit, sense of humor and camaraderie. We are collaborating and writing a story for the Blogadda challenge "Game of Blogs". I feel we have successfully met the challenge of BA who asked 10 cooks to cook a broth with the ingredients they provided.  To know about us, join us here.

The story so far:

The Shadows Gather

Malik woke up sweating.  He, never in his memory, had such a horrible dream.  He got up from the chair he was sitting and moved painfully to his bed, but did not lie down.
He turned on the news channel on the television.  The reporter had a garish blue and red screen to her side where graphics of a group of hooded figures did a strange dance around a skeleton.  The ticker tape said, “Little Girl saved by divine intervention from Tantrics”.
He winced.  He knew the story, a girl had been lured away from a fishermen’s village in coastal south India.  She had been drugged and tied to a stake while she was being knifed, slowly and deliberately.  Her brothers had followed thinking it was some kind of a funny game. But the sight that awaited them was horrible. Alarmed one of them ran back and got the whole village to attack and rescue the girl.  Those freaks that were doing this had fled by then.  It had a dark, moonless night.  The brothers remembered that the people were heavily cloaked and their hands were tattooed.  The freaks even sang and danced like some scary shadows thrown by flames on a windy night.
“Mind Freaks,” Aryan had called his book.  Well, he did have a freaky mind and extremely weird taste in research.  What was more disturbing was that just as he found Aryan’s research, this case had been picked up by the TV news channels.  Coincidence?  Or divine design as the news reader called it.  He drank two glasses of water and shook his head.  Sleep was impossible now.  The body of the girl found in Mumbai had knife marks too.

He walked out where the police jeep was parked.  His driver was asleep in the garage.  He shook him gently and said, “Sorry, but we have to go.”
The driver grunted and got up.  Working with Malik even for a short period changed people.  They became used to erratic behavior from bosses.  He drove Malik to the hospital and once the man entered, he curled up on the back seat of the jeep and slept.
Malik walked into the ward where Aryan was resting with a book in his hand. For once Malik’s stoic face carried a gentle smile. Aryan Ahuja, the young bespectacled mischievous man was quite different from the serious book he held in his hand, “The Devil on the Doorstep - My Escape from a Satanic Sex Cult”. So far Aryan was the only person related to the case that Malik had some positive feelings for; the rest were rotten apples, in one way or other. Slowly in his mind, Malik did a serious evaluation of the people he had met during the course of his investigation.
His initial softness for Shekhar had broken when he found out how much he hated his girl and his peculiar response at her birth. A father of a loving girl, he couldn’t imagine what man would do that and for what reasons. The thoughts of his lovely Ruks made his heart feel so warm.
Tara was selfish woman who could step on heads to reach her goals. Though she was a mother who was undergoing the trauma of not knowing where her daughter was; for Malik, she was a pawn to be used to solve the mystery of not just missing Roohi, but also the murders of many 9 year old girls which had taken place in the past decade with some eerie connection between them.
Jenny was nothing more than a gold-digger.
Cyrus was just a spoilt rich brat who was studying law, but at the same time he thought himself to be above law. ‘God save his clients’ said Malik to himself with a chuckle that escaped his lips.
But here was a man who could help him in many ways to throw some light on the people connected to this case. Wasn’t it a blessing from above to find a neighbor to Datta’s and also childhood friend of Cyrus, who studies people? Malik considered Aryan his trump card in this game filled with dark mystery that brutally killed girls who had not enjoyed the world even for a decade. He wanted to put the killer behind the bars, to show him what pain is.

“Hi, couldn't sleep?” Aryan asked in his usual mischievous way, before adding with exaggerated wonder written all over face, “and how come they allowed you to see me?”
Malik shifted a bit uncomfortably.  “Um, how are you feeling now?” he asked Aryan.
“Oh, I see.  The policeman sneaked inside.  Scared of the nurses?”
“Very,” said Malik laughing openly now.  “You definitely are better.”
“I am on my way to recovery, but the pain is still bothering me” said Aryan wincing.
Aryan liked the gusty policeman who had what Aryan called the coconut personality, all hard on outside but soft from within. Cyrus hated this habit of his, to examine everyone, see through the exterior. He said it was like disrobing people in public. He had a talent for this, something that he did not learn on purpose. He could see people for what they are, unlike Cyrus. This was the reason why Cyrus found Malik to be a very annoying person. 
Malik took a seat beside him and peeked into the cover of the book, “The Devil on the Doorstep - My Escape from a Satanic Sex Cult”.
“More of the freaky minds for you Mister Aryan? Huh? I couldn’t believe that such people exist among us” said Malik as a chill ran down his spine.
“They do exist Sir,” said Aryan, as his eyes lost its mischievous look, “At present I am reading account of Annabelle Foster who was made to sleep with1800 men by her mother even before she was out of high school. Her freaky mom followed a satanic cult that had weird sex orgies included in their rituals.  Fortunately she escaped at the age of 18.”
“Her mother?” Malik almost shouted before checking himself by reminding he was in a hospital, that too late in the night, or was it early in the morning?
“Yes her mother” answered Aryan with deep pain resounding in his voice.
“Your book and research have opened up a world I had not known before and honestly I am sensing fear which I am not familiar with”, said Malik, remembering the nightmare that had woken him up.
“You have my research papers?” Aryan faked anger.
Malik though taken aback initially could see through it. “Yes” he confessed sheepishly.   “Your work is the reason why I am here at this odd hour”.
 “There are dark forces out there Mr. Malik, something that you haven’t seen in the people you have locked up behind those cells. Those are normal criminals with simple motives, here are the people who have more serious issues with darkest psyches we have ever seen”, Aryan was lost in some thoughts as the words escaped from him.

Something was amiss in the happenings of the past few days, but he could only sense it; there was no way he could pinpoint it. That made him very uneasy. It was like having something on the tip of your tongue but being unable to utter it out loud.
“I feel so helpless being unable to catch the killer who is mercilessly killing small girls so brutally that even Shaitan would shiver in his boots. Over the last decade I have seen connection between 8 girls killed without motives in a similar way. The evidence points at some kind of sacrifice taking place, which makes me wonder whether more than 1 person is involved”
Aryan was listening with intent and he again had that uneasy feeling of sensing the connection but unable to identify it.
Malik continued, “I think you can help me in this case with your extensive knowledge about such cults and their ways”.
“Sure Malik Sir,” Aryan said with all the assurance he could garner while being helpless on a hospital bed.
“But if you are to help me in this case, you are supposed to keep your personal relations of being the best friend or neighbor aside”, Malik said trying to measure how neutral Aryan could get.
“I will sir”, said Aryan imitating a soldier reporting to his superior.
They both relieved the escalating tension and laughed. But, Malik was serious once again. 
“You mentioned that some people are born with devilish trait and some with divine traits in your research. I cannot believe that. All men are born equal” said Malik, trying to recall some points from Aryan’s research papers.
“There are evidences that prove that to some extent. I am still doing my research on it”, replied Aryan.
“Do you believe in the Satanic Cults? In our era?” Malik still had trouble to believe about the shadowy figures that killed young girls.
“I have heard there are nearly 10 different cults operating from Kochi alone”, said Aryan.
“You must have heard about the girl we rescued last week”.
“Yes, I did. Hope she recovers emotionally from this trauma” said Aryan. He continued, “I was discussing the seeping of satanic cult into Fort Kochi with Cyrus few months ago. He took time to go there and get some photographs as well, but he did not find anything fishy”.

“What makes people worship Satan?” Malik was thinking aloud.
“That is not as complicated as you feel Mr. Malik errr Sir. No matter what religion you belong, your worship gives spiritual power to the good Supreme Being. But you need to follow a moral and chaste life to be in the good books of God. Satanic worshippers are people of dark mind. They cannot abide by the moral ethics hence they are trying hard to make Satan the spiritual authority”.
“Do educated people believe in such rubbish Mr.Aryan?” asked Malik not being able to accept this.
“Oh yes! There are many young, educated rich brats in the cult” answered Aryan; very sure of what he was saying.
“You mean people like Cyrus?”
“Yes ‘like Cyrus’, but not him”, and then continued, “Most of these people are pleasure seeking hedonists, who hold various memberships in their cult. They try to reverse the power of divinity by doing everything considered sacred in the reverse order or in a contradicting way. The prayers are recited backwards, they follow incest, cannibalism, drinking and many do many more activities which is forbidden in religious books”.
“Do you really think that normal people can become cannibals by choice Mr. Aryan?” Malik was finding it difficult to accept the dark side of humanity he was being exposed to.
“Drinking blood is a must in all satanic cults. How far is cannibalism from that?” challenged Aryan.
“I don’t know what to say. I can handle the toughest goonda on any day, but this is something I am not ready for”. Malik was looking ill at ease and did not want to hear more for today.  He felt sick but he had one more thing to request.
“Can you sign a slip for me?”
“Are you robbing me of my fortune?” Aryan asked his mischievous grin back on his face.
“Actually I took your books and papers to study.  I need you to okay that for me.”
“On one condition,” Aryan said.
“Which is?” Malik asked.
“Come and visit me again Malik Sir, and when you do, get me biryani and kebabs.  Hospital food sucks,” he said with a wink.
Malik laughed and said, “It’s a deal.”

Continue reading - Chapter 19 - The Rising Moon - By Bushra M

Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at #CelebrateBlogging with us.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014


                                    Team: The Spellbinders

Here are the links to the first eight chapters :
Chapter 8  - When Dreams Came True by Deepa Dutta Chaudhuri

  The Runaway Brat

Shekhar got up and stretched his thin frame.  Again he had spent hours at the computer and not written anything.  His life, like his unfinished manuscript was a mess. Should he just tear his life to pieces and shove it down the throat of the dustbin? Everything happening in his life was way beyond his control, especially the attraction Tara had for DD. The sparkle in her eyes that he had seen at the launch of YTV for DD haunted Shekhar like a witch’s curse. Shekhar groaned and banged his head against the desk.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Saturday, August 30, 2014

The Human Touch @ UniverCell Sync

Let me start my post with a confession. I am online shopper who has come up with quite some posts regarding online shopping experience. This is my first post regarding my experience in gadget store.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Advantage .1

If you are wondering what the advantage of .1 is, it is the great leap of advantage you have over windows 8 when you lay your hands over windows 8.1.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

My Alter Personality

Many people say that they know me quite well. When I ask them what they know about me they usually come up descriptions that t I am stubborn, I am brave, I work hard, I blog, I have survived cancer, I am doing my M.S, I love my kids, I am lucky,  I am overconfident, I am counselor etc etc. It is kind of assumed by people who know me that they know everything about me. How wrong they are. I am much more than what any one person can know.

Rayyan Lost in Laptop