Two dead dolls

                                             A Movie Scene

A man, wearing blue shirt, is running through the narrow streets.

The hero, in the white shirt, is chasing him.

They are surrounded by people running here and there in commotion.

Some injured people are screaming. Some are simply lying in the ground as they are dead.

An ominous thick cloud of smoke is spreading through out the screen, blocking our vision.

The lens travels through the smoke, searching here and there and at last, gets the glimpse of the 'blue' man, who is now under the clutches of our 'white' hero.

Blue man is trying hard to break away from the hero's clutch, but the hero kept on increasing his grip. Hero's blood smeared face is oozing out rage and sorrow, which alternates in quick succession.

Whenever the sorrow overcomes, his grip loosens and blue man would able to breathe a bit, but when the  rage rises, the grip tightens and the blue man would start panting.

Lens 'zooms in', on the closing eyes of the hero. cut.

A sweet face of 8 years old girl in a blue salwar. She fondly looks at the red doll in the bridal wear, which she is holding in her hands.

Suddenly, a big 'boom' heard. She looses her balance and falls down. The doll was thrown in air and falls in a far off place. It was tossed here and there kicked by running people's feet.

All the feet are moving in a direction, but the kid's feet is running opposite, towards the doll.

Hero cries, " Don't go, come here ".

But the kid's feet keeps on running. Her hand catches hold of the doll and she looks up and smiles at the hero.

Second 'boom' heard.

Lens follows the rolling head of the doll. It rolls, rolls and comes to a stop. The eyes of the doll was looking towards something.

The lens turns its eyes towards that direction.

It shows the torn hand of the kid holding the headless doll. cut.

Lens zooms out of the closed eyes of hero.

" Your daughter is dead. She was killed by your own bomb." - hero says, trying hard to control his bursting tears.

The blue man's face darkens for a fraction of a second. Then an evil passion replaces it.

"She is a martyr now. She will playing now in the laps of our god 'Gaggaa' in heaven now. A small sacrifice in the great  'Godly war' " - blue man says without remorse.

" Your 'Godly' book says all men on earth is God's children. Who gave you the right to kill them in the name of  'Him' " - hero screams in rage.

" You kill your own daughter in the name of 'Gaagaa' "  - hero lets out a laughter, laughter drenched with anger. " You let out all your animal instincts as mass destructions, which runs through the society as river of feces, in which you bath and smear upon your whole body and call it as 'Godly'? " - hero laughs harder.

" Your breathe stinks. stop breathing", hero says to the blue man, tightening his arms around his neck.

Blue man gasps. Trying hard to breath in life. The horror which he spreads, spreads in his eyes.

" Hey, ushh, ushh, stop breathing. stop breathing. you are not fit be the divine doll saving daughter's father. stop breathing"

He stops breathing. Hero looses his grip. Starts crying, closing his face, uncontrollably.

Lens slowly pans out showing 'post-blast' horror around the hero. cut.

                             

                                               A real scene

A father clenches tight his hold on his 8 years old daughter. A huge crowd in front of the theater is being disbursed by the policemen by tear gas.

" Let us go out of here "  Father starts running lifting his daughter. Girl's furry teddy bear doll falls down.

Teddy bear was torn into pieces within seconds by the trampling crowd.

Tear starts pouring on girl's face. Smoke is not the reason for her tears.

" What is happening?" - girls asks father.

" The movie, we were going to watch, was banned "

" why?"

"  A Blue men organization  had issued a bomb threat as the movie were against them"

" Then why policemen, instead of beating the blue organization, were beating us? " - asks the girl

Father couldn't answer.

" Because of them my innocent 'Teddy' is dead " - Girl continued her sobbing.

The prime crime

In the country called 'Rabath' ... (biggest democrazy in the world)

At the city called 'Allarebad' ... (you should not read it separately as 'all are bad', it’s ‘Allarebad’)

A police vehicle was speeding through the road at 7.00 a.m.

The driver of the vehicle was color blind, I am sure, then why he kept on going even when the traffic lights were red?

A 'double decked' bus was also speeding in front of the police vehicle. The driver, who kept on Chain-honking, lowered the window glass to spit out the ‘Paan’ated saliva, along with a serial-blast of bad words directed at 'paa' of the 'double decked' bus driver.

Suddenly, the big bus turned into a narrow twenty feet road and stopped, clearing the way for the police vehicle. The police driver let out victory laughter.

Policeman 'A' said to the driver, “Please stop. I have to draw some money”

“At what shop?" - Driver.

“ATM” – said policeman ‘A’.

“Oh! You want to 'draw' your 'own' money!!” exclaimed driver and stopped at an ATM.

Policeman ‘A’ shouted at the watchman, “Open the door”

Watchman opened the ATM door.

One person, with a big bag on the shoulder was staring the machine. Another was lying on the floor.

“Got boozed so early in the morning? Crazy people!” commented the policeman ‘A’. He pushed the ‘bag’ man aside and typed his PIN.  The ATM machine replied “oops! No money honey! I am out of order as usual!”

He cursed the machine with unparliamentary words and left

Then the vehicle came to a halt in front of an apartment located near a crowded market.

Policeman ‘B’ inquired the watchman, “In which apartment Mr. All Right lives?”

Watchman said “In 2 B an old couple lives. Right opposite to is 2 A, where Mr.All Right lives alone”

Policeman ‘B’ knocked 2 B.  A teen aged boy opened the door. He heard the cricket commentary was screaming loudly from the hall television.

“Hey boy! What is the score?” asked Policeman ‘B’.

“Kapistan batting. Two wickets gone” – boy said.

Policeman “B’ was so pleased to hear that.

“Where is Mr.All Right” – asked policeman ‘B’

“I have never heard of him” the boy said

“Is this 2A?” asked the policeman ‘B’.

“I don’t know” said the boy.

“Poor boy! I will check myself”. He checked the door plate. It said ‘2B’.

“Sorry boy. Enjoy the cricket!” said the policeman ‘B’ and moved towards the ‘2A’.

O.K, now let us read some news from the next day paper named ‘The Religion’.

News on page five,

                                        “Double rape on double-decker”

‘Young lovers , both had been raped in a ‘double decker’ bus. Rape is so common in our country, but why we are reporting this incident is the ‘boy friend’ also has been raped, which is first of its kind. Both the lovers were brought into the police custody of ‘Moral’ police station and questioned rigorously regarding the reason for going alone in a bus so early in the morning (i.e, 7.15 A.M) without the knowledge of their parents. Police is also searching the rapists in the hope that, if they were captured, the crucial information ‘why the lovers left home so early alone’ could be extracted from them. If proved guilty, they (i.e, the lovers not the rapists) would be sentenced one year imprisonment and lifetime ‘media’ ‘tarnish’ment.

News on page two,

                                               “Twin blast in ATM”

Two men tried to ‘blast’ open a ATM machine, which has not been working for past one month. They drugged the watchman and changed his dress. One wore the watchman dress and stood outside (who fled half way for unknown reasons) , while other tried to open the ATM machine with twin dynamites. Both blasted successfully, but operation failed as he could find no money in the machine. The bankers are pressurizing the policemen to catch the man who had fled, after the failed operation empty handed, to reward him with considerable amount, for disposing the condemned ATM machine, for which they were cracking their brains for past one month.

News on page seven,

                                           “Two bodies in 2 B”

An old couple was murdered by 17 years and 364 days old boy. Boy said he needed money urgently to celebrate his 18^th birthday with his friends, on the next day in a star hotel pub.  He was arrested while dancing in the pub with his girlfriend. But before he could walk out of the hotel, clock chimed 12 times. Police released the boy as he turned 18 and wished him ‘Happy Birthday’ and he resumed dancing with his girl friend. Human rights activists pelted couple of stones on policeman for arresting a ‘minor’ boy for a minor issue. As for the old couple, their loving son, who is residing in ‘united estates’, insisted on sending their ashes, in business class of the “Pauper shark” airlines, by the boy’s family. Police is negotiating with the boy’s family.

News on page one,

                                     “Great criminal Mr.All Right arrested”

Two days back an administrative officer Mr. Doit Right was dismissed for ordering to demolish a temple built on footpath platform , which lead to a great religious unrest in that region.

Mr.Doit Right said, “Footpath platform is for people to walk. More over holy temples should be built in clean places, not on  foot path platforms”

This lead to the above said unrest. RBAAW group (Right to Built Anything Anywhere we Want group) demanded his resignation, but their protests were ignored as he was dismissed.

Mr.All Right commented on his ‘Faze book’ that, “ Mr. Doit Right has done it right. Whoever dismissed him has done it wrong”

For these heinous words which could cause national agitation and street fights between matured people , Mr.All Right, the criminal was arrested (under non bailable charges) and was dragged to the prison.

222 likes for that comment has suddenly reduced to 2 (i.e of Mr.Doit Right and Mr.All Right himself) after the arrest. Cyber crime wing is working in full swing to find out other 220 people.

Last page News,

                                  ‘Whole nation on mourning’

As 'Kapistan' won against 'Rabath' in an one day cricket match without losing a wicket!

Boxes, Boxes and a life.

A psychiatrist was trying to get a grip of my gaze contact.
His boyish assistant said. " He moves a little bit after a couple of  Lorazepam injections. Occasionally seeing in the direction of us, but not communicating. Shakes his head hard as if to indicate 'no' when the food is offered to him "
"Catatonia" the psychiatrist blurted. His voice resonated with a pride. I couldn't understand why he is feeling pride for naming my condition. I looked at him. He was encouraged.
"Please speak, I know you are hearing me", he said.
I blankly stared at him.
"Sir... Is his catatonic condition is due to depression or schizophrenia?" assistant asked.
"Let us not jump into a well that doesn't have any water... let him speak first" psychiatrist replied
Assistant had an expression on his face as if he had been answered wrongly.
Psychiatrist tried to persuade me to speak in every possible way. Even after long time, as perceived in my catatonic state, he persisted with his one sided dialogue.
At last, he said, you could call that a diluted scream. " please let out your boxed emotions"
'Boxed emotions'
'Boxed'
'Box'
'Boxes'
I was kept in a life sustaining box for about a week after coming out the box called uterus.Then shifted to a box called cradle with a ventilated lid. As I am an 'infection prone kid' as my mother defined me, I was raised in a box called room, which was painted pink and filled with boxes of toys.
I went to school in a box called van, with an instruction from my mother " Don't play in the open ground. you may hurt yourself"
I would stay in the box called classroom and watch kids playing through the window until the van box arrived and delivered me back to my pink painted room box again.
When I cried in frustration they bought me a box called television which engaged me for a while.
When in teens I cried, they bought me a box called computer. I started to mingle with people in virtual boxes called chat rooms.
As I grew bigger, I was put in a college. I fondly called it campus. I had an illusion of attainment of freedom, but slowly it dawned to me it was just a bigger box than school but definitely a box.
Ambition of my college life is to fill up a blank box daily, named status update, in an online virtual book funnily named 'Facebook'.
I got a job in one of the cubical box, in one of the floor and my job is to stare a box which was once my  friend, now a foe, the computer.
I expressed my emotions to the girl of next cubicle through emoticons, but she failed to understand my feelings.
I got Married in an air conditioned box of a star hotel
I booked a box in a 16th floor in a 'closed' gated community draining all my money in my bank box.
My married life was smooth, I had my joy stick, she had tablet and we both had smart phones. When all batteries got drained, we had sex.
We had a kid, he stayed in life sustaining box just for four days.
I was so happy. I took extreme care that he also would pass through the same boxes as I am, to be as successful as me.
To my shock I was informed my wife died in her sleep inside the box called car with air-condition machine running.I buried her in a box deep underground and buried her memories in a box deep within me.
My grown kid now is working in a similar cubical box in a similar floor, but I should accept that he is more successful than me because his working box is situated in United states.
I settled with my television box watching news channels, where they used to discuss about world in a box called studio.
Slowly I lost interest in everything and started lying in a place without doing anything like that kid on that cradle but without that ventilated lid.
Who brought me to the hospital, I don't know. Milkman or the newsboy ?
Anyway that was not an important question.
I told the doctor...
" Don't put in a box after I die. Burn me and spray my ashes into the wind"
The boyish assistant became so glad after I spoke.
" Sir... as I thought, he is a schizophrenic. see ... he is talking irrelevantly"






'

The conversation about nothing

He:   He often fights with me, my son... he is not seeing the point.

Me:   What point?

He:   The non existence of God... Such a scientific boy, but still prays before taking food. I couldn't stand it... I stopped eating with him.

Me:    Do you ever wonder why they ever named Boson 'The God Particle'.

He:   May be to signify your belief on God should be as minuscule as the particle... Believing in non existent is the utmost human idiocy I could ever think of.

Me:   What are we conversing about now...It feels strange to think how we could converse about something that is non existent, because the very conversation makes it exist?

He:   Yeah... human mind's main weakness is to brag on and on about things that don’t even exist... most of the times. The topic 'God' is the epitome of nothingness.

Me:   I could sense hatred oozing out of you... How could you hate a thing that doesn't even exist...? Is it not equally stupid to believing in nothing?

He:   My hate is not towards that stupid 'nothing'... but towards the ignorance of these stupids who believe in that 'nothing'

Me:   So the 'God' is their ignorance. Then the 'God' will exist till the mankind's ignorance exists...

He:   Yeah... you ‘Mr.Twisty’, you could put it that way too...

Me:   I think you are ignorant about the piece of bread crumb that is sticking on your upper lip... kindly wipe it off.

He:   Oh... thanks.

Me:   Then... he will exist for ever... for me and for you too... then what we are fighting about? Then what we are conversing about?

He:   Nothing.

Me:   I got it... nothing.