can you vish?

Virtualia is a peaceful country whose citizens live a quiet life. Like any other peaceful country, Virtualia too has a stable government – for the people by the people. Virtualia is a democracy. The “Rulers Party” rules the state. It has been so, ever since time was born. Once in every five years, its citizens line up at polling stations to cast their votes. Anyone is free to stand in the elections. Members of the “Rulers Party” would inevitably be present at each station. If anyone of the citizens cast their votes for a candidate from outside of the “Rulers Party”, its agents would shoot the voter down then and there. Both with camera as well as gun. They were staunch believers of “justice delayed is justice denied” philosophy. “Rulers Party” ensured that the citizens of Virtualia never faced any shortage. Every single commodity – from essentials such as water, medicines, food to luxuries including smart phones and grooming products and hot beverages were sold through government cou

Fahad, Prasanth, Arya and I were at the Jawaharlal Nehru International Stadium, Kochi. India was hosting Pakistan in a T20 match. Three of us were in blue, rooting for the home team. Fahad was not. Did I tell you about Fahad? His family is from Karachi, Pakistan. His dad works at the Pak embassy in India. Unsurprisingly, he cheered his home team. He had planned on wearing a Pak jersey, but we had convinced him not to. Coming back to the match, India was chasing a daunting target of two hundred and nineteen, and it had now boiled down to requiring seventeen runs from the very last over with three wickets in hand. Rohith Sharma was facing Umar Gul. The first two deliveries were converted into whopping sixes. The spectators roared. Five needed off four. Cakewalk. No run was made out of the beautiful yorker that came in next. Five off three. Rohit hooked the next ball effortlessly. The air-borne ball was stopped by Shahid Afridi before it could clear the ropes. Our hero had fallen. G

The son went and sat near his father. “It’s been a while, dad. How are things going?” “It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I stopped following time since God knows when.” “That’s quite unbecoming of you, dad. For what I know, you were someone who used to measure time and plan accordingly. Shall I say shrewd?” “I prefer meticulous. And yes, I used to measure time – every ounce of it. Each of my actions were prudently strategic. I wanted the best for myself and my folks.” “Are you telling me even I were a result of your deliberate planning? Interesting.” “You? Of course. Especially you. There was a time when my whole life was centered on you. I have had immense plans for you, even before you were born. Do you think you just happened to be born in the month of May?” “I am quite familiar with the nine months’ infancy phase, dad. I believe that though I came out only in May, I began to exist sometime in August, perhaps.” “That’s a way to look at it, righ