can you vish?

  At Chico’s home ‘Mama, you promised to take me out for lunch on Sunday if I got good grades in the exams…’ seven-year-old Chico complained to his mother, Laila, as she lay confined to the comforts of her couch on a lazy Sunday morning. ‘Ugh…’ Laila groaned as she continued to scroll through reels. 'And we will go on a Sunday!’ ‘Today is Sunday, Mama!’ Chico started pulling at his mama bear’s arms. ‘Well, another one is due in seven days…’ Laila muttered, unwilling to move, but the thought of not having to cook lunch did tempt her. ‘Okay, if I promised you, you shall have it. Tell me what you want. I'll order…’ ‘No, Mama, I want to go out and dine, and I want you to take a selfie at the restaurant and post it, and I want my friends to ask me about it in class.’ Laila pulled her eyes from the screen and looked at her son. He was growing smart indeed. ‘Okay, fine, you got it. What do you want to have, though?’ ‘Roasted Chicken!’ At Durien’s Chicken Farm ‘But why can’t we go ou...

But your concerns come loaded with all sorts of conditions You first check who was wronged - their background and traditions Your heads bow in sorrow, for the kids buried in Gaza Yet your prayers miss the women, who’re stripped of rights in Khorasan You get enraged over cow meat, beating up people in dozens Couldn’t care less for your folks, whose homes went down by bulldozers You raise slogans for banning art, as your God was slightly ridiculed Yet your throats dry like a miracle, when your priests got those kids abused  Its a war or an invasion - if it’s “your people” who’re gettin bombed Just a rightful dispute - if the tables were indeed turned Why these conditions in your concerns, why be selective in your grievances? Would it cost to stand with the wronged lot - no matter the differences?  

 If you know me personally, you might also know that I am a regular at the International Film Festval of Kerala, held annually in December at Thiruvananthapuram (and if you don’t know me personally, just read the first sentence). A habit that started during my Thiruvananthapuram days in 2016, I look forward and try to attend the week long celebration of cinema - unless life or a killer virus gets in the way. Prologue Since the dates for the next fest are officially announced during the conclusion of the current fest, what follows is an year long wait. Nothing significant happens for the most part of the year, so let us skip ahead to November - when the registration opens for delegates. Yes, we know that there are over ten thousand delegate passes and registration window usually lasts days - still most of my friends (and I) hit the servers with a passion  until our registrations go through. Once that is done, the wait begins for the schedule to be released - where we would come...

The child raced to finish homework, dreaming of chocolate’s sweet reward. The parent denied the bar - the kid had refused veggies for lunch. The parent lingered longer at work, chasing the raise as reward. The boss denied the hike, they'd to grease the hands of those in power. People in power built a megashrine, seeking votes as reward. The masses denied the votes, they'd felt the crunch of the missing notes The masses ignored the hate around them, eyeing a spot in heaven as reward. God denied the masses their spots, they’d dined from the forbidden pots.

  “Hey, I don’t see you around these days!” “Ohh hi! Well, I have been quite busy you know…now with the new job and all” “Even on weekends? You know I got a place quite close to your work right? I handle all these spots so that you can hang out whenever you want.” “Umm yea I guess. Maybe next week?” “Next week is what you promised me three months ago.” “Ugh…I will…try to come! My parents are coming every week anyway right?” “Your parents are good people but I care about you as well. Don’t you get it? Is there something you wanna tell me? I have seen you sharing some pretty controversial stuff about me online.” “Wait a minute. I do not think we follow each other on social media. How do you see my posts?” “Come on, you know I work in mysterious ways!” “I am not sure if I am entirely comfortable with that invasion of my privacy” “For my sake do not fret about it! Here, I have a gift for you. Wear this when you come to my place next week.” “What is this? A headscarf? Why? You know I do...