Writing Off The Grid : Changing Scenario

It is substantially enough for a writer to sustain his livelihood in India, home to more than 130 crore people thereby allowing a writer enough target audience. But due to the unique demography of linguistic and cultural diversity the readership differ considerably in proportion with offline and online audiences. While even in today’s context where people are addicted to social media culture a large proportion of readership still have the urge for printed materials like newspapers to get hold of news. Today it is more of a daily routine as teens are compelled to read newspaper daily as it is as important as breakfast.

The newspaper is more than a century old in its performance but is comparatively way better than that of its successor television which is finding it hard to attract the attention of its viewers who had lost themselves in social media. While it looks a lot complicated for a writer especially for a newbie to find a platform to start it is even hard for a established writer to sustain in his/her role due to changes in the system. Back in the day when blogging went crazy worldwide it was considered the best platform for people who love to share ideas,articles,stories,poetry and so on and was the best possible job one could do sitting back home. Even my old lady back home used to check for cooking remedies all over the internet as it was less complicated to handle. But after a decade we all saw the boom in the culture which lead to what that is called information overload as you get too much of information in social media that you ain’t bother about scavenging books to do your assignments. But at this point it all look pretty much of a good news for a freelance writer in India as more people fled more viewers and more traffic. But what happened in this evolution was that in next couple of years audience with the public forums in hands were given golden opportunity which allowed them to write and publish whatever they want. This lead to rise in false information’s without any sensible background. This lead to the losing of credibility of many established writers. The widespread plagiarism all over internet created a large vacuum of pure lies and truths . This lead to significant lose in traffics and thereby income for many bloggers and freelancers. Today it is thereby hard to distinguish between what is a true and what is false.

ഒരു രാത്രി കൂടി

മങ്ങിയ നിറമുള്ള പരുത്തി വസ്ത്രം ആ ജനാലകളെ മറച്ചിരുന്നു. അതിൽ ചുവന്ന റോസാപ്പൂക്കളാൽ അലങ്കരിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു. ചൂട് അസഹ്യമാണ്. വായുമാർഗം കടക്കുവാൻ ഒന്നും തന്നെ അവിടെയുണ്ടായിരുന്നില്ല. സമയം അറിയില്ല, തീർത്തും നിശബ്ദത നിറഞ്ഞു നിൽക്കുകയാണ് അവിടെയാകെ. കണ്ണുകൾ അടച്ചു ഉറങ്ങുവാൻ തോന്നി. ക്ഷീണം ശരീരത്തെ കീഴടക്കാൻ തുടങ്ങിയെങ്കിലും മനസ്സ് ഒരു ലക്ഷ്യത്തിനായി ഉണർന്നിരുന്നു. കതകിൽ ആരോ മുട്ടുന്നുണ്ട്.

‘കടന്ന് വന്നോളൂ’ അവൾ പറഞ്ഞു.

കാഴ്ച്ച മങ്ങിയിരുന്നെങ്കിലും മേശയിൽ അയാൾക്കായി വച്ചിരുന്ന ഒരു പൊതിയെടുത്ത അവൾ അയാൾക്ക്‌ നീട്ടി. പതിവുപോലെ വാങ്ങുവാൻ അയാൾ മടികാണിച്ചെങ്കിലും അവൾ അത് അയാളുടെ കൈയിൽ അമർത്തി കൊടുത്തു.

‘ഇതു കുറവാണല്ലോ ?. ഇതു കൊണ്ട് ഒന്നും ആവില്ല ‘, അയാൾ ഒറ്റനോട്ടത്തിൽ പറഞ്ഞു. ‘ബാക്കി എപ്പോൾ തരും. ഇനി സമയമില്ല. അറിയാലോ ?. പറഞ്ഞിരുന്ന അവധിയൊക്കെ കഴിയുകയാണ് നാളെ; അയാൾ തെല്ലു അരിശത്തോടെ പറഞ്ഞു നിർത്തി.

എന്തൊ ഒന്നുകൂടി പറയാൻ അയാൾ ആഗ്രഹിച്ചിരുനെങ്കിലും പറയാതെ നിശബ്ദനായി.

‘ ബാക്കി നാളെ ഞാൻ എത്തുച്ചേക്കാം. രാത്രി ഇനിയും ബാക്കിയാണ്. വരുവാൻ ഇനിയും ആൾ കാണും. ഇപ്പോൾ നിങ്ങൾ സമയം കളയാതെ പോകൂ ‘, അവൾ തെല്ലു ദേഷ്യത്തോടെ പറഞ്ഞൊപ്പിച്ചു. അവളുടെ ആത്മവിശ്വാസം അയാൾ വിശ്വസിപ്പിച്ചിരിക്കാം. അയാൾ  ഉടൻ തന്നെ മുറിവിട്ട് പുറത്തു പോയി. ഉള്ളിൽ വെറുപ്പുണ്ടെങ്കിലും അയാളെ അവൾ വിശ്വസിക്കുന്നു. കഴിഞ്ഞ പല വർഷങ്ങളായി അയാൾ അവൾക്കു വേണ്ടി ചെയ്ത സഹായം ഈ ശരീരം കൊണ്ട്  അയാൾക്കു കൊടുത്ത പ്രതിഫലത്തിലും അധികമാണ്. അമ്മ ആരെന്നു അറിയാതെ അയാൾ തന്റെ മകനെ വളർത്തി വലുതാക്കി. ഇന്ന് അവൻ തന്റെ പഠനം കഴിഞ്ഞു പുറത്തു ഇറങ്ങുകയാണ്. നാളെ അവന്റെ ഫീസിന്റെ കുടിശ്ശിക അടച്ചു തീർക്കുവാനുള്ള അവസാന തീയതിയാണ്. മാസങ്ങളായി ഈ ശരീരം വിറ്റുകിട്ടിയ കാശുകൊണ്ടാണ് അവനെ പഠിപ്പിച്ചത്, അവൻ പോലുമറിയാതെ. ഇന്നു കൂടി, ഈ ഒരു രാത്രി കൂടി മതിയാവും എല്ലാം തനിക്കു മതിയാക്കാൻ. ഓരോന്നും ആലോചിച്ചു കൊണ്ടിരുന്ന അവൾ ഒരാൾ തന്റെ മുറിയിലേക്കു കടന്നു വന്നത് അപ്പോഴാണ് അറിഞ്ഞത്. അവൾ പെട്ടെന്ന് എഴുന്നേറ്റ് കട്ടിലൊക്കെ വിരിച്ചു ശരിയാക്കി.

‘കാശ് മുമ്പേ പറഞ്ഞേക്കാം. പിന്നീട് കുറക്കാൻ പറ്റില്ല. നിങ്ങൾക്കു മനസിലായോ ?’,അവൾ ഇതിനിടയിൽ പറഞ്ഞു. അയാൾ ഇതു കേട്ടിട്ടു ഒന്നും മിണ്ടിയില്ല. അയാൾ അപ്പോഴും ഇരുട്ടിൽ നിൽക്കുകയാണ്.

അവൾക്കു ദേഷ്യം വന്നുവെങ്കിലും അതൊന്നും കാട്ടാതെ അവൾ മേശയിൽ വച്ചിരുന്ന വിളക്കെടുത്ത അയാളുടെ മുഖത്തേക്ക് തെളിയിച്ചു. സുന്ദരനായി ഒരു ചെറുപ്പക്കാരൻ അവിടെ നിന്നു കരയുകയാണ്. അവൾ ആകെ കുഴങ്ങിയിരുന്നു. അവൾക്കു ഒന്നും പിടികിട്ടിയിരുന്നില്ല. അവൾ എന്തെങ്കിലും പറയുന്നതിനും മുമ്പേ അയാൾ തന്റെ ഇടറിയ സ്വരത്തിൽ ഒരൊറ്റ വാക്കുമാത്രം അവളോട് പറഞ്ഞു…

‘അമ്മേ…. ‘

 

A Bizarre Fairy Tale

Once upon a time in a deep distant land as mentioned in the old fashioned fairytales there lived the ‘good’. The ‘good’ had a not so good neighbour namely ‘evil’ who always find a reason to fight with the ‘good’. One day an infant born named ‘religion’ was stuck up in their topic for fight and it was all that was necessary to trigger a great war, war of all wars , a never ending war as the old men and saints say. As the war started to take the shape and kept it’s momentum running throughout centuries ‘religion’ was almost at it’s prime. As days and ages changed everything changed and ‘religion’ now has a family with dozens of wives namely ‘caste’,’creed’,’color’ and so on. Now while all this changes happened our two main chieftains ‘good’ and ‘evil’ continue to exhibit their presence despite letting the fight being handed down to their children ‘humans’. Now the war is quite modern and unlike the old days not just the soldiers fought the war but  also everyone on the entire tribe have their own groups to fight for each other. Once the fight was only between the two, now it is between more than two say maybe infinite since nobody knows how many groups exist. But at the end of day nobody won and everybody lost a fair share. As the war progressed  this poor writer may not be there alive to unveil to you the forthcoming events of the war of wars. But one thing I am quite sure is that there are lot more words that have to be filled here inorder to end this fairytale in the words ‘thereby they lived happy there after’.

Nb: please don’t find a male chuvanism in it and everything mentioned here is of pure satire.

The Day Of Living Dead: Different Apocalyptic World

It was the day the world changed. The day the phenomenal death has finally given up. Humanity woke up to see a day when humans ceased dying. Even if you are aged and your flesh withered out exposing your frail bones you still keep on living. Infants born are placed with much burden of acknowledging every bunch of ancestors who created so much confusion and fuzz that infants born in a generation decided not to acquiesce anyone other than their dada and mama. While infants have their own troubles ,the world order was totally in jeopardy. The democracy soon was more a deflated balloon and finally it collapsed. Money soon disappeared and war broke out and went cold soon as war can never be war when no one dies. Borders disappeared and countries shut down. People moved freely all around with no system or rules whatsoever to stop them. Nobody bother to kill nobody as death was erased from their reality. Terrorists disappeared and criminals was no where to be seen. 

With boredom some even tries to go to outer space but was left in space as rocket boosters failed. People tried their best to die but nothing happened and was left only with burden of pain one way or another. Earth become so populated that it was impossible to move around and one day people vowed not to give birth again as sex was soon restricted and eventually forgotten in time. Human were deprived of all sins as nobody find meaning with existence.Religions have disappeared long ago that it never was a form of comfort. People soon lost count on their relatives as men and women moved all around the world without any particular reason and soon lost count on relationship too. Food become scare and earth became dirtier. All moved around as caste,creed,colour or any of other differences does not matter at all as living dead keep on walking as hope and prospect of future was uncertain.

Sound Of Boots: A short story

There were shadows everywhere and dimly lit source of light appeared out of nowhere .Being in the presence of utter silence and shadows was unbearable. Somewhere in distance I could here somebody weeping shortly breaking the silence and I was not sure who it was. Soaring pain in the eyelids coupled with an overall numbness was quite puzzling to me. 

Where am I?

I shredded my pain and tried to get up but I couldn’t and soaring pain in the head increased drastically. I moved my hand over my head and there it was swollen as i was being hit by something. The only thing I could remember was that of sound of walking boots. I can’t recall how I end up in this place . I almost got up despite the pain. Suddenly my thoughts were broken by small wailing that echoed around me. Few feets away from me there lies a girl lying half naked socked in blood and the deep scars on her body left within me a terror that I can’t feel the pain anymore in my severed head. I was not able to see her though as the darkness had shown it’s pity in hiding her face. I slowly and causiously moved towards her in vain as I  listened to the echoing sound of the boots which overlapped her wailing which were dying down as each second passed. As I was about to see her face a hand suddenly fall on my shoulder terrorising me in horror . I turned myself to see the familiar face of my wife looking at me. I was dreaming.

I was there seated in my desk sleeping and dreaming as I was completing the work last night and have some how fallen asleep half through. As I was leaving the room I looked back once again to the unfinished FIR( first investigation report) that lay on the table. In between the papers and his own familiar handwriting there lies the photograph of her with her face unmistakably covered in a deep dark shadow.

Somewhere inside me someone keep on asking…

What happened to her? 

What do they gain?