Kazimierz district, Krakow, Poland
March 1941
My name is Józef Oleksy and I’m a tailor. Many would wonder if only they knew I’ve started writing a diary. So, I’m keeping this a big secret. But the reason behind this writing is a girl, whom I met outside the Remu synagogue. I feel like I’m dancing with the stars now. How wonderful!
In all my life I’ve never seen such a beautiful face. Two days after I first met her, she came to my shop for some minor stitching. I was dumbstruck and couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was dressed in a white top and a blue skirt, which was perfect for her. I asked her name and she replied ‘Adela‘ but I thought Angela would have been more appropriate to address my lovely angel. I smiled, she noticed that and frowned. After about 10 minutes, she left leaving an opulent smile and that struck a lightning inside me.
Oswiecim, Poland
September 1941
I’ve almost forgotten about the diary. It’s been about 6 months and so many things have changed but still so many others have remained the same since then. She’s Adela Handlowa, daughter of the famous doctor, Ishtak Handlowa. We’ve progressed in our lives really well since then. After exchanging surreptitious ogles for more than a month, I took a bold decision to express my love for her. She reciprocated and I knew she would. We even had dinner at Adela’s house once. Her parents are happy to get us married but it’s hard to say when that’s going to happen. I am not in Kazimierz anymore. I was moved to Oswiecim last week along with another 300 men from my district. But only a hundred of those are here. Nobody knows the plight of the remaining two hundred. There are some rumors that they’ve been transferred to another camp for want of space but some speculate that they’ve been killed. In actual fact, there’s no room here for more people. We’re about 500 staying in a room where only 200 can be accommodated. For the past one week, I’ve been breaking stones, carrying bricks and building wooden structures. We work 10 hours a day and all we get at the end is a bowl of vegetable soup. I have definitely emaciated and must have lost at least 3 kgs by now. There are other frail bodies who have stayed much longer here and their stories are horrifying. But the SS officer who brought me here said that we’d be migrated to another ghetto and this is just a stopgap arrangement. But at this point when rumors are rampant, none can be trusted.
October 1941
Work has become a norm now and my skeletal body is too weak to do any virile task. The only solace at this time is this diary and my writing. I had symptoms of diarrhea last week but couldn't frequent the toilet because of its poor condition. Even one visit a day makes me puke. How in the world can 500 people use 3 toilets without hygiene papers and toilet seats? It’s October now, it’s already freezing here but there’s no heating for us. Neither do we get any woolen blankets nor do we have any change over clothes. But can we question anyone? No is the answer. So, I’m asking all my questions in this piece of white paper.
Last week, one of our fellow mates, Pawel, protested against the SS guards about our treatment in the camp and even threatened that he would report these atrocities to the inspection officers. He and seven of his fellow workers were taken to the vacant area between blocks 18 and 19. And all that we heard were 8 shots and I never saw Pawel again. The vacant area shooting has become very popular now. At least 50 people have been shot till date. More details later!
November 1941
Just two months have passed and I can’t believe a healthy tailor back then is almost a dead rubber now. I thought I’d quit writing but what I saw last week has prompted me to take my diary out again. We were working near the barracks and suddenly a truck passed by splashing muddy water onto the dry land. It reached the far end of the lane and stopped. A group of about 100 women disembarked and they were taken to a hall. After about an hour, they were let out and I was shocked to see the ladies parading with tonsured heads and minimal clothing in this cold weather. As the group reached us, I suddenly recognized a familiar face in the group. I couldn’t believe my eyes but it was Adela. Not even in the wildest of my dreams would I’ve imagined her in such a state. I felt that the last bit of soul left in my body is not worth a penny if I don’t rise for my Lady of love. So I pushed forward, ran amok the guards and tried to free her. The moment I held her hands in mine, I heard a sudden thud and felt the blood oozing from my head. As I fell down, one of the guards knocked me in the ribs and pushed me aside. Disheartened by the helpless condition, my vision started to blur out and all I could see was my life’s only purpose walking away from me.
When I woke up the next morning, the pain was excruciating but I questioned my fellow inmates about Adela’s whereabouts. They said the group was taken to the gas chamber but none returned except the guards. That was the saddest moment in my life. I cried and my tears came
out not from my eyes but from my heart.
Warsaw, Poland
August 1946
Vladimir Kozlov straightened his horn-rimmed glasses, adjusted his waistcoat and ordered his driver to start. He closed the car windows to stop the freezing winds from blowing into his face and opened the derelict diary.
Kozlov heads the Soviet Union commissioned investigations against the Nazi related crimes committed in areas of Poland. He and his team are currently in charge of collecting evidence for the heinous crimes committed by the Nazi men during the Second World War.
Oswiecim, Poland
December 1941
There’s no pain, there’s no fighting and there’s no writing anymore. My insubordination and frail condition have finally got the guards attention. These words are not written anywhere but they’ll be interred inside me forever. I’m standing in this chamber and I can only pray that this doesn’t happen to any other human being again. The room’s doors close and I can already sense Adela inviting me.
Epilogue – This is my tribute to the over 6 million Jews who died in the most dreaded Holocaust. The Nazi Germans built concentration camps at Oswiecim a.k.a Auschwitz where prisoners, mainly Jews, were ill-treated, deprived of basic living conditions and eventually killed. It is to be noted that most of the people in the camps were not guilty of any crimes and were eminent professionals like musicians, doctors and engineers. The two camps namely Auschwitz I and the much bigger Auschwitz II (or Birkenau) are part of the UNESCO list of World heritage sites now.
Genocides are common even in these days but the idea of eliminating a race altogether from this world and building concentration camps to achieve that purpose proves how cruel some of our fellow men in this world have been.
Let’s pray for all those lost souls and work for world peace and harmony.
All characters and incidents in this self-written work are fictitious and any resemblance to any real characters or incidents is purely coincidental.
Written by Navin Radha
Sunday 29 November 2009
Sunday 7 June 2009
Atlantic Spice
“Passengers arriving on flight GJ-222 from New York are requested to proceed to immigration and not wait for baggage collection”, announced Deepti, an airhostess with Grand Jet, with her sweet, honey like voice.
“I should’ve expected this. I know! I know this would happen”, muttered Ragav to himself.
Ragav, a biochemical engineer, has been working in the US for about 4 years now and the fact that he had spent another 8 years of study there takes the tally to 12, a figure from which anyone would guess that Ragav is half-American by now.
He has come down now to get married to one, Miss Veena, an HR consultant, working for a reputed IT firm in Chennai. Though they’ve never met each other in person, the myriad telephonic conversations and online chats they’ve had in the past 6 months don’t make them strangers, thanks to the advancements in Internet technology.
Since they knew each other well, Veena had come alone to the airport to pick Ragav up. Ragav was in an irritable mood because of the long, tiring journey and the fact that his baggage had not arrived added fuel to the already burning fire. To make matters worse, the scorching heat outside annulled the air conditioning effect of Veena’s car. Veena, based on her past experience with Ragav, realized his mood well and decided not to start off any conversation before reaching home. She dropped him home and they decided to meet at the Kalahari’s for a light evening meal at 7 pm.
They arrived at the restaurant together and as they entered, Ragav put his right hand on Veena’s shoulder. Veena smirked at Ragav’s conspicuous public display of affection and politely took his hand off as they approached their already reserved table.
Ragav took his seat and said “Veena, come on! We’re in the era of computers, mobile phones and sat navs. What’s the big deal in a guy putting his hand on his fiancée?”
“Ragav, this is not America and we don’t want to invite unnecessary glares, do we?” questioned Veena.
Ragav: “What the hell! We in the US live a trouble-free life unlike…”
Before Ragav could finish, Veena politely reminded him, “Ragav, you’re still an Indian, living in the US”.
Ragav: “Blame my parents for that! They don’t like me getting a US citizenship”.
As a matter of great relief for Veena, the waiter came to the table and asked the all time commonplace question, “What’d you like to have please?”
Ragav (with a highly accented tone): “Can I have the menu please?”.
They ordered their starters, naans and curries and started looking at the beautifully decorated interiors. After a while, Ragav broke the silence and apologised for starting off the heated conversation. Veena smiled and started talking about the carnatic concert she attended last night.
They savoured the dishes and within about 10 minutes, Ragav bit a red-hot chilli and yelled “Indian curries, useless! They burn us out”.
Veena: “Ragav, chillies are meant to be hot. Don’t you know that? That’s the speciality of Indian curries.”
Ragav: “That’s enough, Veen. Stop boasting about India. I don’t want to start this but you’re too presumptuous to leave matters here.”
Veena: “I’ve had enough of this as well. What’s not in India that you have in the US?”
Ragav: “OK. Firstly, we live an independent life. We don’t trouble our neighbours borrowing coffee powders and ladles.”
Veena: “Very well! Is that your problem?”
“Mr. Shankar, my neighbour, fell unconscious last month. If it weren’t for my dad’s immediate reaction and assistance, he’d be long dead by now. What do you say about that? BTW, do you know who lives to your left?”
Ragav: “I think it’s the Taylor’s. Ok, forget it. I, anyways, don’t know who lives to my right.”
Veena (with a sardonic smile): “How’s the madras curry, Raag?”
Ragav: “Don’t change the topic, Veen. Look how untidy this city is. I mean, everything’s strewn on the roads, it’s so unhygienic.”
Veena: “Agreed, but what do you do at home? You walk with shoes on carpets. Do you know the kind of microorganisms you’d be carrying? Which health standards agency recommends that?”
Ragav (slightly puzzled): “Veena, don’t be a fool. It’s freezing there. I can’t walk with bare feet”.
By this time they’d finished their meal and the waiter came to their rescue yet again, this time only with their bill. Ragav opened his wallet immediately and took out a 10-dollar note. “Oh”, he shrugged and felt gutted he didn’t change his currency.
“No worries, Raag. I’ve got my INDIAN credit card” stressed Veena and winked at Ragav.
Back in the car, Veena started driving and switched the CD player on and Mr. Mellifluous, Unni Krishnan started singing ‘Krishna nee beganey…. baro’.
The signal turned green at one of the junctions and as Veena drove past the speeding two-wheelers, Ragav inquired about Raji, a friend of Veena.
Veena mentioned about Raji’s parents not liking her groom choice and Ragav immediately commented, “Gross! Why are parents so influential here? You know, people in the US start living independently at the age of 18 and parents don’t interfere in their children’s love life”
Veena: “You’re right my darling but we, in India, don’t take appointments to meet our parents”
Ragav: “You’re hopeless, Veen. You don’t talk like an HR consultant, you sound like an 80 year old grand lady.”
Veena (smiles): “Ragav, what’s your problem? What’s troubling you?”
Ragav: “Look Veena, I’ve lived a more comfortable life in the U.S. So, it’s kind of difficult for me to adjust here. Please try to understand that.”
Ragav, totally cross with the discussion, turned the pages of the day’s newspaper and suddenly growled, “Look, look! People here rob houses, steal money, pickpocket. It’s gross!”
Veena: “Raag, what do you think about gunmen hunting down innocent people in universities and colleges for no reason?”
“Don’t you read your own papers for heaven’s sake?”
Ragav (infuriated): “Veena, that’s attitude at its heights. Don’t try to counter everything. What pleasure do you seek in irritating me?”
Ragav continued talking and, suddenly, the vehicle came to a grinding halt. Veena got down, held Ragav’s hand and ushered him to a pavement in Elliots beach.
Veena: “Ragav, I’m neither being rude nor am I defending anything here. See, there are certain good things in the U.S. that don’t happen here. I’m sane enough to understand your feelings. But there are some things that are good here and they don’t happen there. You should try to understand that as well. There are cultural differences between the two countries and it’d be strange for anyone moving from one of these countries to another. You’ve lived in the US for quite a while but you’re no alien to the way Indians live. In fact, you were born and brought up here and no other citizenship could change that fact.”
Ragav (in a slightly confused tone): “What do you want me to do now?”
Veena: “Nothing! I was so happy this morning that I was going to meet you. I never thought we’d end our first day up discussing all of these. Anyways, I’m a partner in crime too. So, sorry about that but I want to let you know that I love you from the bottom of my heart and am really looking forward to marrying you”
Ragav (with an innocent smile): “You’re right, Veen. I had that superior air around me. I totally agree that one should respect other cultures, err…sorry, firstly one’s own culture. You know what, I don’t think American girls are as sweet as their Indian counterparts.”
Veena (with a bright smile and a wink): “Mr. Romantic, please beware that U-turns are not allowed in this beach.
As both laughed at Veena’s comment, she opened the gift she had bought for Ragav.
Gleefully accepting the scented perfume, Ragav laughed out loud reading its name.
“I should’ve expected this. I know! I know this would happen”, muttered Ragav to himself.
Ragav, a biochemical engineer, has been working in the US for about 4 years now and the fact that he had spent another 8 years of study there takes the tally to 12, a figure from which anyone would guess that Ragav is half-American by now.
He has come down now to get married to one, Miss Veena, an HR consultant, working for a reputed IT firm in Chennai. Though they’ve never met each other in person, the myriad telephonic conversations and online chats they’ve had in the past 6 months don’t make them strangers, thanks to the advancements in Internet technology.
Since they knew each other well, Veena had come alone to the airport to pick Ragav up. Ragav was in an irritable mood because of the long, tiring journey and the fact that his baggage had not arrived added fuel to the already burning fire. To make matters worse, the scorching heat outside annulled the air conditioning effect of Veena’s car. Veena, based on her past experience with Ragav, realized his mood well and decided not to start off any conversation before reaching home. She dropped him home and they decided to meet at the Kalahari’s for a light evening meal at 7 pm.
They arrived at the restaurant together and as they entered, Ragav put his right hand on Veena’s shoulder. Veena smirked at Ragav’s conspicuous public display of affection and politely took his hand off as they approached their already reserved table.
Ragav took his seat and said “Veena, come on! We’re in the era of computers, mobile phones and sat navs. What’s the big deal in a guy putting his hand on his fiancée?”
“Ragav, this is not America and we don’t want to invite unnecessary glares, do we?” questioned Veena.
Ragav: “What the hell! We in the US live a trouble-free life unlike…”
Before Ragav could finish, Veena politely reminded him, “Ragav, you’re still an Indian, living in the US”.
Ragav: “Blame my parents for that! They don’t like me getting a US citizenship”.
As a matter of great relief for Veena, the waiter came to the table and asked the all time commonplace question, “What’d you like to have please?”
Ragav (with a highly accented tone): “Can I have the menu please?”.
They ordered their starters, naans and curries and started looking at the beautifully decorated interiors. After a while, Ragav broke the silence and apologised for starting off the heated conversation. Veena smiled and started talking about the carnatic concert she attended last night.
They savoured the dishes and within about 10 minutes, Ragav bit a red-hot chilli and yelled “Indian curries, useless! They burn us out”.
Veena: “Ragav, chillies are meant to be hot. Don’t you know that? That’s the speciality of Indian curries.”
Ragav: “That’s enough, Veen. Stop boasting about India. I don’t want to start this but you’re too presumptuous to leave matters here.”
Veena: “I’ve had enough of this as well. What’s not in India that you have in the US?”
Ragav: “OK. Firstly, we live an independent life. We don’t trouble our neighbours borrowing coffee powders and ladles.”
Veena: “Very well! Is that your problem?”
“Mr. Shankar, my neighbour, fell unconscious last month. If it weren’t for my dad’s immediate reaction and assistance, he’d be long dead by now. What do you say about that? BTW, do you know who lives to your left?”
Ragav: “I think it’s the Taylor’s. Ok, forget it. I, anyways, don’t know who lives to my right.”
Veena (with a sardonic smile): “How’s the madras curry, Raag?”
Ragav: “Don’t change the topic, Veen. Look how untidy this city is. I mean, everything’s strewn on the roads, it’s so unhygienic.”
Veena: “Agreed, but what do you do at home? You walk with shoes on carpets. Do you know the kind of microorganisms you’d be carrying? Which health standards agency recommends that?”
Ragav (slightly puzzled): “Veena, don’t be a fool. It’s freezing there. I can’t walk with bare feet”.
By this time they’d finished their meal and the waiter came to their rescue yet again, this time only with their bill. Ragav opened his wallet immediately and took out a 10-dollar note. “Oh”, he shrugged and felt gutted he didn’t change his currency.
“No worries, Raag. I’ve got my INDIAN credit card” stressed Veena and winked at Ragav.
Back in the car, Veena started driving and switched the CD player on and Mr. Mellifluous, Unni Krishnan started singing ‘Krishna nee beganey…. baro’.
The signal turned green at one of the junctions and as Veena drove past the speeding two-wheelers, Ragav inquired about Raji, a friend of Veena.
Veena mentioned about Raji’s parents not liking her groom choice and Ragav immediately commented, “Gross! Why are parents so influential here? You know, people in the US start living independently at the age of 18 and parents don’t interfere in their children’s love life”
Veena: “You’re right my darling but we, in India, don’t take appointments to meet our parents”
Ragav: “You’re hopeless, Veen. You don’t talk like an HR consultant, you sound like an 80 year old grand lady.”
Veena (smiles): “Ragav, what’s your problem? What’s troubling you?”
Ragav: “Look Veena, I’ve lived a more comfortable life in the U.S. So, it’s kind of difficult for me to adjust here. Please try to understand that.”
Ragav, totally cross with the discussion, turned the pages of the day’s newspaper and suddenly growled, “Look, look! People here rob houses, steal money, pickpocket. It’s gross!”
Veena: “Raag, what do you think about gunmen hunting down innocent people in universities and colleges for no reason?”
“Don’t you read your own papers for heaven’s sake?”
Ragav (infuriated): “Veena, that’s attitude at its heights. Don’t try to counter everything. What pleasure do you seek in irritating me?”
Ragav continued talking and, suddenly, the vehicle came to a grinding halt. Veena got down, held Ragav’s hand and ushered him to a pavement in Elliots beach.
Veena: “Ragav, I’m neither being rude nor am I defending anything here. See, there are certain good things in the U.S. that don’t happen here. I’m sane enough to understand your feelings. But there are some things that are good here and they don’t happen there. You should try to understand that as well. There are cultural differences between the two countries and it’d be strange for anyone moving from one of these countries to another. You’ve lived in the US for quite a while but you’re no alien to the way Indians live. In fact, you were born and brought up here and no other citizenship could change that fact.”
Ragav (in a slightly confused tone): “What do you want me to do now?”
Veena: “Nothing! I was so happy this morning that I was going to meet you. I never thought we’d end our first day up discussing all of these. Anyways, I’m a partner in crime too. So, sorry about that but I want to let you know that I love you from the bottom of my heart and am really looking forward to marrying you”
Ragav (with an innocent smile): “You’re right, Veen. I had that superior air around me. I totally agree that one should respect other cultures, err…sorry, firstly one’s own culture. You know what, I don’t think American girls are as sweet as their Indian counterparts.”
Veena (with a bright smile and a wink): “Mr. Romantic, please beware that U-turns are not allowed in this beach.
As both laughed at Veena’s comment, she opened the gift she had bought for Ragav.
Gleefully accepting the scented perfume, Ragav laughed out loud reading its name.
Atlantic Spice
200 ml
Made in India
200 ml
Made in India
Tuesday 17 February 2009
Voice LISTed
Chapter 1 - The Car boot sale
Pete (a.k.a Peter List), a part-time worker in the telecommunications department of Falcon Telecom, woke up early on this Saturday morning to greet the bright morning sunlight. He prepared a chicken sandwich with some greens and ham-smoked cheese, and a sugar less, dark roast coffee for his breakfast. He then boiled milk, poured it into his expensive Belgian porcelain bowl, added some cereals and fixed his 90-year old grandpa his breakfast.
He dressed himself in a kaki short and a beach shirt, wore his Aviator style Ray-Ban coolers, and got ready for the car boot sale in Elmondsbury.
His Passat started on the first-go as he turned the keys on. He pressed on the accelerator and zoomed past his silent avenue. Enjoying the roadside greenery, he reached the spot, which was already filled with the day’s sellers and buyers. He slowly removed his products and moved to the slot allocated to him.
The sale went on well. In about 2 hours time, he had sold a ‘Sound of Music’ VCD for a pound, an old orange bucket for 75p and a cordless telephone for 80p among other less-than-a-pound items.
So, even the not-so-familiar mortals would’ve now realized that a car boot sale isn’t about real vendors selling their products to make a living. Instead, it’s about normal people selling their unwanted things, which in turn might be wanted by others. Of course, this is one of the summer time hobbies for many.
As the sale end time was fast approaching, Pete was left with only two things – an old Frank Sinatra audiocassette and a multi-purpose repair kit.
Chapter 2 - The Voice
Philip was ecstatic as soon as he bought this Frank Sinatra cassette for a meager 25p.
As soon as he pressed the play button on his Sony cassette player, Frank Sinatra started singing
‘A fine romance, with no kisses
A fine romance, my friend this is
We should be like a couple of hot tomatoes’
Singing stops
Who is that lady?
I thought we were in love. What’s happening to you, why are you doing this to me?
Leave me, please!
Leave me, please!
I won’t ask you anything from now on.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
And Frank Sinatra continued to sing ‘A fine romance, with no kisses’.
Philip was thrown aback upon hearing this.
Chapter 3 – The Sheriff’s office
David Callan, father of Philip Callan, didn’t believe when his son told him about the cassette. But, Dave was shocked when he heard it himself and took the cassette to the nearby Sheriff’s office for investigation.
As the Sheriff started his inquisition ranging from ‘Where they are staying?’ to ‘From whom they bought this cassette from?’ the little boy slowly began to paint the seller’s face in his mind.
Chapter 4 – The Investigation
The Sheriff tracked the address of Pete with the information he got from Philip and did a background check on Pete’s family, friends and occupation.
After a few days, while he was surfing the old records, he found a complaint reported at the Severn Castle police station by one Ms. Jessica James on her daughter, Sara James’ sudden disappearance. The complaint was reported three months after Sara had split her relationship with her ex-boy friend, Peter List.
Chapter 5 – The Fugitive
The Monday morning news of ‘The Daily Telegraph’ read:
Alleged Murderer escapes:
Part time worker Pete, accused of murdering his ex-girl friend, was taken to custody yesterday. On the way to his interrogation cell, he pulled out a daring escape, which has now raised questions on the effectiveness of the local county’s police force.
Pete read this news in a Tesco express shop where he had gone to grab a sandwich. He couldn’t accept the charges but knew that nobody would believe he is innocent.
He had been away from his house for about six days but the only thing that worried him was his grandpa’s loneliness.
Chapter 6 – Sara James and Mitchell Wilcox
As speculations were rife about Sara’s disappearance and alleged murder, the chief at the Severn Castle police station was suddenly under tremendous pressure from his higher officials as well as the media. In fact, the Julian Broadcasting Corporation had already stationed its fourth estate group outside the office to ensure that nothing went unnoticed.
As the chief was preparing his weekly status report, he heard a voice saying
Hello, Sir
The chief, without raising his head, replied
Yea. What do you want? And whatever it is, you’ve just got 2 minutes
The lady replied
I’m Sara James, daughter of Jessica James. Now, how many minutes have I got?
The chief sat eyeing Sara and her friend, Mitchell with his mouth agape.
Then, Sara started explaining her side of the story. She informed that she wasn’t happy with her mother’s attitude towards her and hence had run off to Mitchell’s place in Gladstonebury. She also informed that she had a break up with Pete three months before she disappeared but confirmed that Pete was never a threat to her life and they had split up purely because of some personal issues.
She also apologized for not revealing where she was, despite seeing several advertisements put in the newspapers by the local police and her mother. She never thought the consequences of her actions, rather inactions, would be so dire.
Chapter 8 – The Release
As soon as the Sara James’ news went on air, the police announced that they’ve dropped the case on Pete and asked him to contact the nearby police station immediately.
Pete was happy on hearing this and even happier that Sara was alive.
After all, she was his love lady once.
Chapter 9 – The end of List
Pete thought about his grandpa and rushed home immediately. As he opened the door, he saw the body of his motionless grandfather. He checked his pulse but the result wasn’t convincing.
Tears started rolling from his eyes as he thought about the time he spent with his grandpa. His parents had died in a car accident ten years ago. Since then, the only companion he had at home was his grandpa.
Chapter 10 – The pill
After hearing Sara’s version, the Sheriff was relieved but confused on the path the case had taken. He knew for sure that the voice was real and started to check his old records to find any clues.
Pete neatly arranged everything, dressed up his grandpa, informed the local funeral office and rang the Sheriff.
After about half an hour, the Sheriff applied his car brakes and the tires made a squealing noise as the car came to a grinding halt. He rushed to Pete’s apartment and asked him who John List was.
Pete handed the Sheriff a letter.
The Sheriff resigned to the blue easy chair after reading it.
Hello Pete,
I saw the news today and I believe everyone is curious about the voice in the cassette.
Even I was surprised to hear that voice in the news.
I don’t want you to be charged for a crime that you didn’t commit.
I would like to inform you, and the world, that the voice belongs to Jennie (your grandma).
This has remained a secret for about 45 years.
I would also like to confess that she was killed and I’m the murderer.
It all happened in a hurry when we had a quarrel on my having an extra marital affair.
But, I didn’t have the courage to reveal this neither to our family nor to the police.
I buried her in our garden and removed all the traces that would raise any suspicion. I also made the world believe that she had eloped with her boy friend to an unknown location. The only thing that I didn’t pay attention to was the cassette recorder in her trouser pocket. I just removed and placed it in the draw.
Though I feel that this has to be revealed now, I neither have the age nor the courage to face the world.
Thanks to you for all the help. You have taken good care of me.
And, thanks to the Valium pills that are gonna help me end my life.
Regards,
John List
- Written by Navin Radha a.k.a Aravindhan S
Pete (a.k.a Peter List), a part-time worker in the telecommunications department of Falcon Telecom, woke up early on this Saturday morning to greet the bright morning sunlight. He prepared a chicken sandwich with some greens and ham-smoked cheese, and a sugar less, dark roast coffee for his breakfast. He then boiled milk, poured it into his expensive Belgian porcelain bowl, added some cereals and fixed his 90-year old grandpa his breakfast.
He dressed himself in a kaki short and a beach shirt, wore his Aviator style Ray-Ban coolers, and got ready for the car boot sale in Elmondsbury.
His Passat started on the first-go as he turned the keys on. He pressed on the accelerator and zoomed past his silent avenue. Enjoying the roadside greenery, he reached the spot, which was already filled with the day’s sellers and buyers. He slowly removed his products and moved to the slot allocated to him.
The sale went on well. In about 2 hours time, he had sold a ‘Sound of Music’ VCD for a pound, an old orange bucket for 75p and a cordless telephone for 80p among other less-than-a-pound items.
So, even the not-so-familiar mortals would’ve now realized that a car boot sale isn’t about real vendors selling their products to make a living. Instead, it’s about normal people selling their unwanted things, which in turn might be wanted by others. Of course, this is one of the summer time hobbies for many.
As the sale end time was fast approaching, Pete was left with only two things – an old Frank Sinatra audiocassette and a multi-purpose repair kit.
Chapter 2 - The Voice
Philip was ecstatic as soon as he bought this Frank Sinatra cassette for a meager 25p.
As soon as he pressed the play button on his Sony cassette player, Frank Sinatra started singing
‘A fine romance, with no kisses
A fine romance, my friend this is
We should be like a couple of hot tomatoes’
Singing stops
Who is that lady?
I thought we were in love. What’s happening to you, why are you doing this to me?
Leave me, please!
Leave me, please!
I won’t ask you anything from now on.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
And Frank Sinatra continued to sing ‘A fine romance, with no kisses’.
Philip was thrown aback upon hearing this.
Chapter 3 – The Sheriff’s office
David Callan, father of Philip Callan, didn’t believe when his son told him about the cassette. But, Dave was shocked when he heard it himself and took the cassette to the nearby Sheriff’s office for investigation.
As the Sheriff started his inquisition ranging from ‘Where they are staying?’ to ‘From whom they bought this cassette from?’ the little boy slowly began to paint the seller’s face in his mind.
Chapter 4 – The Investigation
The Sheriff tracked the address of Pete with the information he got from Philip and did a background check on Pete’s family, friends and occupation.
After a few days, while he was surfing the old records, he found a complaint reported at the Severn Castle police station by one Ms. Jessica James on her daughter, Sara James’ sudden disappearance. The complaint was reported three months after Sara had split her relationship with her ex-boy friend, Peter List.
Chapter 5 – The Fugitive
The Monday morning news of ‘The Daily Telegraph’ read:
Alleged Murderer escapes:
Part time worker Pete, accused of murdering his ex-girl friend, was taken to custody yesterday. On the way to his interrogation cell, he pulled out a daring escape, which has now raised questions on the effectiveness of the local county’s police force.
Pete read this news in a Tesco express shop where he had gone to grab a sandwich. He couldn’t accept the charges but knew that nobody would believe he is innocent.
He had been away from his house for about six days but the only thing that worried him was his grandpa’s loneliness.
Chapter 6 – Sara James and Mitchell Wilcox
As speculations were rife about Sara’s disappearance and alleged murder, the chief at the Severn Castle police station was suddenly under tremendous pressure from his higher officials as well as the media. In fact, the Julian Broadcasting Corporation had already stationed its fourth estate group outside the office to ensure that nothing went unnoticed.
As the chief was preparing his weekly status report, he heard a voice saying
Hello, Sir
The chief, without raising his head, replied
Yea. What do you want? And whatever it is, you’ve just got 2 minutes
The lady replied
I’m Sara James, daughter of Jessica James. Now, how many minutes have I got?
The chief sat eyeing Sara and her friend, Mitchell with his mouth agape.
Then, Sara started explaining her side of the story. She informed that she wasn’t happy with her mother’s attitude towards her and hence had run off to Mitchell’s place in Gladstonebury. She also informed that she had a break up with Pete three months before she disappeared but confirmed that Pete was never a threat to her life and they had split up purely because of some personal issues.
She also apologized for not revealing where she was, despite seeing several advertisements put in the newspapers by the local police and her mother. She never thought the consequences of her actions, rather inactions, would be so dire.
Chapter 8 – The Release
As soon as the Sara James’ news went on air, the police announced that they’ve dropped the case on Pete and asked him to contact the nearby police station immediately.
Pete was happy on hearing this and even happier that Sara was alive.
After all, she was his love lady once.
Chapter 9 – The end of List
Pete thought about his grandpa and rushed home immediately. As he opened the door, he saw the body of his motionless grandfather. He checked his pulse but the result wasn’t convincing.
Tears started rolling from his eyes as he thought about the time he spent with his grandpa. His parents had died in a car accident ten years ago. Since then, the only companion he had at home was his grandpa.
Chapter 10 – The pill
After hearing Sara’s version, the Sheriff was relieved but confused on the path the case had taken. He knew for sure that the voice was real and started to check his old records to find any clues.
Pete neatly arranged everything, dressed up his grandpa, informed the local funeral office and rang the Sheriff.
After about half an hour, the Sheriff applied his car brakes and the tires made a squealing noise as the car came to a grinding halt. He rushed to Pete’s apartment and asked him who John List was.
Pete handed the Sheriff a letter.
The Sheriff resigned to the blue easy chair after reading it.
Hello Pete,
I saw the news today and I believe everyone is curious about the voice in the cassette.
Even I was surprised to hear that voice in the news.
I don’t want you to be charged for a crime that you didn’t commit.
I would like to inform you, and the world, that the voice belongs to Jennie (your grandma).
This has remained a secret for about 45 years.
I would also like to confess that she was killed and I’m the murderer.
It all happened in a hurry when we had a quarrel on my having an extra marital affair.
But, I didn’t have the courage to reveal this neither to our family nor to the police.
I buried her in our garden and removed all the traces that would raise any suspicion. I also made the world believe that she had eloped with her boy friend to an unknown location. The only thing that I didn’t pay attention to was the cassette recorder in her trouser pocket. I just removed and placed it in the draw.
Though I feel that this has to be revealed now, I neither have the age nor the courage to face the world.
Thanks to you for all the help. You have taken good care of me.
And, thanks to the Valium pills that are gonna help me end my life.
Regards,
John List
- Written by Navin Radha a.k.a Aravindhan S
Random leaflets of a personal diary
Chapter 1 – The last rites
Two days ago, my hubby and I were kidnapped. We were taken to an undisclosed location with our eyes closed. The kidnappers tried to rape me and loot us. My hubby tried to save us but he was shot by one of them. He, later, succumbed to his injuries.
After writing these lines, she threw the diary into his funeral pyre.
Chapter 2 – The first night
‘After marriage’ life is a different world.
A friend of mine once said that having sex is just like eating, sleeping and talking.
But everyone frowned at him. Even I thought the subject was taboo.
But now, I realize that it’s just normal.
Believe me, it takes you to heights of pleasure and happiness.
Chapter 3 – The chat logs
I can’t say I know everything about computers but I’m pretty much confident that I can hack most of the unsecured websites. Cracking passwords and solving anagrams have always been my passion.
Today, I was checking the chat logs to find an old conversation with my friend. But I managed to find a chat log of my wife. I smiled at it once and wanted to check what we were chatting before our marriage. I thought it would be fun.
She was in the kitchen. I was about to call her but stopped after seeing the following conversation.
Smileygirl72: Hi
Rogerpad88: How are you, dear?
Smileygirl72: I’m fine but I’m missing you very badly.
Rogerpad88: Don’t worry.
Smileygirl72: But it’s kind of very hard for me. You know, I couldn’t stop myself from having…. Can you understand?
Rogerpad88: Yes, dear. My love is not physical. All I want is you and only you.
And it continued…
Yes, it wasn’t our chat but hers.
I was shocked to find this.
Chapter 4 – Meeting my better half
It’s time to get married. That’s what I realized when my parents told me about their searching a girl for me. Hang on!
All these 25 years, I studied, prepared for my exams, hunted for jobs, got a decent one and earned a lot of money. But not a minute in my life did I think about my better half.
Why?
It’s not that I hate girls or I’m a celibate. I just couldn’t find time for this.
But why should my parents find a girl for me? I should go for a love marriage. No, it’s too late. It would take at least 2 years to find a girl, talk to her, and convince ourselves that we are in love with each other. Forget it!
But my parents are proactive. They’ve seen this girl, talked to her parents and they are almost sure that she ‘would be’ my wife. I’ve been given a mobile number and they’ve asked me to speak a few words to her.
Yes, I spoke to her for three hours. I’ve never spoken to a girl for such a long time in my whole life. The conversation was interesting but what did we discuss? I don’t remember. Her voice is really sweet. This isn’t making any sense. I’m going mad. Is this what is called love?
I did see her photo (I guess she has sent the best pic of hers). Man, she did look beautiful. So, I called up my parents and said ok. And yes, I’m going to meet her at a restaurant next week. Do you believe that? This is happening so fast.
Chapter 5 - The wild encounter
I’m writing this from my hospital bed. The pain is excruciating and I’m not able to speak.
I was following her, the ‘HER’ of my life. I don’t have an idea why she was traveling on that train at that time in the night. But suddenly she got down at a remote station.
I barely had the time to jump off the train, as she got down at the last second.
I was lucky; she didn’t notice my fall. She was on the run.
Wiping the dirt on my clothes, I noticed her image receding from my vision and hence followed her quickly but stealthily. I saw her entering an old dilapidated house. I tried to get in but heard a gun shot instead. I have seen bullets boring holes only in the movies but never believed they had such power. But today that I received one right on my chest, I accept, it does hurt badly. I was slowly losing my conscious and all I could see, in front of me, was a man, aged about 25, with a trimmed mustache and a .67 Walther in his hand.
Oh yes, standing next to him was my beloved wife.
Chapter 6 – The engagement
Today is a day to be remembered. My engagement just got over and, man, she was looking pretty. I stood like a proud man in front of my college mates.
She had invited her friends too. The girl in the blue sari (her schoolmate I guess) was really cute. Ok, I wouldn’t want to start off a tiff even before we’re married.
Cheers!
Chapter X – The unwritten words
I don’t understand why my wife did this to me. She could give a hundred reasons for this but I never forced her to marry me. And not a single moment did she indicate any signs of unhappiness.
I was living my bachelorhood with full of joy and excitement. I thought she would make many pages in my diary but never thought she would be the one to write the last lines of it.
May God save all those who are destined to see similar ends.
Amen!
Two days ago, my hubby and I were kidnapped. We were taken to an undisclosed location with our eyes closed. The kidnappers tried to rape me and loot us. My hubby tried to save us but he was shot by one of them. He, later, succumbed to his injuries.
After writing these lines, she threw the diary into his funeral pyre.
Chapter 2 – The first night
‘After marriage’ life is a different world.
A friend of mine once said that having sex is just like eating, sleeping and talking.
But everyone frowned at him. Even I thought the subject was taboo.
But now, I realize that it’s just normal.
Believe me, it takes you to heights of pleasure and happiness.
Chapter 3 – The chat logs
I can’t say I know everything about computers but I’m pretty much confident that I can hack most of the unsecured websites. Cracking passwords and solving anagrams have always been my passion.
Today, I was checking the chat logs to find an old conversation with my friend. But I managed to find a chat log of my wife. I smiled at it once and wanted to check what we were chatting before our marriage. I thought it would be fun.
She was in the kitchen. I was about to call her but stopped after seeing the following conversation.
Smileygirl72: Hi
Rogerpad88: How are you, dear?
Smileygirl72: I’m fine but I’m missing you very badly.
Rogerpad88: Don’t worry.
Smileygirl72: But it’s kind of very hard for me. You know, I couldn’t stop myself from having…. Can you understand?
Rogerpad88: Yes, dear. My love is not physical. All I want is you and only you.
And it continued…
Yes, it wasn’t our chat but hers.
I was shocked to find this.
Chapter 4 – Meeting my better half
It’s time to get married. That’s what I realized when my parents told me about their searching a girl for me. Hang on!
All these 25 years, I studied, prepared for my exams, hunted for jobs, got a decent one and earned a lot of money. But not a minute in my life did I think about my better half.
Why?
It’s not that I hate girls or I’m a celibate. I just couldn’t find time for this.
But why should my parents find a girl for me? I should go for a love marriage. No, it’s too late. It would take at least 2 years to find a girl, talk to her, and convince ourselves that we are in love with each other. Forget it!
But my parents are proactive. They’ve seen this girl, talked to her parents and they are almost sure that she ‘would be’ my wife. I’ve been given a mobile number and they’ve asked me to speak a few words to her.
Yes, I spoke to her for three hours. I’ve never spoken to a girl for such a long time in my whole life. The conversation was interesting but what did we discuss? I don’t remember. Her voice is really sweet. This isn’t making any sense. I’m going mad. Is this what is called love?
I did see her photo (I guess she has sent the best pic of hers). Man, she did look beautiful. So, I called up my parents and said ok. And yes, I’m going to meet her at a restaurant next week. Do you believe that? This is happening so fast.
Chapter 5 - The wild encounter
I’m writing this from my hospital bed. The pain is excruciating and I’m not able to speak.
I was following her, the ‘HER’ of my life. I don’t have an idea why she was traveling on that train at that time in the night. But suddenly she got down at a remote station.
I barely had the time to jump off the train, as she got down at the last second.
I was lucky; she didn’t notice my fall. She was on the run.
Wiping the dirt on my clothes, I noticed her image receding from my vision and hence followed her quickly but stealthily. I saw her entering an old dilapidated house. I tried to get in but heard a gun shot instead. I have seen bullets boring holes only in the movies but never believed they had such power. But today that I received one right on my chest, I accept, it does hurt badly. I was slowly losing my conscious and all I could see, in front of me, was a man, aged about 25, with a trimmed mustache and a .67 Walther in his hand.
Oh yes, standing next to him was my beloved wife.
Chapter 6 – The engagement
Today is a day to be remembered. My engagement just got over and, man, she was looking pretty. I stood like a proud man in front of my college mates.
She had invited her friends too. The girl in the blue sari (her schoolmate I guess) was really cute. Ok, I wouldn’t want to start off a tiff even before we’re married.
Cheers!
Chapter X – The unwritten words
I don’t understand why my wife did this to me. She could give a hundred reasons for this but I never forced her to marry me. And not a single moment did she indicate any signs of unhappiness.
I was living my bachelorhood with full of joy and excitement. I thought she would make many pages in my diary but never thought she would be the one to write the last lines of it.
May God save all those who are destined to see similar ends.
Amen!
A prelude to World 2100
New York, U.S.A
Mom: Honey, come on, you’re getting late.
Richard: Yes, mommy, I’m coming.
Mom: Have you taken your…
Richard: Ya, I’ve taken my lunch.
Mom: Oh that’s good but I was asking about the revolver.
Richard: Yes, mommy; I’ve taken that too.
Mom: Have you taken its license?
Richard: I’m telling this the 100th time, mommy. I always keep a soft copy of it in my palmtop.
Mom (smiles): Good boy but remember not to shoot anyone unnecessarily. Last month, you shot Jamie for a minor tiff and he lost his life. I had to pay 20000 Rallods to bring him back alive.
Richard: I know, mom. I won’t do it again.
Mom: That’s like a good boy. Shall we start?
The Mexico City, Mexico
Jennie: Holà, cómo estas?
Doctor: Mi, bien. Y tu?
Jennie: Bien. How’s my hubby, Marc doing?
Doc: His BP is normal. Sugar, urine and blood tests show nothing abnormal. So, I’m assuming he is fine.
Jennie (smiles wryly): Very nice of you, doc. So, can he be operated tomorrow?
Doc: No, that’s too early, Jennie. You need to have some patience.
Jennie: But we’ve been waiting for 10 years for this to happen.
Doc: Lady, pregnancy is not a joke. It’s a man thing. You won’t understand. I’ve myself given birth to two kids and I know what the pain is. If I operate on him tomorrow, it might cost him his life.
Jennie: No, doc, I’ll wait. I was excited, you see.
But, sorry about that anyways.
Doc: That’s ok! I see ladies like you day in and day out. They are always in a hurry.
Btw, do you want to say hello to your little kiddo?
Jennie: Yes, of course.
Jennie (knocks Marc’s tummy): Dear. How are you?
Baby (from Marc’s womb): I’m doing good, mommy. But when am I coming out? I’m eagerly waiting to see you and daddy. It’s so boring to see everything thro daddy’s tummy.
Jennie: Don’t worry, dear. You would see the world in a few days. But now you should take some rest.
Baby: Ok mommy. See you soon.
Jennie: See you honey.
Doc: All right! Come on lets have some coffee.
Jennie: Sure. I would go for red sans heroin.
Rennes, France
Receptionist: Bonjour, monsieur. Comment cava?
Carol: Cava, bien.
Receptionist: How can I help you?
Carol: I want to go to Dhaka.
Receptionist: Oh ok, let me check the cost.
Receptionist (after a minute): That would cost you 18000 Orues. Is that ok?
Carol: That’s fine but how long is the travel time?
Receptionist: The teleportation time is 10 minutes.
Carol (in a surprised tone): 10 minutes? From here to Bangladesh?
Receptionist: Oui, monsieur. Ours is a cheap teleport system. So, it would take you 10 minutes.
Carol: Whatever! Give me 2 tickets please.
Monica (Carol’s wife): I told you before not to go for a cheap teleport system. Now it’s going to take you 10 minutes and I’m pretty damn sure that the seats won’t be comfortable.
Carol: Why don’t you keep quiet for sometime. The pain is just for 10 minutes. Can’t you tolerate that?
Hamburg, Germany
Ludwick (owner of Loffthrauss repair services): Guten Tag, Halo.
Muller: Halo, service card no 78651. Is my delivery ready?
Ludwick: One second, sir. Let me check my records. Sir, we’ve not yet received the instruments for the repair.
Muller: I gave you my left hand two weeks before for a minor nerve repair and now, you are giving me these lame excuses. This is bad customer service.
Ludwick: Sorry about that, sir. I’ll make sure you receive your hand in perfect condition next week. You’ll be amazed by the quality of our work.
Muller: All right. I’ll talk to you about the quality when I receive it. Bye
Ludwick: Sure, sir. Thanks for your patience. Aufwiedersehen
Chennai, India
Sundari (Rahul’s mom): Hello!
Rahul: Hello mom.
Mom: Hello son. How are you?
Rahul: I’m fine. How are you and how’s dad?
Mom: We’re fine. So, what’s happening there?
Rahul: Today is a holiday here, mom. I’m hungry but am too bored to cook.
Mom: Don’t worry. I’ve made some sambar rice and potato curry. Would you like to have some?
Rahul: Sure mom, the biryani you passed on last week was amazing. I shared it with my friends and they too simply loved it.
Mom: Rahul, which button should I press on this phone to send food?
Rahul: Button 2 mom, read the instructions. It would say ‘Send to Spain’. Then select Barcelona from the city dropdown and enter my postcode.
Mom: Oh ok, now I remember.
Rahul: But, don’t forget to wrap it using the platinum cover. Else, it won’t be hot.
Mom: Yes, I do remember you telling me this the last time. Your dad got a carton of platinum covers yesterday. So, don’t worry, your food is going to be hot and spicy.
Rahul: Thanks, mom.
Tokyo, Japan
Mal Wong (Xing Wong’s son): Dad
Xing Wong (a scientist): Yes, son
Mal: What are you doing?
Xing: I’m working on a confidential project to re-create an already destroyed country, son.
Mal: What (in a surprised tone)? How do you do that?
Xing: 20 years before, a country called China got destroyed. You weren’t born that time.
Mal: Really?
Xing: Yes, its neighboring country Cheronya bombed and destroyed it completely.
Mal: Oh, I see.
Xing: So, now daddy, along with Floren uncle, is working on this project to re-create China.
Mal: But, how do you do that?
Xing: We’ve got old pictures of China stored in our body-tops (next gen of lap-tops).
So, we would magnify these images and convert the pixels using that instrument over there. Can you see that big instrument standing next to the table?
Mal: Yes.
Xing: That is called Xinco-generator. It bombards the images and creates real land, sea, lakes etc.
Mal: This is unbelievable, daddy.
Xing (smiles): That’s what the whole world has been saying about our work for a long time.
Wajibaad, Kundalikistan
Engiomangifera (a mango tree): Hey, are you ok mate?
Pinapolastudia (Engiomangifera’ s friend, a pineapple tree): I’m doing well.
Engi: What’s up for breakfast?
Pina: I don’t know what happened to this river Gangolida. Not sure why it isn’t flowing today. I’m really thirsty.
Engi: Me too, me too.
Pina: But today the sun seems to be shining and there is a nice wind blowing. That’s the only solace we get at this hour. Otherwise it’s just another boring day.
Engi: Ya, it’s getting a bit monotonous, nowadays. I’m thinking of moving to Lazybaad.
Pina (smirks): Good. That place would be appropriate for lazy bones like you.
Engi (frowns): Too bad, mate. But I’m going to sleep. So, bye for now.
Pina: Bye.
Harare, Zimbabwe
Television anchor: Good morning. I welcome you all to the pre-election show on RMT.
As the elections are round the corner, we request all the citizens to make a note of the websites.
You can logon to one of our party’s websites to cast your votes. We won’t force you to vote for our leader and you can choose any candidate of your choice. But you know who the winner is going to be. So, why waste your time voting for others?
Our website links are:
Other websites you can use are:
Log in early to avoid the rush.
Mariya (A Zimbabwean resident): I thought we would be free when he died the second time. But these B******* have cloned him again from his DNA.
Science! Damn it!
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