Tuesday 11 December 2018

INFINITE


Infinite Almighty resides
In every infinitesimal speck
Of the infinite universe.
In all His abundant cosmic wisdom
He has filled it with these.

Infinite sorrow and infinite happiness
Infinite hatred and infinite love
Infinite black and infinite white
Infinite darkness and infinite light
Infinite cruelty and infinite kindness
Infinite silence and infinite sound.

Infinitesimal human made of infinitesimal atoms filled with infinite Almighty, is infinitely ignorant of the infinite potential latent in him.
It is human’s cosmic duty to understand the infinity within him.

                                                                             …Shyam Sundar Bulusu

Friday 16 November 2018

Sunday 11 November 2018

SOLITUDE




Not for me the chirping bird
Not for me the whispering wind
Not for me the blossoming bud
Just the silent solitude.

Not for me the scorching sunshine
Not for me the milky moonshine
Not for me the lush Mother Nature
Just the infinite solitude.

Not for me the sweetness of music
Nor for me the life’s vivid colours
Not for me the escape into God
Just the hollow solitude.

Not for me the yearn of y’terday
Not for me the lure of ’morrow
Not for me the ennui of today
Just the eternal solitude.

Thursday 27 September 2018

बिखरी बज़्म


बिखरी बज़्म तेरी फिर सजने को है
रूप तेरा धरती पर फिर आने को है
मुस्कराहट होंठों पर फैलने को है
लम्हा--इंतज़ार ख़त्म होने को है

Tuesday 18 September 2018

अधूरा कलाम




धड़कता हो कोई दिल मेरे लिए
तरसती हो कोई नज़र मेरे लिए
पुकारते हों कोई होंठ मेरा नाम
निहारती हो कोई मुझको सुबह-ओ-शाम
इन्ही हसरतों में गुज़री है ज़िंदगी मेरी
बस रहगाई है उम्र बनके अधूरा कलाम

                                … श्याम सुन्दर बुलुसु

Saturday 15 September 2018

Thursday 6 September 2018

Tuesday 28 August 2018

SWARNALATHA-1

7th December 1975 - Gowri Pooja. A few hours later we became soul mates. 

(My latest pencil sketch in memory of my late wife.)



Saturday 18 August 2018

क़सूरवार





सुरूर-ए-निगाह-ए-हसीना ने ली क़सम क़त्ल-ए-आम की,
मेरी जान निकल गई तो मेरा क्या क़सूर?

Friday 17 August 2018

क़ायम है


तनहाई क़ायम है, ख़िज़ाँ--हयात क़ायम है, क़ायम है दर्द--रुख़सत--महबूब।

सफर क़ायम है, तनहा मुसाफ़िर क़ायम है, क़ायम है हसरत--विसाल--यार।

                                                          …श्याम सुन्दर बुलुसु

Thursday 16 August 2018

MY JOURNEY INTO THE WORLD OF WRITING-XVII



Not a day passes without the news about an assault on a woman, a girl, or even a baby. Not a day passes without our reading about such anguishing crimes. Not a day passes without our watching these in silent helplessness.

It is happening with sickening regularity.

There are innumerable bravehearts out there silently suffering the evil of eve-teasing, lewdness, sexual overtures, groping and pawing, stalking, assault, acid attack, molestation, and rape; many suffer silently, some fight back.

This is the story of one such braveheart, who makes the ultimate sacrifice to protect her daughter.

Through this short story, A BRAVEHEART, I pay my humble homage and tribute to all those bravehearts, who are struggling and fighting the evil every day.

There isn’t much to describe about the story. There isn’t much that you already do not know about the evil. There isn’t much that is happening by way of women’s safety. However, there is much that we all can do, as individuals and as a society.

Let us take the small first step, FIGHT BACK.

***


Sunday 12 August 2018

MY JOURNEY INTO THE WORLD OF WRITING-XVI

Is a village a unique entity?

Is it a geographical unit, or is it just a notional entity?

Does it have a soul of its own?

Does it represent the collective souls of its inhabitants?

***

TheVillage was my first experiment in the supernatural genre.

The story narrates the unusual experience of a husband and wife who take shelter in a rural guesthouse on a storm-hit night when their car breaks down on a highway.

To tell you the truth, when I started, I just had a vague and hazy idea of what I wanted to convey, no concrete or definite storyline. As I cogitated on the idea for quite some time, I found threads of the storyline, which developed into a well-defined narrative with characters, scenes, backdrops, and the final climax to the suspense. I took great care not to reveal even hints of the end, revealing the suspense at the very end of the story. It was well received and I was happy that I handled the new genre well.

The main aspects of this genre that I realised were creating a plausible ambience to the story, the essence of the suspense and maintaining it till the very end (or the most appropriate moment before, as is done in many cases). This bare scaffolding must be propped up with credible characters, short scenes, crisp dialogues, a fast-paced narration, effective imagery, and creating the super natural atmosphere by not saying too much at any given stage until the end.

I haven’t, deliberately, gone into details of this story since I want you to read and enjoy it.




***

Thursday 19 July 2018

SCARLETT JOHANSSON

A POOR ATTEMPT AT ACTOR SCARLETT JOHANSSON


Please do not spare me the brickbats.

Sunday 24 June 2018

MY JOURNEY INTO THE WORLD OF WRITING-XV


Let me tell you an oft-narrated iconic moral anecdote. It is the story of a child (son) gone astray in life.

One day, a fatherless boy, pampered ad nauseum by his mother, steals a bunch of spinach leaves from his neighbour’s garden and gives to his mother. Forever in penury, the mother accepts it and appreciates him. Emboldened by the appreciation, the boy plummets deeper and deeper into a life of crime and criminal activities. Ultimately, he commits a murder and ends up on the gallows. Realisation of his sins dawns on him but it is too late. As his last wish, he asks to speak to his mother. When the wish is granted, he accuses her, “Had you corrected me when I stole the spinach, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Having brought a child into this world without its permission, it becomes the responsibility of the parents and family to rear it into a good and responsible citizen, impart good and correct familial, societal, and human values. If these are not forthcoming from the parents and family, the child derives these from the peers and various other sources in the society; unfortunately, it may not always be beneficial or positive. Do we blame the child? The child is the victim!

That is the essence of my short story “WHY”, which I tried to highlight in the background of terrorism.

Irretrievably lost in terrorist activities, the youth introspects on his life and his misdeeds, asking himself “Why?”

The story does not have as many reads as I would have liked it to (till date, only 163 reads). Maybe the title is misleading or not suggestive of the topic! Maybe I ought to have given it one of the more dramatic titles “I am a terrorist”, or “Reflections of a terrorist”, but I did not, period, no whys about it.

That’s the problem with me and my writings; you’ll find no hype, no punch lines, no turning of the head three times.

Why?

Bye folks, see you at the next station of halt.

***


RACE WITH TERROR - links




PROLOGUE

He had no more than a few moments to act.

Her life depended on his reaction.

He did not hesitate.

He dived sideways like an accomplished soccer goalkeeper - arms and legs stretched fully, chest and torso to the front, and back towards her - oblivious to the danger, oblivious to the certain risk to his life and limb.

He had to protect her at any cost.

What happened next happened in seconds, literally.

He heard two sets of sounds that were so familiar to him – gunfire. They were so closely spaced that one was almost indistinguishable from the other.

First, the three shots that came from an automatic. The bullets pierced and lodged themselves in his stomach and upper abdomen while he was still airborne.

He landed heavily on the RCC dais on his right shoulder, instantly dislocating the ball-and-socket joint. The consequential pain was like the kiss of a maiden in comparison to the searing pain in the stomach.

Before falling unconscious, he heard the second set of gunfire. It was the combined rapid staccato of multiple AK-47s firing simultaneously.

He heard a whimper and a thud.

He smiled before slipping into a blissful and painless unconscious state.

***

Do not miss this edge-of-the-seat political action thriller, published by Notion Press, Chennai, who had published three other books of mine viz.  THE KIDNAP, EMBERS OF THE PYRE and MISOGYNIST INTERRUPTED. It is available in print and eBook formats on Amazon India, Amazon.com, Infibeam, Flipkart and various other online bookstores. Here are some links to the book(s).

Links for RACE WITH TERROR:





Links for ALL OF MY BOOKS:





Links for ALL OF MY eBooks







Sunday 3 June 2018

MY JOURNEY INTO THE WORLD OF WRITING – XIV


Fellow travellers, we have reached a station whose structure has not changed a bit over millennia - status of a girl/woman in our society.

Ram Mohan Roy, Jyotirao Phule came, strived, and departed.

Women’s lib – the phrase and the movement – came and went.

Women are making their presence felt outside their homes, too.

They are breaking the proverbial glass ceiling not only in the corporate world but also in other fields e.g. science, education, politics, and governments.

Does it mean that women have arrived? Have they really unshackled their personae?

The answer to one question settles the issue.

Has man whole-heartedly accepted the rise of modern woman in society? Has he ungrudgingly given her, her rightful status in society?

The answer is “No.”

What do I think? I think it will take centuries, if at all, for the male mindset to change.

Just observe the rise in the physical and verbal assaults on women the world over. The reason is, woman’s emancipation, her rise are still unacceptable to man. He is confused between what he is - a chauvinist - and what he wants to be - a liberal.

This cuts across boundaries of nations, religions, castes, and creeds and urban-rural divides.

I have a strong feeling for the topic, always had.

***

The present story, nay, a monologue, nay, a questionnaire posed to society, is narrated in the first person. Am I qualified to indulge in such an exercise? I do not know. Are my feelings and empathy not enough?

Anyhow, I wrote the story - i AM A GiRL - in December 2012 and posted on Yourstoryclub forum. I am surprised that the reader-count for this story is well over 16,000!

I come to an interesting anecdote in the form of a comment from a reader of the story. I shall keep the reader anonymous and reproduce here only the poignant feelings expressed by the reader.

“When i'm reading this i almost cried i feel your pain..
When God created you He is delighted, You are not an accident, it's not an accident that you are a girl, don't believe what lies all around you, its time for you to know the truth, and that truth is Jesus, if you think that God abandoned you no! He said in His word (I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, 'You are my servant'; I have chosen you and have not rejected you. -Isaiah 41:9) He chose you and you can do all things through Him something amazing, He is with you all the time, He is just waiting you to come to Him, you know God's feel your pain, it's hard i know, come to Him, try Jesus, He is your solution! He can heal you! Trust Him :')”

It is obvious that the reader mistook me for a girl and offered solace.

***

I had expressed an iota of doubt in the foregoing paragraphs.

“Am I qualified to indulge in such an exercise? I do not know, but why not? Are my strong feelings, my empathy not enough?”

Well, the reader’s comment answers my question, doesn’t it?

You can read the story at the following link:


Please, do read and post your comments.

See you soon at the next station.

Until then stay safe!

***



Thursday 31 May 2018

RACE WITH TERROR

The waiting is over.
Here is a sneak peek.
An excerpt from new novel RACE WITH TERROR

*******************************************************************

PROLOGUE

He had no more than a few moments to act.

Her life depended on his reaction.

He did not hesitate.

He dived sideways like an accomplished soccer goalkeeper - arms and legs stretched fully, chest and torso to the front, and back towards her - oblivious to the danger, oblivious to the certain risk to his life and limb.

He had to protect her at any cost.

What happened next happened in seconds, literally.

He heard two sets of sounds that were so familiar to him – gunfire. They were so closely spaced that one was almost indistinguishable from the other.

First, the three shots that came from an automatic. The bullets pierced and lodged themselves in his stomach and upper abdomen while he was still airborne.

He landed heavily on the RCC dais on his right shoulder, instantly dislocating the ball-and-socket joint. The consequential pain was like the kiss of a maiden in comparison to the searing pain in the stomach.

Before falling unconscious, he heard the second set of gunfire. It was the combined rapid staccato of multiple AK-47s firing simultaneously.

He heard a whimper and a thud.

He smiled before slipping into a blissful and painless unconscious state.

***