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Showing posts from November, 2010

A Ray of Sunshine

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The first thing that I notice about Anna Smita Thomas Eapen is her smile that flashes like a ray of sunshine, making me feel as though I have known her forever. Her liveliness stems from the fact that she has travelled a lot, both within India and without. Her father initially worked at BHEL, Hyderabad from where he shifted to Delhi, where Anna attended the Jesus and Mary Convent from the fifth to the twelfth standard. Twenty years ago, her father turned to her and said, “Annamma, you must write!” Considering that she had travelled to places as varied as Thailand, England, America and even the Ivory Coast, [where she recalled watching the French troops marching in all their glory], Anna had wonderful memories and much she could have written about. It was in Thailand that her father-in-law took her aside and repeated the advice, “Smita, you must write!” This was to form a kind of refrain in her life, as years later, when she joined a prayer group, her pastor’s mother, a feisty lady who

The Bewitched Hour of Twilight!

He was a bachelor, bespectacled, with a round face that gave him the semblance of a little owl. He devoured the newspaper to compensate for the loneliness that had engulfed him after his retirement. He enjoyed the robberies and the murders, but the rape cases disgusted his near-Victorian sensibilities. The obituaries prompted him to piece together a gruesome patchwork of dead persons. Thus, many an hour went by! It was the bewitched hour of twilight. Dark shadows lurked as dogs howled. He checked his doors and windows. "No point in being sorry after the event!" he mused, as the trees whispered softly and a branch scratched on his window. Rap, rap! That was no branch! The rapping came again. It was a knock on his front door, followed by a frantic pounding. He made his way to the door and peered through the keyhole. A young girl stood outside, clothes in disarray, large doe eyes filled with panic. "Let me in, please...!" Her voice reached him faintly. "They are a

Why place a hooch victim above a martyr?

Who can forget the precious lives snatched away in the heinous 26/11 Mumbai attacks? Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan, the army commando who died, saving many lives, etched his name in the annals of history. The terrorists were killed, all except Kasab, who made the mistake of being caught alive. Today in jail, he lives in celebrity comfort, with much money being spent to keep him alive. The pampering has made him arrogant, as he spurns questions in court, behaving like a brat. He couldn’t be safer elsewhere in the world, as attempts continue to keep him alive till he is sentenced to death! Mark Antony remarked, “The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with the bones!” Sandeep Unnikrishnan became a national hero after martyrdom. The sight of the bereaved mother leaning against her son’s body, weeping pitifully, still plays on people’s minds. His father came across as a strong man, stoically keeping his composure in public. A war of words with a public figure created h