The constant headache


Giri always had a throbbing headache. He had this headache ever since he could remember.

Every day of his life was just the same as the previous day, just like the last thirty odd years of his life had been.

All Giri knew about what he did was that it was a job that needed to be done, that’s all.

In fact, most of the people in his profession were forced into it due to various reasons; some because it was a family tradition, some because they were social outcasts in that they were banished from their communities due to offences they committed, some because their caste or creed was traditionally involved in this profession. Almost none of them did their job because they liked it. Most of them did it because that was the only job they would get in a country which placed a premium on a person’s birth more than anything else.

As far as Giri was concerned, he was an orphan who was adopted as a suckling child by an old man in this profession. He didn’t know enough of the outside world or even care much about it. All he knew was that if he did his job correctly, he would be given the means to survive; food, clothes and some token money would be given to him as remuneration. As for shelter, his workplace had enough and more space to accommodate him in the nights. And the little money he earned, he would spend it on drink to numb his senses.

No day was ever significantly different for Giri. While some days would be a little lax with little or no work to be done, some days would be especially busy with lots of work. These would be the days when the outside world saw natural calamities such as famines or drought, or man-made calamities such as wars or pogroms. However, on such busy days, rather than being treated well for his services, his job would just literally pile up at the boundaries of his workplace, and Giri and his colleagues would have to do their jobs as a free service on such days.

While Giri didn’t have preferences to who partook of his services, he preferred the wealthy patrons, as they were more generous with their offerings. At times if he was lucky, he would also be given free alcohol, tasty food and other goodies along with money for his services.

It didn’t matter to him if his job involved beating up men, women or children. After all, to him, they were just corpses, empty shells, corpses in which humans once lived; they were just burning flesh, tissue and bones to him.

All he had to do was to ensure that the process of burning was uniform throughout and that no predators disrupted the process. And after the corpse was fully burnt, he had to collect the ashes, deposit them in the specified urn and hand them over to the relatives when they came back for it.

The only friends he had were a couple of dogs that lived in the burial grounds with him. His only constant ‘companion’ was alcohol which helped him numb his senses to the constant smell of burning corpses around him and alleviated the physical pain of his work. And this ‘companion’ of his ensured that he always had a headache.

All Giri knew about what he did was that it was a job that needed to be done, that’s all.

Every day of his life was just the same as the previous day, just like the last thirty odd years of his life had been.

Giri always had a throbbing headache. He had this headache ever since he could remember.


This post has been written for the WordPress Daily Prompts : 365 Writing Prompts where the idea is to publish at least one post a day based on the prompts provided.

Today’s prompt was “The bizarro world – Create a story in a bizarre backwards world.”

I have taken the liberty of publishing a short story whose first three and last three paragraphs are exactly the same. The way I see it, the life of the only protagonist in this story remains the same forwards or backwards. 

Enduring memories


The bus driver looked familiar, but she couldn’t figure out how she knew him.

And then Priya was suddenly catapulted back to her school days. The bus driver was then a peon at her school headmaster’s office.

Those combative and competitive days when every day represented an opportunity to be active, alert and upbeat in an otherwise sluggish life. After all, there was only so much excitement in a railway station master’s daughter’s life.

The bus driver didn’t quite understand why Priya smiled at him.

Little did he know that he had opened up some long lost memories in her.


This post has been written for the following prompts –

Today’s Author Write Now prompt for December 17, 2013 where the post had to include the phrase – the bus driver looked familiar, but she couldn’t figure out how she knew him

Velvet Verbosity 100 Words # 359 where the post had to include the word catapult

Three Word Wednesday 3WW CCCLVII where the post had to include the words – combative, represent, sluggish


Verses for Introspection: 2

आहारनिद्राभयमैथुनं च सामान्यमॆतत्पशुभिर्नराणां|

धर्मो हि तॆषामधिको विशेषो धर्मॆण हीनाः पशुभिः समानाः||

Aahaara-nidraa-bhaya-maithunam cha saamaanyam-ethath-pashubhir-naraanaam

Dharmo hi teshaam-adhiko vishesho dharmena heenaaha pashubhihi samaanaaha.

–      Hitopadesha, 25.


In the matter of taking food, sleeping, fear and conjugal life there is no difference between the humans and the rest of the creatures in the world. The knowledge associated with Dharma or righteousness is what makes man different and superior to other creatures. Without the wisdom acquired by righteousness he is equal to animals.

Inspired by Swami Bhoomananda TirthaJi’s talks and satsangs. 

Aerated regret

Image courtesy : Google image search
Image courtesy : Google image search

Looking down from the ‘other side’ Dr. John Pemberton thought to himself “Given a chance, I’d do things differently.

The fact that his invention Coca Cola was causing so many health hazards such as acidity, tooth decay, obesity and was found to be highly addictive due to its caffeine content was proving to be quite distressing to the good doctor.

While the fact remained that he invented the beverage as an opium-free alternative to morphine, he ended up marketing the same as a brain tonic that would cure headaches, relieve exhaustion and calm nerves, which in hindsight seemed so wrong.


This post has been written for the Write Tribe – 100 words on a Saturday prompt where the post had to include the phrase – I’d do things differently. This prompt has been provided by beautiful Aditi from Life is a journey, make it bea-you-tiful.

This post is an imagination of what Dr. Pemberton, the inventor of Coca Cola might feel if he had realized the kind of health hazards his invention has caused. While I enjoy the occasional aerate drink myself, the fact remains that in most developed countries, extremely aggressive marketing by these companies have resulted in severe health hazards from these products.

Conditions Apply

Image courtesy :
Image courtesy :

Conditions apply.

Two simple words that Ram didn’t quite realize the significance of until 3 months into his idyllic marriage when he cracked his first stupid joke about his in-laws and didn’t get any food or water for two whole days.

That incident clearly defined the boundaries where his stupid jokes had to stop.


This post has been written for the Write Tribe – 55 on Friday 2 prompt where the post had to include the term – conditions apply

55 on Friday #WriteTribe

Poisonous Morons


Stepping up his election rhetoric, Mohan Narayanan (MoNa), was always curious to know what primary rival in the elections, Ganesh Rajan (GaRa) was going to talk about in his next election speech. In fact the election campaigning by both the parties, its supporters and both these leaders had reached historic lows, so much so that they were picking on individual words such as ‘poison’ used by each other in different contexts and twisted them completely out of proportion.

For example, MoNa’s supporters claimed that the free medicines that were being distributed by GaRa’s ruling party were nothing short of ‘poison’ given that some of them did not even have expiry dates printed on them. Taking severe objection to this, GaRa’s party not only filed a complaint for defamatory statements against the election commission, but also started mentioning instances of ‘poisonous’ behavior by MoNa’s party when they were in power a good 9 yrs ago. All this dilly-dallying led to the inevitable war of words where both parties used every possible election rally venue and speech to deliver vitriolic speeches against each other.

While the electorate and the media had pointed out on numerous occasions to both these candidates and their parties that everybody including the electorate would be better off by having individual candidates and political parties presenting their manifestos to the people, and highlighting their plans in case they were elected, it seemed that this election season, negative campaigning was the flavor and was here to stay.

In fact, the noise from the speeches had reached such a crescendo that both candidates were now wary of actually being poisoned, quite literally by the enemy camp.


This post has been written for the Three Word Wednesday prompt where the post had to include the words, curious, inevitable and wary which is why they have been specifically highlighted in the post.

This is only my third attempt at political satire and has been encouraged by the kind words and comments to my earlier two posts in this series – Clash of the morons [Link to post] and Moronic pinnacles [Link to post]