Abhishek's Musings

  THE UNVEILING OF THE DARK DIGITAL SHADOWS   In a tech-driven world where connectivity is paramount, a dark reality lurks beneath the surface, which we as a society conveniently sweep beneath the carpet. The growing cases of sexual abuse of children and the rampant surge in online bullying in a city like New Delhi is the scourge that we should fight against now. It demands our urgent action. As a journalist of an esteemed organisation, I must shed light on these urgent issues that can no longer be put on the back burner. It is looting our youngsters of their innocence and peace of mind.   The internet, with all its advantages, has now become a fertile ground for lurking predators out to exploit vulnerable children. With the anonymity afforded by online platforms, these perpetrators lurk in the shadows, preying on helpless, gullible minors through social media, online gaming and other modern digital spaces. They indulge in abuse, coercion, blackmail and torture of young children, leavi

  THE INTERROGATION “Well, My Oh My, look who’s on the other side of the battlefield now. Twenty-odd years ago, you had left me for dead on the battlefield. Now, how does it feel when the tables are turned?”   “I don’t have any feelings. I execute orders according to my programming.”   “You know, I don’t know what to tell you. All these twenty years, I am forced to relive the pain you inflicted on me. And I force myself to forgive you over and over again every single day. I am treated like a convict and face many injustices and problems because of the sorry state you left my health in. It’s been a long ordeal, and I live through it daily. But you wouldn’t know anything about it, would you? You have no feelings when you execute orders. Please tell me what I should do with you now. Would you like a sample of the pain you have caused me?”   “I have no remorse. Like I told you, I do not feel anything. I carry out the tasks assigned to me. My task then was to eliminate you. I don’t know how

  THE BATTLE Many moons ago, a raging war waged all around me. I was appalled at the plight of my community as human-like robots attacked us with all their might, cornered us, and pushed us like never before in all the history of our existence. We did our best to face the metallic adversaries of the modern age as they tried to exert their dominance.   In the heat of the battle, suddenly, I am face to face with a robot that is a mirror image of me. It even walks and looks like me to the extent that it even sports glasses like mine. It is similarly built to me but is a lot more-fairer. It sends a chill down my spine just looking at the uncanny resemblance, characteristics and mannerisms. It was shouting out orders to the other robots on the battlefield. It was apparent that it was a leader of some sort. At that moment, an extreme sense of uneasiness washes over me as the lines between friends and foes blur before my eyes. I watch helplessly as the robots attack my community with mechanic

  THE SQUABBLE (SCENE: A noisy pub in Connaught Place, New Delhi. Two characters, Ria and Rani, sit facing each other, their face built up with tension)   RIA (with a frustrated sigh): I can’t believe that the last piece of cake, the sweet reward I fought so hard for, is not coming to me.   RANI (defiantly, her eyes flashing): You could have got whatever you wanted, Ria. But ask yourself honestly, have you been a good girl? Is your conscience clear? I can’t believe you still think that the last piece of cake, the symbol of your selfishness, is coming to you.   RIA (defiantly): Come on! What do you know about it?   RANI: The world has witnessed your behaviour, and even if you are deluded, no one notices it. Many people are in the know, even if you don’t think so.   RIA: Maybe if you had listened to my side of the story, you wouldn’t have thought so.   RANI: Maybe, but nothing on earth can justify your behaviour. No decent, sane and civilised society would tolerate what you have exhibite

  FIGURATIVE EXPRESSIONS OF LOVE   LOVE IS A GARDEN:  with different flowers blooming in it. Just like flowers need tender tending, so does love. If nurtured well, it grows into something extraordinary. But they are easy to grow, enhance the beauty, and spread a radiant fragrance. Love changes our outlook towards life.    LOVE IS A JOURNEY:  We travel great distances and collect memories. Sometimes, the destination is still being determined. We don’t know what we might discover on its winding roads. It is unpredictable with its twists and turns. But we travel towards our destination together, counting, relying and supporting each other.   LOVE IS A SONG  that is special to our hearts. We can listen to it over and over again. It best expresses our emotions, and we never get bored of it. It has a rhythm and a beat and lightens our burdens and steps.   LOVE IS A DANCE:  as it allows us to express ourselves. It provides laughter, fun and relaxation. Different types of dances define the var

  THE GUITARIST As I sit in bed, lost in the music playing in my head, I’m surrounded by posters of my favourite rock stars as they stare down at me from the walls of my bedroom. I bend the strings of my dreadnought acoustic  guitar, which is in standard parlour size, my white-coloured instrument to the  tunes of “Comfortably Numb”. The Pink Floyd number is coming alive in  my bedroom. The sensation of the fingers pressing down on the strings is mindblowing.       As I head over to the recording booth, I have my headphones on and I  I am deeply engrossed in playing the cover of “November Rain”, the eternal Guns N Roses's song evokes childhood memories. The excellent computer and handful of decent mics make a good fidelity recording. The sound engineers join me in the jam sessions, which take me back to the days when GNR ruled the  roost. The feedback from the guitar body in my hands was encouraging.       After the recording session at the studio, I head out to the Starbucks coffee

  THE DUES “Hi, Mr Singh. I’ve been trying to call you for several weeks, but you don’t answer my calls. What’s the problem?” “Well, I…” “I’ve tried messaging you several times…” “I know.” “You know, Mr Singh, as part of the agreement you made me sign, you were supposed to have paid my outstanding dues a long time ago.” “I’ll look into it.” “You’re not honouring your commitment. What was the purpose of signing that darned document?” “Well, I’ll talk to the buyer. I can bring him on a conference call. You can ask him about your payments.” “Well, I’m sick and tired of your dilly-dallying tactics and your buyer. I need the balance amount, period.” “You’ll get your payments soon.” “But then, Mr Singh? When? That’s the question I’m asking you repeatedly. Right now, I need money. Most of my projects are stalled because of a lack of funds. Moreover, I’m answerable to several people. They are relying on me. What do I tell them?” “Your payments are delayed because the buyer was ill.” “I have al

  THE PAIR OF SKECHERS Mason found himself in a public restroom at the bustling Connaught Place in New Delhi, the city's din replaced by the echo of running water and the scent of soap. As he washed his hands, he was unexpectedly drawn to something unusual. He could see a pair of feet under one of the closed stall doors. But it wasn't just the feet that caught his eye; the sneakers they were wearing, their vibrant colours against the dull restroom floor, sparked his curiosity.   From a distance, the sneakers could be mistaken for a Nike, Adidas, Puma, or Reebok design, thanks to their comfortable and sporty look. However, as Mason approached, he noticed the unique design elements that set them apart. These sneakers were not just a fashion statement for a young, hip personality but a symbol of individuality. They provided comfort, style, and a cultural identity, all in one package.  Intrigued, Mason decided to examine the sneakers from a closer range.   Afraid to make a noise, M

  THE SHIMLA SNAPSHOT As I was lounging around the house this weekend, a photo taken a few years ago caught my eye. The picture was taken by a professional photographer, who captured the image of my family amidst a picturesque backdrop at the Ridge, the heart of Shimla, while on a trip there.   In the picture, my younger brother is sporting a red and black Levis T-shirt, dark jeans and yellow Converse shoes. His bearded face is shining in the light. On his left is my mom, dressed in a printed suit and hanging dupatta. I am standing next to her on her left. I wear a red check shirt, black jeans and dark shoes. I am sporting aviator sunglasses and have my young baby boy in my arms. My little boy is dressed in a cardigan and is wearing a white cap. He looks bemused and is staring right at the camera. Next to me is my wife, dressed in a black kurta and white slacks. She, too, is wearing oversized framed sunglasses. All of us are standing in a line and posing for the camera. We look happy t

  THE JIGSAW PUZZLE James, the quiet one, was an introvert with unique qualities. He had good intuition, was sensitive to others' emotions, and was analytical and artistic. As an introvert, he often sought solace in pursuits that would occupy and relax his mind. Following the aristocratic tradition, his parents gifted him a box of magical jigsaw puzzles from the States. They hoped this puzzle would keep him engaged creatively and foster patience, concentration, and problem-solving skills.   One fine day, James opened his magical jigsaw puzzle box. He gathered all the wooden pieces on the floor of his room and shut out all distractions. He began arranging the pieces into some formation. Nothing was apparent initially, but James persisted, his anticipation and excitement growing. He decided to put all his creativity and logical reasoning to good use. And soon, slowly but surely, some form of pattern was emerging, a mystery waiting to be solved.   After working on it for an hour or so

  THE SHOWSTOPPER The “Best of The Show” winner “Miss T” was the proverbial beauty with brains. She was an astute lady with intelligence and poise personified. Her raven hair was neatly combed and curled up in a bun. Sometimes, it tumbled over her shoulders. And when she smiled that perfect smile with her pearly white teeth, it lit up the room. Her brown, smoky eyes were alluring.    The ease with which she moved suggested she was well-versed in some aerobic dance movements. She moved with the grace of a model with a practised perfect ramp walk. She was always dressed in fashionable clothes of the day, and if she walked into a room, it was hard to ignore her. She had a dainty powdered nose and pouting, inviting lips. Her slender, pencil-thin eyebrows added character to her face. God must have carved out her features with great care.    When she opened her mouth and spoke, it was evident that she had a sweet voice. She exhibited a keen sense of aesthetics, signifying a keen interest in

  THE SHOW The Galaxions are a special class of aliens inhabiting the solar system. They lead an extravagant, rich and luxurious lifestyle and are known to have strange quirks and hobbies. One of their fetishes is keeping humans as pets. Many exotic specimens of humans are bought and shipped from earth to the planet of the Galaxions. They are kept as companions or for the sake of entertainment of the Galaxions.   One full moon day on the planet of the Galaxions, it was decided to have a “human show”. This is equivalent to what we know as a dog show on Earth. Many Galaxions registered their pets for the show. As humans don’t work for free, the Galaxions very cleverly used the lure of the opposite sex to motivate them into the ring. The first criterion for the show was that only purebred humans would be allowed to compete. The show was also open to mixed-bred humans. They would be judged on their physical perfection and attributes like agility, endurance, intelligence, obedience, loyalty

  THE CANDY WORLD It's lunchtime on a fabulous, wintry day in New Delhi. Sean makes his way out for lunch at his school, Riverdale High. Suddenly, he is jolted by an extensive bus screeching to a halt outside the school gate. Sean couldn’t help but notice that the bus had no driver and was bright red.  It had the logo of a pack of candies painted in the centre. Sean watched, perplexed, as Archie, a student in his class, hopped onto the bus, and the bus drove off. Curious with excitement, Sean bumps into their teacher, Mrs Kamla, and tells her about this strange incident. But to his surprise, she mysteriously tells him, “Tell No One! “.   Sean had always been the curious one. He puts his detective hat on and decides to investigate. He flags down a rickshaw outside his school and asks the driver to go in the direction the bus had taken off. Luckily for him, after riding for a short distance, he finds the bright red bus refuelling at a gas station. Before he could get down, the bus re

  LOVE IS ALL AROUND When pressed for a definition and image of love, I racked my brains the best I could to express feelings from deep within and say what it meant to me.   To summarise, love for me still seems to be the fragrance of cedar, cherry, pine, morning after-shave musk, and the Yves Saint Lauren: Opium French perfume, all mixed in a heavenly alchemic potion.   During the afternoon, I visited a swanky restaurant, and it occurred to me that love for me was the lip-smacking taste of prawn pie and the appetising batter of fried fish with cheese sauce.   As I tuned on the radio, love for me suddenly seemed the melodious, enchanting and captivating voices of Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes belting out that foot-tapping duet “Senorita” on the airwaves.    Relaxed, I realised love is exhilarating and energetic, ready to take on the world. As my footsteps turned towards home, love suddenly felt like a lump in the throat that came from being unable to express affection for those I hol

  THIS IS AKASHVANI Akashvani  Bhavan is on Parliament Street, New Delhi. The nearest metro station is Patel Chowk, opposite the RBI and NITI Aayog buildings. The old building of Akashvani still stands and retains the aura of a bygone era, though a new broadcasting house has come up just behind the old structure.   Let's delve into the rich history of Akashvani. The journey of this broadcasting service began in India on 1st April 1930, initially as an experimental venture for two years. It then solidified its place in history, gaining permanent status in May 1932. Renamed All India Radio on 8th June 1936, the term' Akashvani' was first coined by the legendary poet Rabindranath Tagore in 1934. The poet Pandit Narendra Sharma's suggestion to change the name to Akashvani was implemented in 1957. Akashvani, meaning' Celestial announcement' or' Voice from the Sky', proudly upholds its motto: ' Bahujan Hitaya: Bahujan Sukhaya’.   Today, Akashvani stands ta

  THE REUNION “Hey! Pooja. Is that you? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” “Yes, Scott. It’s been a long time… twenty years, to be precise. But I’d know and recognise you anywhere, no matter the time and distance between us.” “You have turned out to be a beautiful lady”. “You look wiser with the glasses and much more muscular than your boyish avatar.”  “So, Pooja, how have you been?” “Well, Scott, I’m fine. Mostly, my work keeps me busy. What about you?” “Same here. By the way, do you remember our prom dance some 20-odd years ago in middle school?” “How could I forget that. The memory of that dance keeps me going. It seems just like yesterday”. “Yeah! You were the best dance partner I had back then.” “You know, Scott, since that day, I have often wondered what it would have been like if we never parted.” “True. You were the first person to make me feel that way. I have also often wondered along the same lines, too.” “Yes, Scott. My heart raced when you asked me to go to that prom in th