" ('To the ones we won and the ones we lost - Salud!')- my entry to the GetPublished contest’’

Hazy memory, but a picture he remembers vividly.The front bencher's were staring back. Besides him on both sides were the pretty girls that were the reason for their" full expression" stares. And his darling was sitting right next to him. Of course at that time he didn't know she was his darling. Neither did she.After all he was also the darling of the rest of the ladies in Class 2nd B.

The kids at his apartment block were a tight bunch. Leaderless but happy, playing the usual ; cops and robbers and impressing girls on new BMX bicycles.12 yr old kids without a care. She was from Sri Lanka. At that age he didn't know where Sri Lanka was.But he knew she was pretty and their eyes met, always. A different kid of a meet...

The sermon was long. He was waiting for that instance.All the rest noised out by the anticipation.That was the reason he caught a seat in the front pew leaving his dad pretty surprised.Finally the moment came.Where everyone steps out to take their share of the holy bread. The line formed to the altar.And there she was.An angel for whom he would even suffer this catechism class.And then, there he could write poetry...

Her head rested on his shoulders.The train was full. He was tired.But the trip was worth it.His eyes closed for a second. And memories floated around in his head.She was the best thing that ever happened to him.He never knew an engineering college would throw up this surprise.The first day the professor called out the attendance sheet there was pause when he heard the name.And when he turned around to search for where the sound of "Yes Sir" came from, their eyes met and he knew a story had started...

The cycle was an old one.Hero Atlas.The ubiquitous old timer.It was the only one he had.Uncle was kind enough to provide him that.No complaints.It was serving its purpose.She had a new BSA SLR.And she passes by his gate at exactly 3:00 pm.It was a wait. The time was only 11:00 am.But it was worth it. A chance to ride together.A chance to feel love rushing at you as you ride the roads , a rush like the sweet wind from the paddy fields...

...............

Sad stories.Happy stories.Stories of Love.Life.
He too was a lover boy in his own right with memories to call his own.As an unknown feeling way back in the 2nd standard, the return of the same unknown feeling as a 12 yr old, to a gradual realization and acceptance of the feeling throughout adolescence, adulthood and for the gold nugget at the end of the rainbow.These are his stories and this is his tribute.

Every story to the ones we won and the ones we lost. Salud!!

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs fromYashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

The Hypocrite

I didn't see him at first,the lights too bright.My eyes tried to focus upon the man by the side of the road.The incoming sea continued on past me, a never ending flow of dark lifeless shapes.

He was dragging himself along the road looking helplessly at the wave after wave of people and machines. Everyone walked past him.A cripple far below their world and eye.

"Do you want to cross the road my friend", i enquired. He looked up at me with listless eyes and nodded.

My raised hands did little to stop the flow.I looked down at the helpless eyes of an unfortunate victim of circumstance.I decided to take the plunge and warily waded onto the sea trying to break through the flood.The sudden explosion of noise was deafening.A million high pitched horns cried in unison and just as suddenly stopped. The sight of the man on a rickety board dragging himself behind me silenced the noise.

Safe on the other side, the sea resumed its never ending course."Thank You", he said. I smiled, acknowledged, nodded understandingly and walked onward, my good deed for the day done.The smile stayed on my face till i turned the key to my apartment and switched on the television.

I am the hypocrite.

It was the persistent smile that did me away.It betrayed an overfed ego and a choreographed sense of humanity.It reeked of instinctive falsehood and the rabid need for self gratification.

I pity myself for i am lost.We, are all lost.For today, we feed on ourselves.