~World Of The Future: Life in 2358~

Ravi was suddenly wide awake. His alarm enabled bed had toppled over as soon as the clock struck 6:00 AM. He was thrown violently on the floor and found himself being targeted by the water hose, yet another device that ensured he got up in time for school. His mother’s patience had finally run out and she had ordered this contraption to make her son get up on time. Like all mothers, she was concerned about 14-year old Ravi’s grades, education and future. “This is the 24th century”, she would begin, 

“There is a lot of competition and you need to be the best to succeed. Do you not wish to afford one of those huge houses on that new planet they have discovered? Do you not wish that you could one day book a NASA flight to Pluto, like the Mehtas next door? Let your wife and children decide whether Pluto is a moon or planet, while you play golf on its silky smooth surface.”

Ravi would have to listen to this speech almost everyday. His robotic teacher, Robot Robert 3.0, had categorized him to be a “B” grade student. This meant that he got extra tutoring hours, more homework & more assignments as compared to his neighbour, Arvind Mehta, who was an” A+” grade student. Robot Robert 3.0 had apparently spotted more of a spark in Arvind’s brain with his brain scanning UV- enabled eyes. Ravi sighed deeply and went into the bathroom.

The constant nagging of his mother simply infuriated him. He knew he wasn’t as stupid as the robot teacher made him out to be:- he had somehow managed to modify the dishwasher to be a tooth brusher as well. This saved him a crucial five minutes every morning, just enough to propel his flying car-cubicle into the schoolship before it locked its gates. Just before leaving for school, he swallowed his vitamin pill which ensured that he got his balanced diet of carbs, proteins, calcium, vitamins etc. for the day. Cooked food was passé and eaten only to please the taste buds.

Schools had been replaced by schoolships in 2255, when the government decided that the robot teacher to student ratio should be 1:1. This was done to “personalize, synchronize & customize” the education process. However, in truth, it was being described as a system which turned the children into gloomy, drab social misfits of adults. After all, Robot Robert 1.0 & 2.0 had only been able to cultivate the minds of students like how a machine implants intelligence into a computer chip. All the educated lot looked like standard factory products. But Robot Robert 3.0, the latest evolution of the robot teacher series, was vastly improved & guess what- it even had a sense of humour! Although, Ravi didn’t mind school, he missed having other students in his class.

While cruising in his Mercedes Z-Class flying car-cubicle, he had to ensure that he was flying 300 feet over sea level, below which the air was largely polluted. This was largely due to the reckless behaviour of his ancestors in the 20th & 21st century. Home windows below the 25th floor could not be opened due to the toxicity of the air outside. The air at ground level was acrid, pungent, and a deep, misty, pathetic grey. Playing sports like cricket on a normal outfield and football on lush green grass was no longer possible anywhere on the planet. But as they say, necessity is the mother of invention. All major sporting events now took place on Mars. Everything remained the same- except one thing ofcourse: no team enjoyed “home advantage.”

Ravi could not fathom how the Earth had accommodated 8 billion people at one point in time. Earth population reduction had been an important aim for all:- scientists, governments as well as the common man. Due to tremendous scientific progress, more than 5 billion people now resided in space or in little colonies on Mars. Life was more comfortable, peaceful & luxurious.

But in this mechanical world of lightning fast scientific progress, there was an understated tinge of sadness, a tinge of melancholy which was unexplained. This world of the future was unnatural, the results of man’s attempts at playing God and creating a world. Defying the laws of nature, man had taken everything into his hands.

 Now, there was little to differentiate man from his creations of technology: the robots which controlled everything from the climate on Mars to the car-cubicles people traveled in. Man was edging closer and closer to disaster. But what would ultimately finish him off? Pollutants? Revolts from (suddenly independent thinking) robots? A stray meteorite? Or just plain old war? Man had always been a lover of destruction. But now he might just get a dose of his own medicine.

~* What I Don't Want To Do When I Grow Up *~

Deciding one’s profession is perhaps the most important decision youth have to make. As soon as you are out of school as an adolescent, everyone begins to ask to that one question: “So, what career do you want to pursue?” You are expected to know the answer well before you are eighteen years old. Well meaning uncles advise you to assist your father in the family business, your own father wants you to become the best software engineer there is and join Bill Gates at Microsoft. Your mother, who has seen you grow up in front of her eyes, wants you to pursue painting, which is very close to your heart. But there is one field which is absolutely no one recommends: politics.

And with very good reason. Yes, I do not want to be a politician once I grow up. Politics nowadays is a field littered with scavengers, vultures who want their share of the pie before the Motherland can have hers. The people themselves have lost faith in the system of governance, with our democracy being labelled as a joke. Yes, we are considered to be the world’s biggest democracy with the maximum number of voters. But then Muslim leaders target the Islamic population and Hindu fanatic leaders are no less, embarking on a campaign of Hindutva. Local parties want to oust all the North Indian population from Mumbai, claiming they take away the local’s right to employment and space of dwelling. When the country’s own leaders want to divide the masses on grounds of religion, faith, caste, greed, race or belief, you can understand that the state of governance in the country is poor. The country’s political system is at war with itself, almost choking on the level of bureaucracy and red tapism that exists.

Politics in our country has been reduced to nothing more than a blame game. The Parliament has begun to resemble a crowded fish market, with no one listening to the other person. Thus, in such a condition it is not advisable to take up politics. You will lose all that is close to you, your morals, your conscience and your values. The system will not allow you to survive otherwise.

To be the proverbial lotus in the dirty lake will be increasingly difficult in times to come. I do not want to be a corrupt politician leading my country to certain doom. I want to help from the outside, without involving myself in the faltered system which could not prevent the terror attacks in November despite being warned. There is now certain anger in the masses towards the governments it needs to be channelised in a positive way.

More politics, back biting, bureaucracy and blaming is not the answer. It is time we ourselves from organizations to solve the country’s problems and help the poor and needy. Taking active interest in the well being of society is a fundamental duty of every citizen. If we educate ourselves and others effectively about this, I am sure India can rise and shine. India will once again be the golden songbird of the world. I will forever be devoted to the service of my country. As I say in my pledge to the country daily: - “To my country and my people, I pledge my devotion. In their well-being and prosperity, alone lies my happiness 

*~ Stadium Ka Maja Sirf Stadium Mein Hai ~*

Yet another encounter in the cash rich cricket league called the IPL was about to get underway. The Mumbai Indians were taking on the Royal Challengers Bangalore at the swanky new Wankhede stadium. The match was due to start in an hour’s time and Pankaj was still stuck in a long serpentine queue leading up to the gates.

“I hope we don’t miss the toss,” a flustered Pankaj grumbled to one of his friends. “Relax dude! Aaram se pahunch jaayenge,” his friend Karan tried to assuagethe fears of their group.

“We’d better bro. I want to see Pollard & Gayle..” Pankaj’s voice trailed off as his breath caught in his throat. A flash of red had caught his attention. More specifically, a female beauty wearing the RCB colours had drawn his attention.

She stood from her friends and Pankaj’s heart skipped a beat as well as beat faster at the sight of her. He couldn’t help but stare at the tall ethereal beauty. Suddenly, the match wasn’t what was occupying his mind space.

When they entered the stadium, Pankaj was elated to know that ther beautiful starnger’s group was seated in the row right in front of them.

“Mumbai aaj jeetegi yaar. Akela Gayle kya kar lega,” said a fired up Karan as they took their seats. An angry voice in front of them retorted,” Excuse me guys! RCB is going to nail it tonight. MY Virat Kohli will kill the blue brigade.”

Pankaj’s heart began its abnormalities again. For it was the same gorgeous angel who had admonished his friend. He also felt a deep pang of envy towards Virat Kohli, the foul mouthed heartthrob of millions of girls in India.

He managed a smile and shot back, “We shall see about that. Don’t forget that the God of Cricket is on our side. YOUR Virat Kohli is nothing but a thumb sucking kid in comparisionto the Master Blaster. “

Her perfectly featured face blushed a deep red as she realised how evident her possessiveness of Kohli was. Quickly regaining her feistiness she remarked,” Dude! That’s so not happening! I’m telling you...” Her voice trailed off as she realised we were distracted. The cheerleaders had stepped onto the field!

“Quit ogling you hopeless guys! I’ll tell you what – I’m even willing to place a wager. 500 bucks says RCB wins tonight.”

"No, I’m not interested in something like that,” Pankaj remarked. Drawing up his courage he said,” Losers treat for dinner. Let’s make it interesting.” His friends gape in awe. The usually reticent Pankaj was turning on the charm for the pretty lady.

“Very well then. Have it your way. Just be prepared to dish out the dough,” came the prompt reply.

Pankaj couldnt help but grin. No matter what happened in the game, he was going to have dinner with a very pretty lady. “Listen, give me your name & number. How do I know you’re not going to run away after the mauling?” Pankaj said.

A bemused smile curled up on the girl’s face. This was crunch time. Knowing her contact details was an absolute must for our Pankaj. She said,”I am Pallavi. Here’s my number.” Pankaj somehow managed to get his wobbly fingers to save the number. This was going much better than he could have ever imagined.

38 overs of intense action later, the equation boiled down to this: RCB needed 19 runs off 12 balls. Virat Kohli was batting like a man possessed, already notching up a fine 70 not out. However, his team mates had failed to rally around him & RCB had already lost 7 wickets in the thrilling chase.

Lasith Malinga ran in to bowl the 19th over. A well set Virat Kohli anticipated the short ball and pulled it away for 4. Pallavi & her friends high fived each other. 15 needed off 11.

During the match, Pankaj managed to learn a few things about Pallavi. She was an independent woman who had built a start up IT firm in Bangalore after quitting her job. He liked what he saw even more.

Malinga ran in to bowl the next delivery. Again, the gifted Kohli outfoxed the bowler and dispatched the ball for four more. 11 needed off 10 as the boisterous Mumbai crowd was stunned into silence.

The next delivery was a well disguised slower ball and Kohli could only hit it for a single. 10 runs off 9 balls. 30,000 pairs of eyes stared intently at Malinga as he ran in to bowl to the tail ender. His trademark delivery, the swinging Yorker, landed perfectly and uprooted the leg stump.

 Pankaj leapt up and let out a war cry as a stunned Pallavi held her head in her hands. The next delivery was an exact action replay. Another tail ender had his stumps shattered by a Malinga toe crusher. The equation was now tantalizingly delicious. The hat trick ball was safely defended by the batsman, which left RCB with 10 to get off the last over.

Virat Kohli took guard against Johnson. He knew it was all up to him. He needed to hit the next 10 runs. Not too far away, Pallavi looked on, a silent prayer on her lips.

Pankaj was wondering where to look: the action on the field or the gamut of emotions playing out on Pallavi’s impeccable features. Johnson began well – no runs were conceded in the first two balls. 10 off 4 needed. Pallavi & her group were now yelling themselves hoarse with the cries of “Kohl! Kohli! ” Finally, the booming sound of leather on willow could be heard as a brilliant square cut yielded 4 runs. 6 needed off 3.

“Why didn’t Johnson look to bowl a Yorker?” a worried Karan yelled out. Pankaj was too nervous to make any observations on strategy.

Johnson ran in to bowl the next ball. Some of the confident swagger had returned to Kohli’s stance. It was evident that he backed himself to finish the job. Kohli connected with his lofted shot straight over the bowlers head. It hurtled towards our stand for a huge six! Pallavi stuck her hand out and caught the flying ball and the small RCB contingent in the stadium broke out in a victory dance. A beaming Pallavi kissed the ball and pocketed the little piece of cricketing history.

After an amazing but expensive dinner, it was time to say goodbye. “Told you to not doubt Kohli,” said a beaming Pallavi, “He is a star yaar.”

“Yes. That he is. Perhaps we should celebrate the win alone. “ a hopeful Pankaj asked.

Pallavi’s eyebrows shot up & she flashed Pankaj a brilliant dimpled smile. “Thought you’d never ask shy boy. Let’s go.”

Pankaj was delighted. Lalit Modi was right. Stadium ka maja stadium mein hai.

*~ The Act of the Devil*~

Sid stood waiting at the bus stop late at night after completing his overtime at work. It was raining profusely and bus service was understandably affected. He cast his eyes on the rain pouring down from the heavens and into the overflowing puddles on the road. He imagined children splashing, thrashing and frolicking in the monsoon downpour. He sighed deeply and forced himself to think of other things. But alas! The human mind is programmed to think the thoughts which the individual wants to eliminate from his consciousness. It was no wonder then that Sid was thinking of children. After all, today was the 28th of June, a date which Sid would always remember as “that date.” 

His bus arrived and he got into it. The conductor had to literally yell in Sid’s face to bring his attention to the fact that the bus fare had to be paid. He paid it distractedly and sank back into his seat, forgetting to collect the change from the conductor. 

In his mind’s eye, the events of two years ago were unfolding before him. He remembered the call he had received from Urvashi that fateful evening. Her worried tone instantly told him something was amiss. She was his girlfriend of almost three years, and they had even been thinking of tying the knot once her fashion designing commitments abroad were done. Yup, she was one of those superwomen of the 21st century who considered her career as her top priority. She had tasted much deserved success and would be traveling to and fro from Europe to meet other fashion designers there and design clothes for a reputed MNC brand. Sid was extremely proud of her. 

Her frightened tone over the phone made him anxious as he knew it would take something really big to unsettle a tough cookie like Urvashi. Little did he know at that point that all his beliefs, faith and indeed- his entire value system- would be thrown out the window. 

Urvashi went on to disclose the source of her worry: she had discovered a few days earlier that she was pregnant. Of course, no one knew of it yet but there would be hell to pay once her parents caught wind of it. Then, just like that, she told him of her decision to abort the child as it would complicate life and would render all her hard work in vain. What with the MNC contract and all that. 

Sid could not believe his ears. He told her they could sort things out, make everything alright and have a happy family. Abortion amounted to murder for him; it was a sinful pact with devil. Taking the life of an innocent who had not yet opened his eyes to the world went against his values. Tears were shed, arguments were fought and harsh words were exchanged. The result: Urvashi remained adamant and went through with the “medical termination of pregnancy”. Sid and Urvashi never spoke again.

But today, exactly two years after that horrific phone call, Sid was lost in his thoughts. His mind played harrowing tricks on him; painfully forcing him to think of the ifs and buts. He thought of his baby; how his features would have been; how he would have cried and how he would have been pacified with his favourite toys. How his little child could have blessed his world and help him rediscover and relearn the joys of the world through his eyes. But then the melancholy of the facts hit him hard: those features of his chld would never be formed, those toys would never be bought and those eyes would never open to make sense of the world. God’s most beautiful gift had been discarded like an unwanted accessory. His entire being cringes at the violence of the events. Sid’s regret knew no bounds. Afterall, he knew there was no forgiving the Act of The Devil. 

~*The Joy Of Life*~

It is the darkest & eeriest part of the night. Incessant rainfall, coupled with stormy winds, lashed at the windows.  He paced around the waiting area in the hospital, hoping against hope that everything would turn out alright. Like all people with loved ones in the hospital wards,  he was a touch nervous and a tad apprehensive. Hospitals are the breeding grounds for such emotions.

Nobody can ever understand what the people waiting outside the hospital rooms go through. Words are simply not enough. Just as he was beginning to wonder about his wife inside the room, a nurse emerged and came up to him, her face the very embodiment of stoicism. “She’s alright Mr. Rishi”, the nurse said, “congratulations you have just become the father of an adorable pair of twins !!” The boy , girl and mother are perfectly healthy, recuperating as we speak.”

The tiny neurons carrying emotion gushed through his body as he took this all in. He was quick to thank the Almighty for his blessings on the family. He brushed happy tears from his eyes. A goofy grin lit up his face. His feet were dancing to a tune of their own.

As he entered the ward for the first time, he looked at the little bundles of joy and let out an amazed gasp. His children were an extension, a continuation of himself.  He soon realised that this was the dawn of a fresh morning in his life.  Rishi knew that from this moment on he would be seeing the world through his children’s eyes.

He wondered what kind of a father he would turn out to be. The magnitude of the responsibilities was not lost on him. He was responsible for nurturing two little angels and “bringing them up right.” Should he be autocratic ? Liberal? Playful ? Or a hard taskmaster ?

When Rishi took his children into his arms for the first time, he realised that the parental style was simply incidental to what his main role was: providing LOVE.

He thought of what his son’s first words would be. When would his daughter take her first steps? Would his son be a batsman, or a bowler? Would he even like to play cricket with his old man?

Rishi did not have too much time to dwell on this as the rigours of parenthood kept him extremely busy. Sleep soon became a thing of the past and parental duties occupied every nanosecond in the day. Forget a 60 hour week. This was a 168 hour week, 52 weeks in a year, for the rest of his life. But it was the most satisfying job Rishi had ever undertaken.

The only real worry Rishi now faced related to a problem that would occur many years later : when his daughter would grow up and all the boys would chase her

*~Men of Steel~*

What a hero should be is etched deep into our consciousness when we are young and impressionable. The difference between the truly great and the simply very good is miniscule, but is yet always picked up by our sponge like adolescent grey cells.

The way a man walks, talks, his poise and his demeanor push him into the elite echelons of great men with almost God like qualities who, in our eyes, are capable of steadying any ship in any storm. It is our heroes who inspire us, who are the fuel to our dreams & the wings to our hopes. The great deeds of our heroes instill in us an unshakable self belief which allows us to push above our weight and achieve more than what was thought possible.

When the redoubtable Rahul Dravid stood up to and flayed the most hated sports outfit of my childhood, the fearsome Australian cricket team, in an intensely fought Test series in 2003-04, I gaped in awe. Through sheer grit and determination he denied the Aussie bowlers the joy of getting him out, all the while piling on the runs like an unstoppable juggernaut. At Adelaide, a truly special display saw him score a magnificent double century and secure for India what was thought impossible – a Test win on Australian soil. D(r)avid had slain Goliath!

A few years later, in 2007, Kimi Raikkonen joined Ferrari as the successor to the most successful F1 driver of all time – Michael Schumacher. In one of the most intensely fought and intriguing championships I’ve seen, Kimi made the F1 title his own on the last lap of the last race by a single point. Consistently putting in raw displays of speed and showcasing unparalleled car control, he raced the Prancing Horse to what till today is their last world title.


These two men were the icons of my childhood. As the years rolled on, I cheered for every boundary Dravid scored, every record he made his own and every match he won for India. He showed me what could be achieved with single minded unwavering focus.

Kimi Raikkonen showed you don’t have to be a conformist to succeed. He refused to be moulded into someone he wasn’t for the supposed “greater good” and exhibited an increasingly rare trait in F1 drivers – a sense of humour. Famously, when he was leading the Abu Dhabi GP in 2012 and the team were on the radio telling him to manage his tires and to watch out for the driver behind him, Kimi retorted in his inimitable style “Leave me alone – I know what I’m doing”. 

To give you a measure of his popularity, that one line sold millions in F1 merchandise. Kimi went on to win the race ofcourse. All good things have to come to an end and Rahul Dravid eventually hung up his boots after slamming over 24,000 international runs. His exit from the international arena was much like the man himself – graceful and dignified.

It was then that I realized how the hands of the clock had moved and how even I had grown up. The following year I started my first job! After a lacklustre last couple of years, doubts were raised over Kimi’s future. His critics had their daggers out, proclaiming vehemently that he was past his prime, almost a “has been”. Every time he lit up the race track with a phenomenal overtake, I beamed in an unabashed wave of emotion. “Show them what you’ve got” the awe struck boy in me yelled out.

Like millions of fans around the world, I too breathed a sigh of relief when Kimi signed the 2016 contract with Ferrari. My childhood hero will line up on the grid again next year and I believe he’ll storm to many more race victories. He’ll roll back the years and I’ll be a boy jumping up and down on my sofa in front of the TV again.


When our heroes begin to ride off into the sunset, it is our duty to remember them at their prime and thank them for all that they’ve taught us. As Kimi would say “Let’s leave them alone.. they know what they’re doing.”

PS – So who’s your childhood hero? Do let me know!