Random Expressions

A Story By Deepak Jeswal
Episode Three

I am sure I will need to take another birth to fully comprehend the pain that Smita underwent on that rainy July afternoon. I don’t clearly recall for how long we sat in that claustrophobic room trying in vain to comfort her. She didn’t speak much, but the tears didn’t stop either. Her pretty face was smudged with the kohl streaming along with the tears. It was a Herculean task making her move from the room to the bus stop. Stripped off her dignity and having lost her peer acceptance, she eyed every stranger with dread and fear, and wondered as to how many really knew about her condition.

She took the next few days off.

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A Story By Deepak Jeswal
Episode Two

I searched her tear-stained face for any sign of emotion that could link to my confession. But she had a far-away look in her eyes that stared at the red rose between us though I am sure she was not really seeing it.

“What an irony,” her whisper cut through the tense silence. “The one I thought loved me always told me that my friend was jealous of him but in reality it was the opposite. The man I cared for was jealous of the man who cared for me.”

Looking back, I have to admit her sentence hardly made sense to me at that time. I brushed it off with a quick wave and said, “Leave all this. Now just follow what I have to say.”

She looked up questioningly.


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A Story By Deepak Jeswal
Episode One

“I am pregnant.”

We were walking towards Patel Chest Institute, from where we were to board our bus to return home. I froze in my tracks, and gathered no import of her words, till she repeated them slowly and quietly this time. There have been many times in my life when I have been left grappling for words, but never has been the impact been as stunning as this; it took the wind out of my sails, and lungs and brain, and drowned me in a sea of sheer confusion.

“Err what how?” I stammered, struggling out desperately from my helplessness, only to be plunged into a bigger whirlpool of curiosity that had suddenly formed itself. “But who is the…”


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Film Review

(Note-Spoilers ahead)

Despite some obvious flaws, Reema Kagti’s debut venture about six couples is quite crisp and crackling and a giant leap forward from the tedious Salaam E Ishq, which essentially had a similar premise.


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(Since I mentioned a previous nightmare in the last post, I am re-publishing an entry from my previous blog, Initially, the post was published on 20.08.05)

I am alone. I am lonely. Something is bothering the heart. I cannot place it. I am on this main road. A famous one. Darbar Marg. It is raining. It is night. There is no one on the road. Across, in the middle, there is a fountain. Somone is standing with an umbrella. I know that person. I dont go towards him. But sing aloud enough to attract attention. I want the person to know my presence but simultaneously dont want to talk to him.


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I recall I wrote on a nightmare I had while I was in Nepal; unfortunately, the older blog doesn t have a search option, and I couldn t find that post in my back-up MS Word file. Perhaps, it was part of another post. But when I saw Manish’s tag the sense of deja vu was extremely strong.


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The learned say that the best way to tackle a problem is to hold it by its horns directly. With two tags in a single day, I thought it was best to delve straight into them and finish them off chronologically. Since I read Anks’ post first, so here we go:

(My comments in italics)

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Four phases of life, three cities, two job changes and all through there remained one constant - this blog. Every time I look at my first post I cannot but help laugh at the following lines:

I am not sure for how long I will be able to continue this blog, but I will definitely try

Today we complete three years of Random Expressions. For someone who has an attention span of a child, it is indeed a colossal achievement that this blog has survived three years.

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Film Review

What is dharma (duty)? Is it the constricted definition passed down from the Mahabharata ages in the form of Eklavya’s story (who cut his thumb to please his pseudo-master), where we celebrate the horrifyingly unjust demand for sacrifice only because it sounds righteous and appeases the base moral instinct? Or, is there a leeway where your own brain and circumstances can carve out not your thumb but a practical path of reconciliation? Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s latest directorial venture Eklavya-The Royal Guard, after a long seven year hiatus, tackles this pricky dilemma and questions the value and relevance of Eklavya’s sacrifice.


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Tuesday 6^th February (Contd.)

Mathura is approx. 10 km away from Vrindavan, towards Agra. We reached around one in the noon. The temples would be closed but since we couldn’t go on to Agra and then return, we chose to kill time at Mathura.

Over the years Mathura has extended and grown haphazardly around the NH2. Modernity has brushed it with colorful malls and markets right on the highway.

The main town is seven kms inside from the highway, and there are several entrances to it. I entered from one inroad only to be rudely stopped by another municipality tax ‘booth’ . Since I have often visited Mathura on official tours I knew this wasn’t any official tax. Adamant in not warming the pockets of any hooligans I reversed the car, and careened into the town from another inroad that I knew of.

There are two main attractions here Shree Krishna Janamsthan (SKJS) or Janmbhoomi and Shri Dwarkadheesh Temple. Near the parking of SKJS, guides besieged us and we chose another young boy a class tenth student, yet again.


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Saturday 3^rd February

I left Agra late in the noon. My boss called up asking an important budgeting file, and my plans for leaving early were halted. Even as I struggled to get the figures correct on the excel file, visions of burgeoning traffic at Faridabad loomed eerily in my mind. The stomach added its own grumbling chorus since I had skipped breakfast in order to get the house ready for my parents welcome here on my return trip.

I wriggled out of Agra by three p.m, and reached Delhi by eight in the night, stopping mid-way once at Mathura’s McDonalds (on the highway) for a quick bite.

At home, we finalized the itinery for the Mathura and Agra trip for Tuesday and Wednesday, cropping off a lot of things we wished to add. My sister (from Pune) was very keen about the Mathura part of the trip.


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Where am I? To put it square and straight - on Delhi-Agra highway! It isn’t as if I taken up a house there, but the amount spent on it far exceeds my normal quota. For details, you will have to wait a bit more - till the time I am able to gather my thoughts and wits and present them in a chronologically neat pattern. I will leave with saying I had a delightful trip visiting the insides of Mathura, Vrindavan and Gokul, added with another trip to Taj Mahal and Fatehpur Sikri.

I will be back soon. Till then, don’t click that little red ‘cross’ button on the top right hand corner right now. I have transferred a few old posts from the older blog - for your reading pleasure!

Sidney Sheldon passed away - and however cliched it might sound, but the fact is that an era of pulp fiction writing has come to an end. I am speechless, shocked and very sad. May his soul rest in forever peace. And may he continue to regale the audience to whichever place he has departed to.


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