Tiger, My Son

Thirty seconds from now, I will be falling flat. I didn't know today was THE DAY. I freely fall on the ground forcing the dirt to shoot up into my nostrils. I lay there listless, unconscious surrounded by a bevy of strangers. Pain is a strange feeling. Sometimes it makes you scream, sometimes uncomfortable and sometimes uneasy but always makes you remember your mother. So, pain wakes me up as I am hit with another bamboo on my head. Even before I react to the wound, I find myself hanging mid-air, my each leg tied to a different tree with a rope.

I am trapped. I am. I scream, I roar, but these mean bastards hardly understand my language. Every human soul walking below my floating body was laughing out loud. I do not know why. Do they not see me screaming in pain? God, no, they are coming closer. If there is a God, I'll be saved today. But hardly anyone has ever predicted the future to perfection. As I thought I would get a breather, exactly then the unimaginable happens. I am brought down to the ground and stabbed 36 times, in succession by each of them until their feet are drowned in my blood. They split me open, you can see through me but unfortunately I am still alive. The decision of my soul to leave my body gets stronger with time.

Pain has broken all its records and reached a level from where even my mother can’t soothe it now. I try to ward off these men with all my might , I scream, I weep, I yell....not in sheer pain but on learning that it’s my skin that has made these humans do this to me.

Somebody please explain these men that I am not crying because they are axing my legs but because I have a 2 month old, son, who is waiting for his mother to get him his daily diet. As I lay here helpless, I wonder what he would be doing alone. I imagine him playing with flies sitting on his nose and bees trying to bite him around his ears. He always loses to the latter. I love you son. Mumma really loves you. Baby, you have to realize that your mother will not return now. She is going exactly where your father did. You have to grow up alone responsibly, you have to make new friends son. You will have to learn everything by yourself from today. These humans want to wear me around their neck, so who knows, maybe I will be an expensive fur coat by next week.

I conclude there is no God, as I know I will not be saved. But, as last tears trickle down my eyes, I pray, I pray that whatever my friends, my husband and I have been through, my son, Tiger, does not have to go through the same. Everyone has a heart, don’t know how it got skipped from humans, and my heart beats for my son. I will miss you son, I will.

If anyone sees a beautiful cub running around... please save him, please, he is Tiger... Tiger, my son.



Note: Its already quite late to write an ‘awareness’ blog when there are only 1411 tigers left in India, but this roar isn’t because Tiger is our national animal but because I want my future generations to see a real Tiger. So, let’s roar for them now so that we see them roaring in future.

Running Out Of Life..

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Lights, Camera, Action.....

Its 7 in the morning, I get up with a thump. Shit !! I am late and my cab's gonna be here anytime.Thankfully, I board it and reach office by 8:30 am. I greet my Boss, Good Morning, expecting no reply and as always I once again meet my expectations.
I check my mailbox, and what the fish, I have insane deadlines to meet, my leaves for next week have been rejected, the bozos at the Finance Dept have once again cut extra tax from my negligible salary and amidst all this frustration, there is a fake mail shouting "Periodic Performance Assessment - 2009". Wow !! Appraisal mails are realistically fake. They are written to give you a perception that, yes, there is light at the end of the tunnel but in reality there is a door just before that light, and you end up getting stuck in the tunnel.
In Computer terminology, processing raw information into a meaningful one is called Data. Thus, after being hit by a tsunami of Data in my first 10 minutes of office, I desperately need a coffee, and mind it, that too at the push of a button.
As I log onto my PC again, I read the calendar's pop-up "Status Meeting in the Next 15 min". God.. This is one meeting where I can sue my boss for defamation. The team moves to a conference room and the work status of each team member is asked to which our boss taunts rightfully. I am a special case. My boss takes extra care of me.
He asks me the status, then gives the status himself, asks me the reason of delay, then gives the reason himself. I stand there like an asthma patient, gasping for breath.
He interrupts every word I utter, has a difference of opinion on every solution of mine and to top it over with fresh layer of embarrassment, he advises me to pull up my socks. I, like Monalisa, always wear a picture perfect smile with a readymade answer, "Yes Sir".
As I move out of the Conference room, I switch off all the lights. I am doing my bit, are you? Fish.... sorry, this ain't a blog on Global Warming, so I'll refrain myself from going any further.
I shoot out for a quick smoke with my peer. As a mutual gesture, we discuss job openings, girls, homely girls, hot girls, beautiful girls and if existing, beautiful intelligent girls.
While we crush the ciggi-butt (My boss: Mr. C.G.Bhatt. Wow, what resemblance) with our shoes, we follow a ritual of repeatedly abusing our boss. This activity feeds us with great enthusiasm, zeal and immense peace of mind.
Every human is a manager but I emphasize, that vice-versa is not always true. Unfortunately today, meeting deadlines and not intelligence is a measure of one's ability.
If you finish on time, then who cares, it was your duty but if you don't, then mind you, you'll have it on your booty.
I slog it out till 10 in the night. As I wrap up and clear my desk, I glance at my boss's empty chair. It’s empty since 6 pm. This forces me to derive a Workological Equation: "Working hours is inversely proportional to Salary drawn". I board the cab and reach home by 11. My family members have slept with a note on the table, "Food is in the Microwave, Heat it. Eat it. Good Night". There are times like these when you are assured that you are living in the 21st century, with gadgets getting on your head. From Coffee Machine to Water Purifier to Laptop to ATM to Microwave, there is hardly anything manual that I come across throughout the day. Thankfully, there is one for which I head straight and, that’s Sleep.
Next morning again, I board my cab, reach the office, and what the fish....., there is hardly anyone in. My team area looks like a robbed village. There is total chaos in the office with hardly anyone working. I smile on not seeing my boss and reach out to my smoke partner to gather the rest of the information. He is huddled in one corner with members of other visible teams, all sharing the same frantic look. I learn from them that the Company's Management fired around a 100 people late last night. The sweep engulfed almost my whole team. God Damn..!! Is this real? Are these ethics? Am I saved? Do I consider this as my appraisal? I take a coffee and purposefully move away from my desk.
I am on the 9th floor and as I look down from one of the 8X10 glasses shielding our office building, my eyes comfort themselves by looking at the innocent school children, running and hopping around their school play ground. I look back at the deserted cubicles resembling an area ruined by a tornado. Was my boss really a BAD GUY? Did he deserve this? What answer would he give to his child, if asked why didn’t he go to office today. Does that child even know what happened? He on the other hand, would be jumping with joy to find his Paa at home. Innocence of one can be frightening for the other.
As I fix my eyes again on the children, I remember a recent song,
"Give me some sunshine, give me some rain..
Give me another chance, I wanna grow up once again…."
As I take a deep breath to absorb the muted bomb blasts happening around me, I realize my daily routine is virtually remote controlled.

I am running out of life guys, someone please press Esc.

Cut.. Pack Up !!

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