A toothless judiciary system!!!!! S.H.A.M.E

He has to be castrated in public.

He will burn in hell.

Read on,

Below is an excerpt of the article on ndtv.com

Two teenage girls, best friends and neighbours, watched television as Steffi Graf battled Monica Seles on August 12, 1990. Itching to imitate those serves and volleys, 14-year-old Ruchika Girhotra and Aradhana Parkash headed straight to the tennis court in their hometown Chandigarh.

It turned into a day that would scar them so badly, that one of them would be pushed to death.

During their game, they were summoned to the office of the President of the Haryana Lawn Tennis Federation. He was also one of Haryana's most-senior policemen. S P S Rathore asked Aradhana to leave his office. When she returned, he was molesting her best friend. He stopped when he realised he had been caught.

Ruchika's own mother had died when she was 11. She confided in Aradhana's family.

The Parkashes immediately adopted Ruchika's battle as their own; a battle that pitted them against a powerful policeman with hefty political connections. A police inquiry found Rahore guilty. Not surprisingly, his own force refused to take any action against him.

Men who followed them everywhere threatened the families. Ruchika found herself expelled from school three years later. Her brother was arrested for half a dozen car thefts. Overwhelmed by what her family was going through, Ruchika, now 17, killed herself by drinking poison. The cases against her brother were dropped after that. The Girhotras left Chandigarh.

Aradhana, however, vowed to fight for her friend. Her family won a CBI inquiry for the case in 2000.

But the charges against Rathore were a pale version of what Aradhana wanted. Instead of abetment of suicide amounting to murder, Rathore was accused of molestation.

The CBI said that because Ruchika had killed herself three years after the molestation, her death could not be linked to Rathore. Oddly enough, the CBI's own chargesheet contradicts that. It says, "The investigation has also disclosed that after the incident of molestation of Ms Ruchika remained confined to her house and remained depressed. Later, she committed suicide."

Through this, Rathore's career flourished. He retired as Haryana's most-senior policeman, the Director General of Police, in 2002.

Om Prakash Chautala, who was the chief minister during this time, denies that he sanctioned Rathore's promotions. Chautala told NDTV on Tuesday that his sympathies lie with Ruchika's family, and that he wishes the verdict against Rathore had been more severe.

That verdict has stumped everyone - six months awarded on Monday to a man found guilty of molesting a teenager. Rathore was granted bail immediately, so he will spend no time in prison. He says he will appeal against the verdict. His other comment: "It's a very old issue. Forget about it now."

courtesy: ndtv

He has to be castrated in public.

He will burn in hell.

Chennai's new fashion statement.

The rain god is back with a bang in Chennai and today was one of the coldest days of the year by far.You may think i'm exaggerating. Maybe I am.hehe..But u cant stop a chennaite from bragging when the mercury drops even just a milli.Trust me, today's weather was "romantic". It rained in the wee hours in the morning.,but not good enough for schools to be called off.I had a bet with the kids in the block here.Half yearly exams are on and they dearly prayed for a holiday!.I won the bet (muahahaaa... i know im evil!!).

Anyways, now that I'm unemployed and all that I have loads of time to kill in the evenings. I decided to hit Usman Road around 6pm to porikify some cheap trinkets and stuffs.Since the weather was good, I decided to walk it up.I didnt even cross my street when i noticed something was amiss.Seriously!!. People and fellow passerbys sported something funny on/over their ears.It was a flab of stretched fluffy woolen cloth on both the ears connected from behind the head with a flexible thingy. It wasnt the same from person to person..some pink,fanta orange and some with the nike tick on both ears. I even spotted one with Vijay's vettaikaran print on it.

Even the "street corner " tea kadai bhai was wearing it..

"Bhai, rendu boomer thaanga",I asked. I didnt shift my gaze from the hideous thing on his ears.His was military camouflage pattern.

"Bhai, Athu enna? unga kaadhule???", I piped curiosity beckoning.

"Ithuva??...Earmuffs ma"... As he adjusted the thing with both his hands so proudly showing it off (I cudnt help rolling my eyes)

"WHAT the heck ??? ear muffs ah?..Why are you wearing it??? "

I could sense. He smirked at my ignorance of the most "in" thing in chennai. I smirked harder when he failed to catch the sarcasm in my voice of the above previous question.

Thats when it dawned on me. Everyone on the street had one pair on.The road side romeo's played carom board, all with a pair of earmuffs. The paatis and thathas all sported colorful muffs on their way to the temple. Platform stalls on usman road were selling these earmuffs like hot cakes. Two for twenty five bucks. People thronged around these stalls to pick the more fancy/colorful ones than the previous customer. They were'nt too embarrassed to even smack it on their ears then and there.I understand its cold in chennai,I know its raining and all that.But EARMUFFS IN CHENNAI...really?? you must be kidding me.Grrr........

I muttered "madness" under my breath as I returned home and opened the gate only to see my dad reading the evening newspaper in the portico with a pair of black earmuffs on......

No further comments .I end my post here!

When words fail you....

There are moments in life when words fail you.

No matter how hard you try, there are certain questions posed by people which can put your heart in your mouth.You just simply open and close your mouth hoping words will mysteriously form out of thin air. But there's no escaping the wrath and the agony such questions which can even make you ponder about your very existence and its purpose.

I, for one had the misfortune to be the victim of one such situation when all the languages in the world failed me…..

Pavithra(a 3 year old) : Akka, Neenga girl ah boy ah?????

Me : &*#$$^%$%^$@#$

A pictorial representation of my reaction.

Naan Asin thaan da!!!!

So, the other day I was strolling down the saidapet railway station.Though I live at close proximity to the Mambalam station, I prefer taking my trains from saidapet. Primarily because I hate surfing through the humongous human waves pouring into the famed Ranganathan street day in day out. You don’t have to really walk to the Mamabalam station, you will be glided by the crowd in and out effortlessly.Only thing, you can almost smell the sweat off the person’s head walking ahead of you and the person behind can smell yours.At any given point of time, someone will be playing the game “Lets-see-who-stamps-my-feet-harder” game without your permission.Now, if you’re a girl.,needless to say, there will be moments like “Ouch, What was that”..or “who the f**k was that”…………..you get my drift right?!?!?

So like I said, the other day I was strolling down saidapet station.It was around 3 in the afternoon with not many people around except a few pairs of heads sitting on sunbaked cement benches oblivious to the Chennai weather almost glued to eachother discussing Global warming issues and climatic changes in Siberia. I had to take the overhead walkway to go towards the other side of the track. That’s when I saw him.

A man in his mid forties or late…not more. He was frantically grooving around the place where he was standing throwing his arms in mid air as if searching for something.On closer look, I realized he was had dark glasses on.He was a blind man.Not only that, he was asking for help as far as his soft voice could carry for someone to guide him through the over head bridge. I was a good 15-20 meters away from him.Apparently he got down from the train which just left the platform.As I watched, he continued grooving around with his hands and slowly staggering sideways precariously close to the edge of the platform.

One pair sitting on the bench close to where the blindman was, were still discussing Global issues with heads together, arms arnd each other in broad daylight. “Buggers!!!”.

I sprint the distance between me and the blindman and in no time I held his foreman and pulled him away from the sloppy platform.

“Thanks madam, Ennai konjam bridge kitta vittudinga please”, he said immediately and shifted the grip of my hand from his left to his right since he was carrying a huge cloth bag in his left.

He clasped my hand hard and held on to it for dear life.Frankly, I’ve never held a guy’s hand before except my dad’s ofcourse.So I was kinda going numb from his grip., as we slowly walked down the long deserted platform.He took small child-like strides, so I had to reduce my pace as well.He stumbled slightly, on a slate of mosaic that was detached up from the floor. “Stupid me,I should have have told him that there was a bump.

Thereon, I said “pallam iruku inga”, “step varuthu”, “right turn”,”left turn” where ever necessary., as we slowly climbed up and down the almost disintegrating steps of the saidapet OH walkway .Man, It felt like to have walked up and down the everest. Wonder how they do it everyday.

On reaching the foot of the stairs, he said “Romba Nandri madam, and walked away briskly towards the left of the road while I went right.

Suddenly,someone screamed,“Ghajini, Asin-nu nenapo manasula….”

I wheeled around to see the source of the compliment. It was the jerk on the bench that was discussing global issues.

“Ammam da…vaada, Naan Asin thaan da….”

He muttered something like “Decent ah irukunu paatha, ponnu sema local-a pesuthu paara”

Ading goyya……Poda dei…..

He went cowering behind the dupappta of the girl he was with…. :-)

Shi(f)t happens!

They say you’re whole life reels in front of your eyes moments before you die.This is not something like that, This is not anything like that.Not even tad closer to that, Its not that at all. But what would flash in front your eyes moments after you quit your job.A job you were almost wedded to for 3 odd years and held on to your dear life., even when its ex-chairman was playing chess in one Chanchalguda(that’s somewhere in AP) Central jail according to sources.I assume you would have guessed who I’m talking abt.

Its like this.. I quit my job last week.

It was a decision taken on impulse, though pondered upon and contemplated for so long, I can rightfully say it was planned.I'm a little disappointed that it took me almost half a year to let go.Now that’s a whole different can of worms.Lets not get into that now.

So, I was there at the reception of my office building doing all the closing formalities., like submitting my ID card et all., and with a glazed eye as my 3 years of worklife reeled in ultra slow mo in alternate black and white and sepia like a some age old movie with Illayaraja for BGM…

Reel 1: The image of the guy who walks around from the cafeteria to the sports room to the library to the pantry with his hands always in his pockets.Its a mystery to everyone in my ODC.I for one,invariably get reminded of a joke in one tamil movie. :)

Reel 2: The tragedy that befell Miss.Ju when she called me on the phone to tell that she got accidently locked from inside the loo and I went charging in to rescue her like some super girl only to realize I broke and barged in to the loo in the 2nd floor while Miss Ju was in the 3rd floor.There was a lot of heroine-like screaming that day in the ladies wash room.

Reel 3:When Mrs.M’s baby was due in a month’s time., andher water broke prematurely and she was adamant to go in an auto to the hospital than wait for a cab. It took us ages to talk her out of “delivering-the-baby-in-the-auto” idea. She was blessed with a baby boy that same night.

Reel 4: Project financial report presentation’s 5th slide had a beaming picture of my boss with all her jewels,adigai,odiyanam and all crap she and her ancestors ever owned. When the 5th slide was up in the huge screen, My boss was flushed to the dismay of 30 odd ppl in the conference room.Only 2 ppl knew how that picture got into the presentation, one, the author of this blog and Miss Ju.

“Madam, Please hand over your ID card…..”, guffawed the almost inaudible security guy

"I already gave the odiyanam, errrmm…I mean the ID card.",I blurted coming back to my senses.

“You can keep the tag mam”, the security guy smirked.

“What am I to do with this, can’t even hang myself with this”, you have it as my Memorabilia.

And I walked out of the building singing “Rain drops falling on my head”,

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head

But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red

Cryin's not for me

'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'

Because I'm free

Nothin's worryin' me

As the hands-in-the-pocket guy went past me…. With his hands u know where………………….

I mean his pockets!!!!

So long…..Satyam!!

We measure love not with the amount of happiness given.. but with the amount of pain borne.

I stumbled upon this quote....Read it twice....Made me think for awhile....blogged it...Changed font...published it....I'm Over and out now...

Happy thanksgiving to all...