"He that studieth revenge keepeth his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well"-John Milton He was in his nineties now, slow, fragile and nearing death. Still, every day he used to wake up at 6 in the morning and stare outside the window, blankly. They said when he was young, he was agile, healthy and quick, no one knew what his profession was, but he did retire rich at the age of fifty-five. His only son used to visit the old rooms twice a day, 'Baba, I request you again. Come with us to the big house. What is there in this dump?' his son used to question. 'I can't leave now, there is one final task left son,' he used to smile, 'One final task.' Baba had sent all the furniture from the room to the new house but kept himself a bed and the jewel beaded box. 'No one has ever removed the box from under the diwan since last 20 years, baba,' the daughter-in-law use to question, 'Don't let the servants, but please let me
The plan for my first plan journey began with something like this- my boss in Delhi wanted me there in office urgently. He issued a flight ticket for the capital. My mind screamed with ecstasy as this would not only be an all expense paid trip to Delhi, it will also be the shortest journey back to an office. The first thought that actually came into my mind was that of 9/11 and the next one was from the plane in the final destination movie. None of them helped me with the anxiety as I stood in the line, holding a cup of coffee, to board the flight 212 from SpiceJet. As the plane took off, giving a light bump and disturbing my anxiety for a nano second, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly are the safety provisions if something goes wrong in this? Before the landing, the air hostess did give a demonstration and explain about the safety but they mentioned nothing about sky diving or free-fall for that matter. As the plane ascended at 37,000 feet, slowly, the anxiety died do