Scattered Thoughts | ചിതറിയ ചിന്തകൾ

"I don't feel safe in this country. India is run by a government that favors Hindutva. These people treat us like outsiders. So, I live with fear. Why are you all reluctant to accept our existence?" asked Rameeza. Arun was speechless. He noticed the tears in her eyes, and the sedate tone of her voice was quite evident. Apparently, they did not come out of sadness. They came after her frustration about how the country's rulers treated her and her community. "I am glad the Perinthalmanna blast was by a Hindu. If it were a Muslim, it would have aggravated the backlash against the Muslims." "What did we do wrong? I don't know. Why do some people keep treating every Muslim as a monster? Why is it different when a crime involves a person from another religion? I can't make sense of it. This is nothing but differential treatment," she said. It made Arun stand in silence for a second. "Look at Adolf Hitler. He was always treated as a dicta...

January 11, 2025, 5 am. Rohan rushed to the bathroom to clean up the semen. He ejaculated at midnight, and his track pants were all wet. Inside the bathroom, he revisited his sexual dream.  He stood still for a moment. His eyes had a drop of tears. It came out of the realization that the central character of his dream was his 39-year-old mom Reenu.  “Why the hell,” he asked himself, as he cleaned up his body. He flushed the toilet, but could not flush his mind.  “Ro, you want some chai?,” asked Reenu as she saw him coming out.  “No, ” he responded abruptly, and turned on his laptop. He opened the tabs of Instagram, Netflix and YouTube. His YouTube feed was surrounded with updates such as, “Margaret Robbie topless scene from Wolf of Wall Street”, “How to make her fall for you”, “All we Imagine as Light nude scene,” etc.  After all, he was a 13-year-old teenager, who had no clue about sex. He was too shy to ask his friends about it, and like all young teenagers,...

Chapter 1 July 4, 2022, 3 pm “Jithin, there's a call for you from HR,” informed Ramesh ettan, our team lead. I went over to him. He told me to meet HR in person and to bring my office ID. I wasn’t sure about the purpose of the meeting. I was already serving my notice period. My work performance had been unsatisfactory, and I wanted to quit on my own terms. The job was no longer enjoyable. Moreover, I wasn’t working on things that interested me. As a sports lover, I found no joy in covering national news, crime, and politics for the website. On paper, I had many boxes ticked: a good job, a decent salary, and a well-known company. But inside, I was bleeding every single day. I was counting down the days until I could leave. My colleagues didn’t care much about me as I was an introvert and not part of any social circles. My depressed mentality and their judgmental attitudes made it hard for us to have any relationship at all. I thought about all this as I rode the elevator to HR. A we...

  “ Go to sleep, Leave while I am still nice to you ,” messaged the 21-year-old brutally honest editor. I obliged her words. I always do when editors instruct me. It is part and primarily because I was an editor for around 3 years. So I know how they think and I feel why they say things. Naturally, it is more of an easy task to say yes and move on. But this time, I didn’t.  I dropped another topic on the think tank. She chased me - “You will die at my hands," she reacted on PM (Personal Message). I responded with a paragraph. What exactly is going on here? Is he nuts? A normal reader might be wondering by now. I need to make it clear! So that the reader gains an insight into the incident. I also want to handover an official apology for the varying first and third-person narrative that would ruin this word of emotions. I logged out from work at 6 pm. But did I? God knows the truth. Because I answered question after question during intermittent hours. I did that because it is ...

Approaching life’s questions happens in different ways. Some are inward queries. An example could be one’s judgment of an incident. When we conclude without giving a slice in a way that people feel they are involved, we are likely to be called out - internally or rather publicly.  Why does it happen? It could be a product of the attitudinal standard set by society. In this prism, vocality is appreciated as a productive virtue, as it helps understand knowledge level and thought processes. But realistically, people have their own biases and preferences, which they turn into their narratives. They set this narrative based on what they can grasp and what they can comprehend - and it could or could not reflect reality. Unfortunately, many people end up inside a space where blame is passed onto their shoulders, for reasons they are uninvolved. They could be dragged unnecessarily for their non-reactive nature - subjected to their weak point. Sometimes, people turn out into a tragic mess, ...

  "പണ്ടാരാണ്ടോ ചവച്ചുകൂട്ടിയ കഥയുടെ കഷ്ണങ്ങൾ  വാരിക്കൂട്ടി കഥ പറയുന്നൊരു കാഥികനാണ് ഞാൻ" എന്തെങ്കിലുമൊക്കെ മനസ്സ് തുറന്ന് എഴുതിയിട്ട് മാസങ്ങളായി. അക്ഷരങ്ങളിൽ യാന്ത്രികത കടന്നുകൂടിയപോലെ തോന്നിയപ്പോൾ എഴുത്തിന് അവധി കൊടുത്തു. ചുമ്മാ നൂല് പോയ പട്ടം പോലെ അലസസുന്ദരമായി സഞ്ചരിക്കാൻ സുഖമാണ്. ഭാരങ്ങളോ ഭാണ്ഡങ്ങളോ കെട്ടുപാടുകളോ അലട്ടാതെ ചുമ്മാ അങ് പറന്നുപോവാൻ സായിപ്പിന്റെ ഭാഷ കടമെടുത്താൽ  "ത്രില്ലാണ് ".  തമാശയല്ലാത്ത സത്യം എന്തെന്നാൽ എഴുത്തിന്റെ കാമ്പും കലർപ്പും എത്രമേൽ നന്നാക്കിയെടുക്കാമോ അത്രമേൽ സുന്ദരമാക്കിയെടുക്കാൻ കിണഞ്ഞുപരിശ്രമിക്കുന്ന ഒരാളാണ് ഈ കുറിപ്പിന്റെ പിന്നാലെ പായുന്ന ആൾ. ആ ളുകളെ മ ടു പ്പിക്കാതെ, ആദ്യവരി മുതൽ അവസാനവാചകം വരെ ഒപ്പം നടത്തിയാലാണ് രസച്ചരട് മുറിക്കാതെ ചി ന്തയെ നീതീകരിക്കാൻ ആവുക. ഏതെങ്കിലും വരികളിൽ ഉടക്കി നിന്നാൽ എഴുത്തിന്റെ ഒഴുക്കിനെ ബാധിക്കും.  ഇനി എഴുതാനിരിക്കുന്ന വാക്കുകളാണ് ഇതിലും മെച്ചപ്പെടുത്താവുന്നത് എന്ന വിശ്വാസഗതി കൂടെ കൂട്ടുന്നയാളാണ് ഇതെഴുതുന്നത്. പഴയ കുറിപ്പുകൾ ഇടയ്ക്കിടെ വീണ്ടും വീണ്ടും വായിച്ചു വെട്ടിതിരുത്തുക ചെയ്യാറുണ്ട്. പബ്ലിഷ...

I closed my eyes and touched my slow-beating heart. I was about to write a topic I have a large interest in. Interest is an underwhelming word. It does not carry the care and concern I have for the special topic and that emotion.  If love is an emotion, self-love is the more concrete and nuanced version of that feeling. Loving yourself is a liberating activity that can ignite powerful possibilities for a spectacular life. Many people encounter it when they face rejection or out of disappointment or when they feel unloved. However, countless others practice it out of nothing but a genuine interest and love for themselves.  What drives them to keep their love to their own and not look at others? For me, it came with a feeling that I cannot quite explicitly love anybody or express it in the same genuine way I have an honest love for myself. Because I am wired that way, and I like to keep it clean and tidy. As I am self-centric in love, I can never exhibit or express my love for o...