Ginger drafts...

Chapter 1 When I initially began this writing project, I had to witness objections from many different sources. But today, I am sixty years old and the incident no longer worries the participants. Today, I am free to write about it. I was twenty five when I joined Daniel school of business. The year was 2199; B-school education was undergoing a period of tumultuous competition. Schools competed for an image; there were a couple of big firms that recruited only from schools with good repute. Shadows of glistening brand image cast by these firms’ affiliation with the schools put them on the top of the students’ choice list. Our HAL 9000 CRM had indicated a spur of reactions from the most loyal clientele in the coming days. We had no time to loose. Our team set out to find the potential trigger points. We had molecular biologists working on our HAL 9000 to locate fractious elements within the DNA of our loyal network. The results pointed to a man from Ken’s school. We had no choice but

Chapter 1 Replacing the glass bulb from an overhanging plastic socket, Zafir realised that the spider web had caught onto the suspended wire. His wife Anjali handing over the torn piece of the chequered table cloth implored that he make no fuss about the old cloth which had to be replaced with a new one. Turning the newly purchased bulb slowly in its hold, slapping a mosquito up his shins with the other leg, Zafir accidentally dropped the tester that was lodged between his jaws. With a shrill cry, squeaking like a prey that has befallen the wrath of a hungry forest king, Anjali flopped her pink nightie to the ground. Before Zafir could apologise for the accident, she was nervously tucked in the corner of the room with all but her lingerie on. Zafir, with words of consoling and strict rapping of the nightie, reached her with a loving embrace and Anjali with a quick leap of fear, hugged him with her eyes closed. It was not a lizard, there was nothing at all to worry about, but she wrappe

No spoilers. You can read thru. Freud would have patted Cristopher Nolan’s back. Freud, through his patient analysis of the mind and dreams, has postulated the levels of dreams and the volitional advantage that the dreamer accrues at each level. The subconscious mind in Freud’s words is like the water in a fountain that drops back into the vast pool before achieving a brief hiatus of consciousness while up in the air. Freud in his guile cheerlessness commented “civilisation began when an angry man cast a word instead of a rock”. Nolan embellishes Freud’s word with an emphasis on ‘idea’ that is resilient, overwhelming, incredibly powerful and all encompassing. History points out that the fascination with dreams has inspired men since the dawn of civilisation. Many directors have explored and dabbled with the idea of dreams. Most significantly in the year 1999; the year has seen the release of three movies that takes three decades to forget. ‘Matrix’ explored the possibility of a tricky

Through the maze of wooden pillars that hollowed inside, bugs proceeded with great calm. It was raining outside, the thickened walls contained in them damp and strong scent of winter. The roof drooped under the weight of giant spiders that busied themselves with weaving webs; the large square shaped tiles broke haphazardly to reveal gravel that rattled and the adjoining tiles creaked when someone stepped on them. There I was, with my leonine head stooped to the floor, sniffing at every object that came my way. This sinister place, my home, offered shelter to many a dogs like me. In winters we all slept in the room upstairs that had no windows and stayed relatively warm. The closed walls had an effect on our personality; we developed something of animosity and hatred at each other’s habits. The other day my belly ached at night, so involuntary it was that I failed to step out of our warm closeted room. My regurgitating left an unpleasant smell inside the room and the rambunctious twin