Thanks to the world wide web

Something i found on the web. One of my favourites -

JOY and SORROW

Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.



by Khalil Gibran

thanks to the world wide web,google and my vettiness....and the stupid agarose gel that never showed me any bands for like the zillionth time

selfish!!!

I wonder if it is a crime!
To say that all I care about is happiness;
not yours but mine!
Is it fair to let the world laugh and ridicule
this mighty stupid selfless fool?

Freedom from Fear

At 3 am in the night, I am wide awake… I am trying to fight the rage and fury that swells up….and all this because I happened to read this lovely piece of writing on the internet called "streets,stories and strategies" or something like that.
I have never really lived in a BIG city, and hence it wasnt essential for me to travel a lot everyday. But in my own way,I have learnt that sometimes, carrying the XX chromosome is certainly not a pleasant experience…..where you are doesn’t really matter…the eve teasing, the molesting and everything can happen almost anywhere…..i figured that the only way I would feel better would be to let it out and I decided I have to, no matter what…..
1.The 11 yr old happy kid…skips along in school…little does she know that these “seniors” walking in front of her are discussing about how to corner her…her ‘friend’ flees for her life….i don’t blame the creature….they are at least twice as tall as you…and there’s not one but four of them. Certainly one time when you wish “never been kissed before” is much better.
2. Peon in school…a bloody B and God knows what thrill he gets when he pinches you or caresses you and starts following you….the unbelievable stench inside the Ladies Room saves you
3. Every single ride on those crowded ECR / chengalpattu route buses is a nightmare….the conductor prides himself in making at least two rows of people stand and makes that little extra money….the drunkard asking you all kinds of questions is common…and of course you need to step on the guy’s foot when he starts rubbing his knee all over from the back….and sometimes the conductor has his own share while supposedly ‘making his way” to collect money for the tickets….the countless pairs of eyes that mentally strip you naked cannot be forgotten either
4. Long distance train journeys top the list….on the middle birth of a 2 tier sleeper class compartment, no one tells you that the head has to be near the window while u r asleep, you learn it…the hard way…..when u find the rough hands trying to feel you …its too late though to scream because the bastard has jumped off the train….New Delhi railway station and u r waiting for ur train to arrive…u simply cannot miss the glances, the nudges and the sleazy comments. The side upper birth is the most wretched thing….for a slightly tall guy, totally accessible…it doesn’t really matter how much ever covered and clothed you are....
5. On your bicycle just outside your “home”; a bike passes you with three men and two of them stretching their hands out succeed in touching you….you wished to God that the third one did it and all of them met their death, then and there in front of your eyes..and another time thugs on a bike corner you when u r pedaling with all your might, up a slope….hell!!! who cares for traffic rules…you duck and swerve…a bush of thorns…but it saves you
6. The TT master “teaches” you how to hold the bat from the back...and u can feel him all over from behind
7. You learn that if ever u happen to sit near the “aisle” in a bus, your bag is always in between you and the guy standing right there
9. Overnight bus journeys…and that too on a Hariyana Roadways bus, are nightmares…if you are in the penultimate row of seats in the bus, you are doomed…when the lights are turned off your nails are the most effective weapon..if it doesn’t work, you have to protest and all this is when you have companions and move in a supposedly safe gang
10. Right outside your place, some bugger cuts across screaming into the night, something about how he had an erection thanks to the fact that you werent wearing the usual Salwaar-Kameez+dupatta combo
11. Still worse, when at work, a supposedly brilliant scientist attempts to “talk about science” to you…. you can never raise your voice against this in public, because, the chances are that it will be turned against you but you have to stay…. you try to retaliate when he talks about “your lovely lips” or shamelessly announces that “he has work with you after office hours and wants you to visit him in his cabin to collect a gift- which may not be a book on sex!”. The result is a disaster because this person makes sure you cannot get away that easily and makes life hell…
12. The worst is to stand in front of a little kid as she cries out to you, telling you that it happened just outside the door, on the stairs and asks you – “ Why Me??” and you walk over to look at a dirty white stain on the stairs.
Every experience leaves u even more enraged than the previous one did… Nothing will ever be said or done though….sometimes I wonder ….why almost every guy has to think with that disgusting appendage of his? Another one of those darned questions which will never have an answer

Four freedoms: The first is freedom of speech and
expression - everywhere in the world. The second
is freedom of everyone to worship God in his own
way, everywhere in the world. The third is freedom
from want . . . everywhere in the world. The
fourth is freedom from fear . . . anywhere in the
world.

- Franklin D. Roosevelt

Freedon from such fears is an elysian dream, no doubt shared by millions of women who have been through instances like this and much more....

solitude and chicken pox

there is nothing called loneliness if you make solitude your companion


- nothing much really, just that i have been confined to my room for 8 days thanks to chicken pox and was all by myself the whole week....good that its over and behind me..and hell!!!was i pampered!!!....times when i remind myself that nice ppl still do exist in this world..am sure glad to get back on my feet though
prash...here is to you!!!!seriously...would have been much worse for me without all that you did...thanks a million.......for all the south park dvd's :P kidding of course.Damn that pox virus....the thing is so small and cant even survive by itself, and yet can wreck your whole body....well whatever

The secret of success

This question had long forever plagued me
As to why ‘t is this wretched way that I must be
Oh! how true it is that you cant be taught
To smile and laugh and to worry not
Why is it that all of me seems to be buried in my ugly knitted brow
Will I ever smile when I look at the vibrant colors of the rainbow?
"Oh God", I cried,"I have strived to find an answer, but forever in vain"
And I heard Him say- "You maketh your misery, you create your pain"
"Is it anyone’s fault that you have no faith in you?
My dear, you must trust yourself and all that you do
And that is the little secret that shall always drive
Every single man who can reach the sky
No one in this world can ever be blemishless
The trick is to hold your head high nonetheless
Each one of you my beloved, is precious to me
Because of what you were,you are and will always be
For every soul there exists its very own niche
Never compare,as each one shall walk its own way
And all of them great people who always win
Have the confidence that comes from within
A feeling that they are special and unique
And that the world is theirs; right under their feet
Then my dear, there is nothing else you need to defeat
Life suddenly transforms into a dream ever so sweet
So my child,'t is high time you became confident and bold
Ye must believe that your fingers can spin yarn into gold
Follow my word and very soon,you are sure to shine
Blessed art thou for your life will then feel divine"

Aeons to create ; moments to destroy

Aeons to create ; moments to destroy
A life that is so full of joy
The earth; ever so resplendent
Ruined by the cruel and insurgent
The heavenly shadow of the trees so lovely
Felled to build the “good” economy
The air once fresh and natural
Now so polluted and funereal
Drop thy weapons my beloved friend
Before it is too late to mend
This isn’t a task so arduous
preserving the world that belongs to us

The daughter of a whore

My sorrow,my joy, my only love, my everything, she was
A heavenly nymph with eyes that shone like the stars
I could not watch her become another me
Helpless, I knew that I had to set her free
The clock ticked away incessantly
Bastards!they would come for her mercilessly
The dawn would drag her into this infernal world
Oh no! she was too pristine to be sold
The world is too bad for you I told her
O my little princess,please forgive your mother
But you shall never have a life of shame
Wretched and lowly, with a tainted name
In my arms she lay as she breathed her last
as she journeyed into the heavens past
A fatherless daughter of a whore
My darling, my angel, and then she was no more

Those ugly fears in my head

A fabulous evening it was, as we walked along the beach. The wind was kissing the tall green blades of grass and the water shimmered under the evening sun. It was warm and lovely – he said. I longed to agree with him. I felt cold and I could sense the tension build up inside me. My heart was throbbing and the fear was unbearable. Oh how I wished I could speak about how I felt. The ignominy weighed me down as always. I tried to listen, but he seemed so distant. Even as he made my head rest on his knee, I could feel the wetness on my forehead. It all came back to me in a flash. The faces of the men who had cornered me. I had watched helplessly as my best friend in school fled for her life. I could not blame her.How could I forget the rough hands, the cruel faces and the harsh lips all over me. The dark corridor in school which I always feared. The relentless screams had probably saved me but I had struggled to fight the feeling of shame and disgust ever since.And now, I felt his hands softly caress my face and I looked into his tender eyes even as they became bigger and bigger and bigger….untill the moment when I could feel his breath on my lips…I began to whimper and tremble….i had to break free…..i scrambled back onto my feet and began running…..i had no strength…..i could never succeed in fighting the fear……..a few feet away from the water I heard the shouting and I looked back to see his face even as his hands gripped me. The soft and comforting words soothed me. I knew not how long I stayed. But I remember the feeling as the pain left me…to be gone forever….as all that I had suppressed began to flow…I remember the night that had given me hope…the first time that I had ever wished to see the sun rise and feel its warmth on my skin. I had fought them and won; I was at last rid of those ugly fears in my head.

Rivers of Sorrow

Rivers of sorrow
Where once the tears did flow
Now a heart so frozen and cold like ice
Fighting to let go of the reprise
I beg you to open up, but in vain
Urging you to share and halve your pain
As I walk, I see yet another shadow
My hand outstretched, I want to say that I will never let go
Speechless, I see the turmoil in your eyes
And I can sense the apprehension rise
Let the darkness merge
Let the emotions surge
As your soul is revived once more
I want to be the one to know
Rivers of sorrow
Where once the tears did flow

The Land of the Free

Oh how fortunate you must be
To live in the land of the free-quoth he
Nay, my friend it is never what it seems
It is not all sugar and candy, as in your dreams

Eight months of drudgery
Aspiration has been the death of me
I laugh at the teeming millions who follow
Tricked into leading a life that is so foreign and hollow

Ironic it is indeed that now I yearn
For something that my money shall never earn
That which had forever dwelt in my heart
Until such a time when I chose to part

Pain is a curse thine prayers shall bring as a blessing
Sardonic indeed are His ways of redeeming
Pleasure is in this wretched pain, I say to thee
This is but the only way into the world that is truly free

The vagaries of life

What lies beneath
Is not what appears to be
for, what really is
is never what you see

thou art wrong if you think
that you know it all through
since every moment you spend
you learn something new

Strange it is indeed
To encounter the vagaries of life
Just when u think that the day brings the end
The magical night helps you revive

I shall always love you

As I watch you walk away from me
There is just one thing that I wish to say
That I shall always love you
With the freshness of the roses so red and lilies so blue

I ask if I can hold you one last time
but I know that you will not hear me anymore
please let me kiss you goodbye
why is it dat I feel im drowning; even when im on the shore

You made me laugh
you made me cry
You made me want to live
Now you make me want to die

I need you to walk by my side
Oh my love! don’t desert me, you don’t have to go
Like old times, I wish I could stroke your hair
And wake up beside u, to see the morning sun glow

There is just one thing that I wish to say
That I shall always love you
With the freshness of the roses so red and lilies so blue

to live once more

I wonder…
How is it that every time I fall
I still am on my feet again
Dragging myself on….
Once
Twice….
Every time I lose my balance
The wounds hurt
They are there…telling me dat its not a horrid dream
The scars keep reminding me
The pain gets deeper every time
Until it makes me numb

I fear
That I shall remain unheard
That in yearning I have begun to mourn
That hope has shown me the door to perdition
That I shall always spread out my hands in desperation
Only to get disillusioned to see them empty and listless
That life is now a moribund journey

I feel
That trust is elusive
Like a mirage in the hot deserts
It deceives you and puts u in a world of despair
That love is always beyond my reach
And shall laugh at me condescendingly
Knowing that it shall never be a part of me

I feel
Cold water on my skin sting like bees
A lump in my throat everytime I swallow
An emptiness growing all around me
That my memory is like a thorn pricking me forever
Making me bleed, cry out silently
In the darkness, in the gloominess
I don’t see any light….no end for the tunnel that I am in now

Ice cold
Tired weary and consumed
I am still groping in the dark

And yet……
I long
To be touched
By a hand so like mine
Scarred, wounded, bleeding and ugly
Yet Strong with all the endurance
To forget the burden that my feet carry
To laugh, to cry, to smile, to sing, to dance
To trust once more
To love once more
To live once more

Wishes of woe

I met her at a birthday party….a common friend had invited us…..she seemed coy and demure….i asked her if she would pass me a plate and she never replied…just handed it to me….i thought it was pretty rude and decided that she was mean and vowed not to talk to her……I met her again on the beach….apparently she had followed her elder sister and her friends; and was lost…..i was there with my mother and we dropped her back home…..one day I came home from school and as always began to call out for my mom…..my mother walked up to me and asked me to behave myself….I entered and I found her sitting on My chair….drinking some juice and eating freshly baked cookies…..mom explained to me that her family had moved next door and that she would play with me everyday……we had good fun….i guess we grew up together…..laughed and played and studied together………she was not one bit reticent……every single time I said good bye, I would remember her broad smile and the warm hug she gave me…..she was the only one who knew that I had a crush on a girl two years older than me…..she was the only one who knew of my clandestine activities as an adolescent…..she talked a lot about herself….her dreams, desires, likes, dislikes…everything under the sun……
Like any other day, we were wandering in the neighborhood when she first told me…..her father had bought a new house in the city….he was a doctor and worked in a BIG hospital….and had loads of money…of course I got to know about all this, from my mother and not her….i looked into her lovely blue eyes as she told me that they had packed up all her stuff…..we clambered over the wall and entered the unkempt garden…..the house was built many years ago……no one ever lived there and the garden seat was our favourite abode….We had just a year before we would join the rat race….fighting to earn professional credibility and make a living for ourselves….we sat there for a long time…I don’t know how long….but it felt like forever….pin drop silence…..and I heard a soft sigh…I turned to face her and looked into her eyes…..were they moist?????no no I was being stupid…..but before I could utter the words I had so longed to say, she grabbed both my hands and held them…..i was lost….and even before I realized my palms held her lovely face as i kissed her…..we walked back hand in hand…..no promises to write because we knew that it might not be possible…but she said that every year she would send me something on my birthday…….i smiled as I was reminded of the birthday party…….
The cards came every year. I sent her one too…her letters were long n talked about everything she did. I wrote back with the same fervour…..i could not keep up with the pace though….. slowly their frequency diminished…..untill all that was left between us was a birthday card…..the tradition continued past the four years at college and two years at work untill i finally decided to visit her…..it was not hard to find her place….all through my journey,i could relive every moment of the time we spent and I could recollect all that we had shared in the past….there was some foolish hope that she had not forgotten ….that she would be waiting to get back….what should I surprise her with?i finally settled with the idea of getting her a book on gardening….i knew that she had a lovely garden and that this was her passion…..i bought the book at a travel book store and embarked on my mission of finding her co-ordinates…..an hour later, tired and dirty, I got out of the truck that had given me a free ride and thanked the driver……….i looked at the sprawling bungalow that loomed in front of me and walked up the driveway….the garden was lovely and I looked around expecting the rose bushes, the hibiscus , the chrysanthemum, the dahlias and the lilies….just as she had described…….i was greeted by her mom…..she looked old…..but hugged me with tears in her eyes……she took me up to her room and asked me to step in……the door was ajar and I tried to tread softly…lest she was sleeping….the room was huge and ornate…..as I entered I saw the oak table that she had described in one of her letters…..her grandmother had given it to her on her eighteenth birthday…..on the table I saw every single card that I had sent….taped….there were some extra ones too…..i was prying…I knew it was wrong….but I had to know who had sent it….did she have a boyfriend? Why hadn’t she told me? I opened the card n smiled to myself heaving a sigh of relief….she had dated it with my birth date…..three months ahead…she already had a card all ready, to be posted….i shook my head cursing myself…..and moved on to the next one….the same date…a yr ahead…another year….another year…another year…..i turned to face the door….i missed it at first…..then I saw her….the serene face….a perfect picture……I walked up to the bed and read the familiar immaculate writing next to the lamp…..plain and simple…as she told her sister to send me the cards year after year after year; long after she was gone……

Satan or Samaritan

Was it the cold? Or was it the chillness inside her? She knew not why she felt this way…..all she knew was that her job was done…like numerous other ones….this one had required all the strength and grit that she had built through the past….it could not be done by everyone-that’s what her boss had said when he assigned it to her….if she succeeded, it would surely make an impact on the political scenario in the state….after all….blowing up the historic 200 yr old library building wasn’t a joke……she had done it….placed the bombs where they had to be placed…..set everything up……handing over the controls and everything else to her friend, she had begun to leave the place….walking briskly, she was looking for the brick wall…..on a cold winter night, this was the last place anyone would be in…..she saw lights at a distance….houses….people….happiness….not to her….it meant nothing to her…in another five minutes she would be over the wall and the blue maruti van would take her back into the wilderness….and by dawn she will be back….to the only place that gave her shelter….to the only place that accepted her….permitted her to live….the only territory that did not tell her that she was foreign….far into the jungles….and there she would lie in wait….longing to hear about the blast…about the ruins…about the shock….the bloody loss of human life….about the pain …and the grief….as lives would be lost and hopes would be buried forever….but would it ever pay for the pain that had throbbed inside her for so many years? Would it make the emptiness disappear? Would it make her smile? Would it bring back her long lost family? Will it give her the life that had been snatched from her? Memories haunted her even after more than a decade….the village…the farms….the happiness….her parents….and then suddenly everything had changed….they had murdered the only people she had…she shuddered as she relived the moments when the men had carried her away….the pain, the trauma and the shame that had transformed her into a heartless machine….
The dark alleys seemed to go on forever…..was that the end? Was that the wall she was so frantically looking for? In another five minutes she would be safe……And then she heard it…..the cry…..of hopelessness….of despair…pain….the hoarse voice that was being muffled by loud and cruel sounds….Noooooooo…..it was too much to handle….she just had ten feet to the wall now….why didn’t the voices go away????why couldn’t she succeed in pushing them out? In the midst of their dastardly celebrations, she heard the whimpering….and something inside her stirred…..bringing back to her the night when she had lain all by herself….on the land stained with the blood that was her own….the blood of the people who were her own…….when she longed for someone to help her….to fight away her fears ……to give her hope…..strenght….the night when she longed for solace…..and the night after that……and after….untill the time she had decided that she would never shed a tear again…..The heavy weapon weighed her down and jolted her back to the present….she could see the men….and the hand that was stretched…holding on to the dirty, torn and stained piece of cloth…..it was a banner…..the girl was one of the thousands of people who had marched all through the city that afternoon…in protest against the violence and the killings….
In that split second, she made the decision…..she turned towards them…….and then she saw it….the shrine she was about to enter…the tapering roof with all the intricate carvings….the idol….the stone that it was…..how many such cruelties would it have silent witnessed?
In a few seconds she had succeeded in fighting them…the weapon had done its duty again….she did not even look to see the lifeless forms drop down….
*************
The nude figure was sprawled on the floor….wounded,scarred and helpless…..her hand still clutched the banner….with a picture of the dove that was stained with her innocent blood…….the girl had been beaten and the scratches she saw on her breasts made her want to scream….looking around, she broke the locks that ironically protected the lifeless dolls….and snatched the supposedly sacred cloth that would grace the deity in the morning…..she saw the camphor, the sacred water in the kamandalu, the red stains made by the kumkum, the flowers and the fruit….and she read the lines that said that God was there to protect the weak and the oppressed….just a few feet away ….lay the victim of yet another atrocity…..the stained banner,broken bottles, torn clothes and her belongings strewn all over….She knew what it felt like….how it hurt…and she could not help but reach out….she brought the water and gave her the cloth…..
Draped in the saffron saree and washed with the sacred water…..the girl was carried out of the shrine…. God watched silently….as always
****************
Sounds woke her up…..she looked around her…it came back to her…the long walk…the ramshackle house…the smelly walls…..the sun was streaming in through the gaps…..it had been a long tough night….the girl had been torn….and she had to be taken care of….she had given her the comfort, the attention and the reassurance that she needed…..but now there was no one….the banner lay on the dirty floor….she regretted it….the blue van would have left….taking back a message that she had not returned..triggering a series of events….eventually leading to the acceptance that she had been caught or killed…..why had she been so foolish????? She picked herself up and was just about to go out into the open when she heard the loudspeaker….the voice asking her to step out……surrender……her head was reeling…..the nausea was unbearable….she saw more than a dozen of them….probably none of them really knew how to actually use the weapon that they were pointing at her so gallantly….but she knew that she could not escape….behind all of them she saw the elderly man in uniform, who had just spoken…she could not defy him….her glance moved away from all of them….had she just got a glimpse of saffron?????? She saw her once more…..bruised and tired….the girl was fighting…fighting someone…..she was trying to tell them something….trying to break free from the people who held her………she was pointing to her….screaming at the elderly policeman…..showing her the green belt that the “terrorist” had tied around her and the thick green coat that she had wrapped around her to give her warmth….the girl wanted to tell them something….and the others would not let her do so…..
********
Her hands on the cold metal of the barrel, she looked up at the sky….she looked down …..and saw the tear fall….splash into the sand…..no one saw it….her hand brushed her face……and stayed for a moment on her lips….as if she were praying….what was she asking for? No one knew….
In a second she had fallen….the pills never failed….in those last few moments….she saw her parents beckoning to her…..to a place that she always dreamt of…to a place where she could live without fear….where she would belong…where laughter and love would reign supreme….her little one was back to life….rocking in between her feet….and she saw his face….those eyes that had given her life……..in them she found what she had sought…..she felt human….she felt loved once again….she opened her eyes one last time…to see the saffron again…the girl bent over her…weeping….clasping her….everything seemed distant…nothing mattered….she was happy….to leave the world that had never given her a place….

together in sickness and health

“Don’t forget your lunch box….and the pickle is in the small plastic airtight container next to it, as always….Bye Venky”….Neha gave her husband a quick hug. She lingered only a second longer…”What the hell was happening? Venky seemed a bit pensive and distant of late…had he sensed that there was something wrong with her? Did he notice that she was getting tired these days? Life had been perfect and Neha had loved every second of the 8 months that they had shared after their marriage….Inspite of their busy schedules at work, they had had a lovely time together………but then how could she have ever hoped that it would remain perfect forever? She had never dreamt that she would be alive to live with this torture….Venky trusted her more than his life…she had betrayed that trust….she had brought misery to both of them….Oh how she wished that the HIV should just kill her that moment…the secret was weighing her down….
It came back to her….the foolishness…the drunken revelry…when she had gone totally off guard…How her emotions had taken over her and how she had traded away her life for those few moments of carnal ecstasy…..it had happened three years ago and she had never thought it could……oh how she wished she had told him about all this….now it was too late….

* * * * *

She turned into the street and parked outside the building which had an old broken down sign that read “ Internet Café”. The chats had helped to temporarily alleviate her pain. Dr.Ajay had been the only one to know initially. But he had insisted on interacting with affected people like her. It would help her come to terms with the shock and the grief – he had said. Neha could not dream of talking about this to even Venky!!! A stranger???? How could she???? No…never….she was too ashamed to do it…in the end she decided to use the internet….she obtained the ID from Dr.Ajay. It was much easier this way….But how did she ever think that this would make her feel better???? She had to tell Venky….but how?when?

* * * * *
Dr. Ajay was just outside his door. Go right in Neha- he said. Just keep talking…Ill be back” He was happy that she had finally mustered up enough courage to meet and talk…not just through the net, but in person…….just one meeting with this person would do a lot more good than all the “internet chatting” that she had been doing with him all this while. He shook his head as he walked towards the admin office …..These silly youngsters….what is it with all of them? A little restraint would do them some good….Neha was a good girl….young, smart and successful….she had jus begun a new phase in her life….he felt bad for her husband…whoever it was….

* * * * *

The admin division was something Dr. Ajay hated…he was lucky that he was done so soon.His thoughts returned to the people in his office while he walked back to it.As he turned the door handle, Dr. Ajay made up his mind to ask Neha to bring her husband……whoever he was….he needed to know…Nothing in his experience had prepared him for this though……Neha was sobbing and he could barely discern the words- Forgive me my love…I never had the courage…..it happened so long ago that I didn’t think it would matter if I didn’t let u know……The tears couldn’t be helped….Dr Ajay walked away as he let Venkat embrace Neha…..