08;07 AM, Thursday, April 19 …a moment of great pride and honor for all Indians as India has successfully conducted the maiden test of its indigenously developed nuclear capable Agni-V ballistic missile with a strike range of over 5,000 km, from the Wheeler Island off Odisha coast.

As an Indian I am proud, and as an Odia, I can hardly cage my overwhelming happiness :)

The trial of Agni-V, considered to be of the category of Inter-Continental Ballistic Missile (ICBM), demonstrates giant strides taken by India in its integrated missile development program.

Only the United States, Russia, France and China possess the capability to operate an ICBM at present, and India enters the elite ICBM club with Agni-V in hand. What a moment !!!

“The sleek missile, within a few seconds of its blast-off from the Island launch pad roared majestically into the sky leaving behind it’s trajectory, a trail of thin orange and white smoke before disappearing,” said an eyewitness to the launch, conducted amid light drizzle.

The surface-to-surface Agni-V is capable of striking a target more than 5,000 km away. It is about 17 meter long and two metre wide with launch weight of around 50 tonnes.

The sophisticated missile can carry a nuclear warhead of more than one tonne.

Unlike other missiles of indigenously built Agni series, the latest one – Agni-V – is the most advanced version having several new technologies incorporated in it in terms of navigation and guidance, warhead and engine.

India has at present in its armoury of Agni series, Agni-I with 700 km range, Agni-II with 2,000 km range, Agni-III and Agni-IV, with 2,500 km to more than 3,500 km range.

Thursday’s trial was aimed at putting India into an exclusive club of nations possessing such long-range ballistic missile technologies.

Smile Quotient: Now the quality of Chinese products in India will improve as Agni-V can reach any part of China :)

No, not at all

9.00AM, The alarm started buzzing again indicating the time for my medicine. I was in no mood to digest that devil bitter pill. Kept my eyes closed…and pretended to my own as I am sleeping. But then someone touched my leg with a bit warm blanket… It felt wonderful though winter was getting ready to say good bye in a week or two. I started loving the warmth and tried to shut my eyes… then all of a sudden I sprung on my bed to see who did this…

More than the discovery of the blanket, I shouted in pain as my broken leg started paining like hell. I gained my mind after few seconds to see who put the blanket…

Oh it was she, she came early in the morning to see me…a wild thought fired in me, ‘Has she ever slept last night?’  When I tried to hide my emotions, my lips made a curve and welcomed her with a big smile.

I wanted to see her face, but she had fixed her beautiful eyes on the plaster which was made to heal the broken leg. I wanted to say, have a look at me, my pain will go…could not spell. Her eyes started pouring, which I really hate to see, but that time I felt good. Don’t know why, may be it made me feel that she still cares for me.

A drop dropped. ‘It will dissolve the plaster’, I teased.

‘Idiot’, she said and punched slowly.

‘Aahh!’ I faked pain.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry…..ry’ at least ten times she told by heart.

‘It’s ok’, I could not stopped smiling revealing it’s fake. She raised her face; I could see the broad temple.

‘You haven’t changed a bit, still the same idiot.’

‘Yeah, I am the same, at least for you.’ I stressed the last few words.

My mom came in smiling. Her smile even grew big after seeing her. ‘You are so early!’ my mom asked casually.

‘Aunty, I could not sleep last night, thinking about this idiot.’ I marveled at her frankness. ‘You carry on aunty, I will be here,’ she said. My mom smiled and said, ‘I know’, while leaving the room.

I was literally bored to spell the same thing, how the accident happened, when someone come to visit me as a goodwill geasture. But I was enthusiast like a kid to tell my so called adventure to her. She was all ears, fixing her eyes at mine. Nothing would have motivated than her black eyes to stretch my story at all possible angels, true and false at sometime.

She closed her eyes and uttered ‘aah’ when I told about the number of stitches… I felt somehow guilty to make her feel that way, and closed the adventure episode and started talking about her and him, his boy friend, bloody demon.

When I exhausted my little brain with the unwanted gossip, she knew that too, she started. ‘Don’t talk all this bulls**t. Can’t you keep your mouth closed for a moment?’ She saw me like a school teacher asking some naughty students to keep their mouth shut. Those students must be idiots who keep quite with this loving gesture of silence… I kept my index finger sealing my lips…..

‘Good boy,’ she said……  She has not changed a bit. The same killing orders…same silky hairs and same dimple when she moves her cheek even if for a shy smile…

After a pause, I resumed by saying, ‘I think you know better ways to make my mouth shut,’ felt awkward after touching the weak thread. I turned my face away.

She paused for few moments, and then smiled back. Girls are the best in switching the topics. I had to return to her face when she tingled her bangles in front of me.

‘So tell me about your life at Hyderabad. We haven’t met for months, what’s going on there at Hyderabad? Have you got any hariyalis (she calls all beautiful girls as hariyalis)?’ Asked all these in one go like she was in a hurry or maybe she wanted to change the topic as soon as possible.

‘It’s all fine,’ I answered the two questions with three words.

‘How come you are so miser in choosing words,’ she pretended to be surprised when we both knew it was otherwise.

‘So, do you have a girlfriend?’

I shook my head.

‘You should get one. It wonderful to be in love. A feeling even better than dreams.’   She told.

‘It’s wonderful when the other has the same feeling,’ I regretted on choice of words instantly.

She looked at my eyes. I turned towards the window and focused on two birds chirping contineosly and caring each other; I imagined, the cute one being she, and the other…..

After a pause, she said, ‘you can find someone nice, if you open up.’

‘I don’t need,’ I told still looking at the window; the two birds were still chirping on the branch. What the birds talk…

She held my chin and turned my face towards her. ‘You have a good job, fat salary. I will be just a school teacher uttering A B C D. You can get someone better.’

‘Someone better than you?’ I said.

‘Absolutely,’ she said.

‘That’s not possible,’ before she could answer I dialed my cousin’s mobile to drop her at her place, although I knew she had all the time on Sunday and her parents won’t mind a little knowing she is at my place.

I was quite, she too. Sometimes being quite makes you hear the storm. I was quite okay with the storm at any form, but her silence was killing…

I opened my laptop and started showing some dumb useless pictures to her to avoid any more talk. When she wanted to say something, I intentionally diverted the topic and prayed for my idiot cousin to come early.

My cousin came greeted her. She stood up to go, but suddenly told to my cousin, ‘Go and start the car, I am coming.’

She turned to me and said, ‘Don’t tell me that you still have feelings for me?’

I swallowed hard, faked a smile and told, ‘No, not at all, …….it’s over,’ and offered for a hand shake without looking at her eyes.

I didn’t know what else to do. She came forward, kissed on my forehead and whispered, ‘Take care.’

…waiting of Kurukshetra

I am Kurukshetra, the battle ground. I have seen 16 days of great war, the Mahabharat, the war of honour. But today is different, though I have no personal agenda, still I prefer to pause for a moment for someone who made me proud dying here.

…17th day over. Kurukshetra battleground is mourning on the demise of the great Karna. Mourning is not for the sake of his demise, these kind of warriors are born to honour the death, the mourn is for the reason that the great warrior could not get his due identity and the honour in his lifetime he deserves.

His mother, Kunti, could not dare to cut the rope of societal prestige, and his father, the Sun, could not find time from his busy schedule of charioting the galaxy to make others alive. Whom do I ask, if there is one who is guilty in the birth of Karna, then who he/she is? I am sure, Karna himself is not guilty. But through out his life he got punished for the sin he has never committed. Being the son of a charioteer (low cast) is not an act of shame. But if he was born in the low cast and got recognized as a Kshatriya (higher cast), then it would have been an insult to his mother…because, a mother has no cast…she is for sure far above it.

Hey Sun God, your son will be a question for the societies in the future. as when someone has no control over his/her birth, then why he/she get the punishment for that. But I am sure…in certain point of time, in a different identity, in a different era….you and Knunti have to take the brave step…you both have to stop the way you have abandoned Karna in Dwapar yuga…I, the poor battle ground Kurukshetra is waiting for that day.