Lights. Camera. RCNM.

We all think of Christmas as a joyous and merry occasion where you get gifts from a fat man dressed in red known as Santa. We cut cakes ,put up a Christmas tree, etc etc. One thing that we have all heard about is the naughty list as that it was the main tool used by our parents to blackmail us into doing chores like cleaning up the room. Well the normal perception of people(especially kids) is that if you're on the naughty list then you won't get a gift.  This, however, is not the case in  Finland. In Finland being in the naughty list means being tortured by Santa, or as the Finnish prefer to call him , Krampus .There are 2 entities who take the spotlight during Christmas in Finland, namely, Krampus( The Santa that punishes kids in the naughty list) and Joulupukki (The Santa that does standard Santa stuff). I'll be talking about Krampus today as he is infinitely more interesting than Joulupukki. Krampus is basically the total opposite of how we im...

Arun was woken up almost instantaneously when the thunderous sound engulfed his ears. Almost a second later a bright white beam of lightning appeared, seeming as if it momentarily tore the sky open. He saw a boy standing beside him, looking at the distant horizon. “The tree’s collapsed. The rock’s slippery. No chance of descent.” Told the boy, his gaze still fixed. Arun sighed. Memories of the night before infiltrated his mind like that of a faded dream. He and his friend, Wasim, had gone hiking into the deep forest that lay behind Arun’s newly bought farmhouse. As rumors went, that forest was an epitome of nature’s wrath. It seemed a great plan to Arun, though Wasim remained skeptical. Both had been adequately warned that the forest was only for experienced trekkers to deal with, but the vim of their youth blinded them. They had left the house full of zest and everything went just perfect. But when dusk fell, sudden heavy rain and lightning came and it seemed as...

“It’s of no use, Michael,” said the usual pessimistic voice of my assistant manager. “The company – it’s in losses. We have to close down.” Alas, his words fell upon deaf ears. My body was shutting down. Starting a company at the ripe age of twenty five only to have it close down a year later was too much for my ambitious heart to take. I simply nodded at the balding man across me. I had failed my company. I had failed my colleagues. I had failed myself. Thoughts of desperation whirled through my mind. The next few moments were a blur. Before I knew what I was doing, my legs took me to the exit of the office building and I soon found myself walking towards the Golden Gate Bridge. The chilled San Francisco wind sent shivers down my spine, but I kept walking, as if in a trance. You’re a waste of opportunity. You don’t deserve to be a leader. All you do is mess things up. Maybe. But maybe, if I were given a second chance, I could make things right. If only I were a be...

Inspector Edmund Reid Whitechapel H division, Metropolitan police, London. November 9th 1888. My Dear friend Edmund, I’m pleased to inform you that I have come to a decision. We shallplay a little game. I fully intend to make this a mutually beneficial arrangement. If you win, which you sir, shall surely not, I will confess to you all my crimes. However if I win, which I surely shall, I want immunity.  This day, the 9th of November 1888, I shall be committing my 5th and last murder. I intend to murder yet another woman, a certain Mary Jane Kelly.  She too like my other victims commits sacrilege on a daily basis, pollutes the very institution of marriage. I shall educate her. I shall wash her sins away in her own warm blood. To make this little game of ours more interesting for me, I shall not change my modus operandi.  I searched for this consummate fool of a woman in many of the shady back alleys of London. And being an arrant flirt as I am,...

That morning I was over the top, visiting my family after a whole year of hard work. Just holding the glistening boarding pass in my hands, among my fingers gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. “Oceanic 815” it said “From New York to Los Angeles”. Who would have thought that something so joyous would turn into something so perilous? Before I knew it we hit turbulence... And suddenly everything seemed hazy. Darkness hovered over my eyes. The last thing I can vaguely remember was the pilot trying to comfort his passengers by saying that the aviation control crew was trying its best to rescue us. All I remember after that was a ‘thud’ that marked our crash landing and that I lay unconscious. I finally woke up after…was it hours? Days? Months perhaps? I did not know and there was no way to find out. As I picked myself up and the vision cleared a tad the sight made me wish that I had never woken up. All I could see around me was sheer destruction. A hundred and eighty voya...

The orange of the setting sun dazzled scintillatingly against the white of the icy slopes. The glacial breeze howled against the thick canvas of the tent. The ink in Ethan's pen had long since frozen. He took a pencil and began to write in his travel diary: Day 40 "What a long day! I'm too tired to write about today in detail and in any case, James is insisting on setting out before dawn so I should sleep now. If all goes smoothly, tomorrow I shall finally reach the top of the world. Mom and Dad, at last, I shall fulfill your dream. Just one more day, and I will have conquered Everest!" He stowed away the diary and wished James a good night. James, the guide, who hadn't removed the balaclava off his face since they had met, responded with his customary grunt - he never spoke unless it was absolutely imperative.  20 minutes later, Ethan was fast asleep - snoring weakly in the thin air. Stealthily, James fetched the diary and, in the waning...

ROSE Sweat dripped off her forehead, some seeped into her eyes making them sting sharply. She stumbled helplessly over fallen branches which snapped harshly beneath her bare feet. The pale moonlight lit up the forest floor but only enough for her to see a few meters ahead of her. "Rose" A cold gust of wind made her turn around to see where the voice had come from."Rose!" A voice shrieked in the distance. ‘Aunt Iris!'' Rose shouted but she produced no sound. Suddenly a hand peeled around the trunk of the tree. Rose watched in horror as a tall man slowly made his way around the tree and into her line of vision. His face was hidden by a dark shadow. "Run!'' She jumped at her Aunt's shriek. The man began to take a few steps towards her."Rose" Her Aunt's voice seemed closer this time and Rose quickly looked past the man to see if she could see her. The man looked up at her and the shadow slowly faded away from his face...