The Confession - John Grisham

One of those books that really gets you thinking about what’s right and what’s not.

The book is based on the story of Donte Drumm, a high school football star with a perfect family and promising career. Until the town was shaken with the violent rape and murder of high school cheerleader Nicole Yarber. A black man arrested for the rape and murder of a white girl, Donte’s case was a defeated one even before it began.

Based in Slone, Texas, the story describes how Drumm is convicted of a crime he didn’t commit and placed on death row. As he awaits execution, the real killer, Travis Boyette, looks on, waiting for the police and prosecution to correct their mistake. Nine years later, he is dying of an inoperable brain tumor and sets out to clear his slate, and save an innocent man’s life.

The novel describes the distress of the two families- Donte’s and Nicole's. It details the fight by Donte’s lawyer, Robbie Flak, and pastor Keith Schroeder whom Boyette approached when he decided to come clean and tell the truth.

Politics, bureaucracy and racial prejudices ensure Drumm does not get exonerated. He is led to the chamber, and executed. Quite a surprise for the readers who are by this point, completely convinced that Donte is innocent. 

Although Donte is exonerated post humously, the death penalty policy still managed to take another innocent man’s life.

Dont get me wrong, I was all for capital punishment up until now. I can come up with all sorts of arguments in its favour - message to the society, closure for the victims, costs associated with life imprisonment as opposed to death penalty, the list goes on.

Besides, the statistics on innocent executions weren’t as high as death penalty abolitioners make them sound.

And up until now, that was all they meant for me - statistics. Numbers.

There was no face to the names, no stories behind these numbers.

Reading this story of wrongful execution changed that.

Donte walked into the station to answer a few questions, and never got out again. His father died while he was still serving time. He couldn’t hug his mother for nine years. His last words before he got the needle were still a fight to maintain his innocence - a promising future ruined thanks to jail snitches, petty high school rivalry and the desire of those in power to pin the blame on someone. Anyone.

Sure its expensive and perhaps even dangerous to keep death row criminals on life imprisonment instead. But is it worth more than an innocent person’s life? And that of their loved ones?  Is it right to justify murder with another murder? Or is it just the easy way out? "The guy is dead - case closed."

Capital punishment is certainly not a question that can be answered in a day’s time. It’s been a hot topic of debates for years, and will probably continue to be. 

But I’m no longer certain which side I am on...

"The future is scary. But you can't just run back to the past because it's familiar. Yes, it's tempting... But it's a mistake ... " - Robin Scherbatsky

So I received a text from him today morning. And now I'll probably finally call him up and talk to him on the phone today evening.

Now the thing is, I do want to talk to him. No doubt about that. But I am afraid of what that phone call might trigger. I haven't talked to him in so long, and now suddenly, it's like old times again. What if that spark is still there? What if I haven't gotten over him in the first place? And I've only been thinking I have cos things have been so different lately...


And I've been going over and over this since morning. And I think I've finally understood what I'm so worried about. It's not like I ll feel that way about him again or anything. I do realise its stupid and impractical and will never really work, so its senseless to put myself through that again.


The reason I might start feeling that way is because being with him means I don't have to worry about being with someone else. Yes, I know it sounds stupid, but hear me out!

Ever since we broke up, I've lost that little comfortable place I used to run to every time things went wrong. I'm afraid of trying new things and taking chances. The very prospect of liking someone again terrifies me cos it won't work out and I'll end up unhappy. But when it comes to this guy, I knew pretty much where and how things will be. It's as if all this time I've been treading unknown territory, trying to make it by myself, and then suddenly I get the option of running back to a past I knew.

The future is unknown and unpredictable, and I don't have the slightest idea how I'll make it by myself. And that scares the hell out of me.And now, I'm afraid I'll run back to the past cos its familiar.
"Yes, its tempting,
But it's a mistake ..."

You won't be his first, his last, or his only. He's loved before, and he will love again ... But if he loves you now, what else matters ? He's not perfect and neither are you, which both of you will never be. But if he makes you laugh, at least once causes you to think twice, and he admits to being human and to making mistakes, hold on to him and give him all you've got. He's not going to quote poetry, and he isn't going to be thinking about you every single moment of every single day, but he will give you a part of him, that he knows you can break. Don't hurt him, don't change him, don't expect too much from him. But smile when he makes you happy, cry when he makes you sad, and miss him when he's not there with you ...

PS : I Miss You ..

I miss you when something really good happens, 

because you're the one I want to share it with.

I miss you when something is troubling me,

because you're the one who understands me so well.

I miss you when I laugh and cry,

because I know that you are the one that makes my laughter grow, and my tears disappear.

I miss you all the time,

but I miss you the most when I lay awake at night, 

and think of all the wonderful times that we spent with each other, 

for those were some of the best and most memorable moments of my life ...

Live the Dream ...

Have you ever woken up to the morning sunshine

And still not felt the warmth?

Ever felt that the fire you had inside

Somehow just got lost?

Do you remember your childhood days,

When dreams used to light up your way?

Did you grow up just to lose it all?

And watch it disappear in the haze?

Burying those times, as life moved on

You chose the beaten track

Missing out on what you want

Can you say you've never looked back?

So just this once, wake up to be who you want

And pave the path yourself

Dare to chase those dreams you saw

Bear a heart with no regrets

Let yourself fly azure

Above thriving fields and golden sands

And far above, feel the heavens bow

As you decide to take the chance

Live your life, live it now

Let your choices guide you

And let the inferno of your passions

Leave a blazing trail behind you...

~M

....

So I am finally going to have a blog entry that's not centered around my ntu life or my (non existent) love life. This one's about someone way more important - my grandmother. I lost my grandmother over a month ago, while I was still in ntu. For the first time in 20 years, I didn't get a call from her on my birthday. I thought I'd talk to her when I was back in Delhi, except it was too late by then.

If there's one thing I've always been afraid of, since the day I decided to leave for Sg, its a situation like this. I don't mind missing my cousins weddings, or the birth of my nieces and nephews - you get to make up for that when you're back. Four months really isn't that long. And there's always mobile phones and webcams and skype. But for something like this, you cant make up for it. Ever.
Had I known back in January that it was the last time I was meeting her ... well, I don't know, it would have been different.

I still remember those times when she used to wait for me at the bus stop. No matter the scorching heat or the peak cold, I could always see my grandmother's smiling face as I stepped down from my school bus.

And whenever I went to visit her, even before we reached, she'd be toiling in the kitchen preparing something special for her granddaughter who met her once in four months.
Don't get me wrong. I am glad she didn't suffer at the end. And given her precarious medical condition, I think its all for the best.

But it still gives me an empty feeling when I walk into her room or when I look at her photo in my drawing room. A feeling that makes me realise she's really gone. Makes me realise just how much I miss her ...

Happy Birthday ...

“... and somewhere in between all our long talks, and crazy jokes, and stupid fights, and random arguments ...”