Overtime - Part 6

She sat with downcast eyes for a long time before she started to speak. He did not interrupt her chain of thoughts. He did not want to be coming out as pressing her too hard. Once again he waited. This time for her to break her silence.

The story over, he did not know how to react. Was he supposed to feel relieved? If so, he wasn't feeling what he was supposed to be feeling. In fact he was feeling quite uneasy. Getting to know about her and her issues seemed to create a kind of bond between us. A bond that was always going to exist. There is something about the human psyche. It probes and prods, knowing not exactly what it is looking for. The curiosity factor gets the better of any other factor. Its like you cannot rest until you have reached to the bottom of whatever it is that is being held from you. But once you do reach the bottom, swimming the murky waters of a person's past, you are left wondering if it had been such a good idea to have wanted so desperately to know about them. Knowing about a person, their feelings, their emotions, their past leaves you with a feeling of responsibility towards that person. You cannot just ignore what the person is going through because you yourself are overwhelmed with it. You have to be there for them and sometimes you lack it in you to be there for them. You know you can be utterly useless in handing any kind of support. But you cannot just walk away. That would seem like you are deserting them, running away from them after they have bared their soul to you. In simple words, being a jerk! And you cannot handle that title against you, now can you? You feel like an animal trapped by its own greed.

Knowing what was bothering Maya had seemed like the be-all and end-all of his existence for the past few days. Now that he had the knowledge, the question was what was he going to do? How was he expected to handle this? He had absolutely no clue about what to say, what not to say. So he just kept quiet. He just kept quiet as she told him that she had undergone a divorce a few days back. He kept quiet when she broke down saying how much she loved her husband and how hard this was for her. He also kept quiet when she told him the reason for her divorce. He did not know which side to take when she asked him whether he thought it was her fault. He kept quiet because he did not know. She kept looking at him with pleading in her eyes, as if to say, please tell me it is not my fault. Somehow he could bring himself to say that. She kept looking - he kept shuffling his feet - still keeping quiet.

"Maybe its time to go..." she said.
"Huh?"
"Looks like I have managed to ruin a perfectly good evening for you...I won't prolong it any longer."
"Its not that Maya.." He had no explanations to give her. How could he tell her, that he was so confused and had never found himself in that kind of a situation before? He was not an articulate person and there was no use trying to be one. So he stopped trying to offer any explanation for his attitude. It was another matter that he did not have one to offer.

"Maybe I have overwhelmed you with all my problems. But somehow talking to you about all this has soothed me in some vague way though I have no clue why."

He had no clue either. In fact he would expect her to feel miffed. But the poor girl seemed to be feeling better, maybe because she wanted to talk to someone about it. He wished he could have been a better listener, had been more supportive of her situation. But he found himself sorely lacking on that front. He wished he could soothe her frayed nerves. Tell her everything was going to be ok. But those thoughts remained just that - mere thoughts. He was never good at expressing his feeling and this situation wasn't different either. In fact it was worse. A woman who he did not know beyond a few conversations and emails was laying bare her entire private life to him and all he could do was gape.

"I am so sorry Maya...I..I..."
"You don't have to say anything. I think I understand!"
Did she? Did she really? He himself did not understand it, so could he dare to hope that she did understand it in some way that he didn't. Or maybe she was saying that to make him feel better. This was quite ironic, instead of him saying things to make her feel better; it was the other way around. What an idiot he was! He could not even utter a single word that would have made her feel better. So he said the only thing that came to his mind..

"Where do you want to eat?" he asked her.
"I think I will not be able to eat much after this and I would not want to ruin your dinner. So I shall get going..."
Stop her! You idiot! Tell her she would not be doing anything of that sort. But once again no words came out of his mouth.
She started to leave.
"Do you want me to..you know...umm..drop you home?" he asked. Only he knew how much effort that had taken.
She stopped. Of course, she was not going to take up the offer. You behave like an insensitive jerk and then you expect her to do this for you. You are such a looser - he heard himself say.
"Oh! Thank you so much. I don't think I am in a state to drive either!" her eyes sparkled and his discomfort seemed to thin a little. It was easier to handle things when she was being her normal vivacious self. On the other hand, he wanted to run a mile if she so much as looked down! Was he ever going to change? He thought to himself as he led her to his car.
(..to be contd)

Overtime - Part 5

Maya -
hmm..what after that. Was she still here or had she left?
It was 5. She might have left for all he knew.

Maya - Are you still there?
What would he say next if she confirmed that she was.
Ask her out for coffee? Dinner? What?

Oh boy! He wanted to laugh at himself. He could write all those official business emails, pages of them in like minutes and here he was taking forever trying to compose a one line email. And he was perspiring as well.
This should not be so difficult! But by Lord, it was. Focus now, he chided himself. This will not do, will not do at all. I am not a teenager who does not have a clue how to talk to a lady. He started to type with renewed enthusisasm. The problem was that he was an adult who did not have a clue on how to talk to a lady. He felt pretty lousy.

He tried to recall when the last time was when he had felt like this and the time he zeroed in was way, way back when he was just a kid and he had this huge crush on his elder sister's friend. Whenever he would hear his sister saying that her friend was going to visit, he would be a nervous wreck. He would try to hang around them when she was home but his nerve would fail him. He would find himself running in the opposite direction whenever he would see him. Worse, he realized that she had guessed about his infatuation and would try to talk to him and tease him. He would try his best to appear cool and composed but would come out looking like a complete idiot. She would giggle away and he would vow never to cross her path, until the next time his sister would announce her friends impending arrival. The charade would be repeated again. Even thinking about it made his cheeks burn! He had vowed he would never again be so embarassed in his life and had succeeded in doing so. Maybe it would be best to leave this where it was, instead of finding himself in a situation where he would least want to be in, he thought.

He discarded the unsent email.
This email has not been sent. Are you sure you want to close?
Well, he was sure. Yes, he clicked.
I am much more of an chicken than I thought I was, he told himself as he started to pack. Better to leave than make an even bigger fool of myself to myself he thought. He turned and she was standing right behind him!

"No overtime today?" she asked.
"oh!No . Work accomplished around here. Nothing left.."
"I heard some very good things being said about you!"
"Well! You should not believe everything you hear you know.."
"Yeah but I want to this time around. Anyways I was leaving myself and wanted to say hi! to you." She stood there smiling at him.
Ask her out, you dumb idiot, he almost said out aloud.
"Hi" he said simply. He wondered if there was some way one could strangle oneself!
"Is that all you are going to say?" she laughed.
That did it. He had to say/do something that would not show to her what a chicken he was.
"Is there something else you want me to say?" There! Smooth and Cool!
"well yes!"
"and what would that be?"
"Anything that goes beyond a monsyllable!"
It was his turn to laugh.
"I am sorry. You just caught me by surprise!"
"Well I shall wait for the surprise to wane off then!"
"Well you don't have to any longer. Its already gone!"
"Great!"
"So..you are leaving early too..!"
"Yeah same with me. Nothing much I could accomplish.."
"Any plans for tonight?" His heart was booming so loud as he put out that question, he was surprised she did not seem to hear it.
"No, nothing special"
"Maybe we could get a bite of dinner then..if you don't mind that is". He waited. This was it! He had done it. Now the ball was in her court. Atleast he would not have to berate himself for being a coward and not going beyond a hi with this beautiful woman. Yes, she was beautiful. In an uncharacterisitc way, a very intelligent looking woman and that more than anything else sealed her beauty to him. The long strangd of hair escaping her neatly done pony tail, the aquiline nose that might have prevented some people from terming her gorgeous, the small but expressive eyes, the full mouth and her voice which was clear and authoritative and the grace with which she carried herself. Simple but stunning! She might decline for all he knew, but something told him that she would not. And she did not.

The deed done, he was anxious that everything should go smooth. He had been very surprised to note that she lived a couple of blocks away from his place. He offered to pick her up. She agreed but on one condition. That they walk. She loved to walk she told him. Especially that time of the year when the air was so crisp. There was a slight chill in the air and when the wind blew you could feel the cold. She was right. This is refreshing, he thought as he made his way towards their meeting point. A park which stood midway from both their places. He looked at the watch. He was a few minutes early. She had not arrived. He sat on the bench, thankful for the time where he could catch his breath. He had been on the edge from the time she had accpeted his dinner proposal. He somehow wanted everything to be perfect. The restaurant, the food , the weather, the walk and he himself too!

Ah! There she was walking towards him. She was more formally dressed in a simple short white kurta and a rich red salwar. Her red dupatta flew behind her and he watched mesmerised as it swayed behind her as if providing her with a background score. Her hair was loosely tied and she looked much younger. What a sight! He thought, as he got up to greet her.

That's when he observed her face closely and to his horror discovered that it seemed swollen and red. Like she had been crying for a while. He felt deflated. Just when he had been thinking that everything was going smooth and that he wasn't feeling as nervous, this had to happen. He once again went back to feeling highly uncomfortable. A cheerful woman was so much more easier to handle than a morose one, he sighed to himself. He had not expected this. He had thought that their date would be as breezy and delightful as their meeting a while earlier. So much seems to have changed in a couple of hours. He walked towards her hesistantly, the spring in his step which had been so obvious the past 2 hours clearly missing.

What was with her? One moment she gave you the impression that she was on top of the world and the next you found her at the bottom of a pit!

She saw him and tried to smile. She could not and tears streamed out of her eyes.

Boy! This was worse than he had thought. She had thankfully stopped to cry, the first time when he had met her. Now it seemed like his presence was triggering her tears. He swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat. He did not like this one bit. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to behave? Suddenly he felt anger towards her. She should not be doing this to him. She did not know him well enough to start bawling at the sight of him. Well, she wan't bawling but she was not giggling with happiness either. She was near him now and he felt very bad about himself. She seemed to be genueinely unhappy over something. Its not like you can control your sadness, he reminded himself. He should be showing more restrain and understanding, he decided. And yes, what he had read about Film Heroines crying a lot in movies because they looked beautifuk doing it must be true. This woman surely did!

"Maya! Whatever happened to you?" he asked.
"Arman..I am so sorry!"
"Don't be. Just tell me what it is that is bothering you so much.."
She kept quiet.
"Come on Maya, you can't be crying in front of me and then ask me to overlook it as if nothing happened.."
He bit his tongue. He hoped he did not make his frustration with her obvious.
She kept looking downwards.
"I am so sorry..!"
"Are you going to say something other than that?" he asked. He knew he was not being very sensitive, but he did not know what else to do. It was not like she was giving him any options. Oh! For Christ sake woman, tell me he wanted to scream, but held back. The poor woman seemed badly shaken. Worse than the first time he had seen her. She was sobbing now and he felt like a neandathreal. He did not know what to say to her. This seemed to be more often the case than not. He waited for her sobs to die down.

He led her to a bench nearby. They sat down. She seemed composed now.
"So are you going to tell me?"
"Yes" she answered, barely audible.

(..to be contd)

Overtime - Parts 1 to 4

He listened intently. It was there again. The sound of someone crying. Who could it be? he thought to himself. He glanced over to his watch. It was late, past 6 O'clock. Who could be at work now? he thought. Other than himself that is. He always worked late. Having no one in the office seemed to give the cells in his brain a sort of kick in the pants. They would be working overtime just like him. He could get half day's work accomplished in about an hour. So he would just laze around mostly during the day, socializing with this person and that and work a couple of works overtime to finish the workload. No wonder then that he was making such rapid strides within the company. On one hand he was a people person and on the other one who did his work very well. Most of the times more than what was demanded of him. He was a bachelor - no responsibilities at home. He had his sights set on being the VP of his department and that was when he was going to think of anything else in his life. Marriage, responsibilities, vacations, friends and whatever else that his mother always nagged him out.

As usual, he was staying late tackling an issue which was taking more time to sort than would normally when he heard the muffled sounds. The hair on his back stood up when the noise reached his ears for the first time. He had been working for almost half a decade and not once had he found anyone staying back at work at such an unearthly hour. The night-watchman would make his presence known from time to time but it wasn't time for him to come yet. Maybe he is early today, he told himself, as he turned his attention to the problem at hand, calming his frayed nerves.

He was just about to make a breakthrough when the sound came again. This time loud and clear. Definitely there was someone else in the building. Not only that but this someone else seemed to be female and even more shockingly it seemed to be crying. It was a very uneasy kind of situation to be caught up in. The gentleman in him could not ignore the sobbing and the clueless gentleman in him did not know what to do. Just like the problem at hand which was proving to be a difficult task, the decision of what to do next where the crying was concerned was no less difficult. He strained his ears to determine which direction the sound was coming from. Nothing. He gave a sigh of relief. Maybe the woman had left, Thank God. He smiled broadly. This also seemed to fall in the category of - you give a problem some time and it shall solve itself. He looked at his work. That was one problem that was not going to solve itself. He sighed as he got back to work.

It was a full half an hour later that he heard the sound of a door. So the lady had not left yet. It was almost 8 o'clock. What was she doing at such a late hour, presumably alone in such a big office? He heard the shuffling of feet and then huge sobs. It was like she had been trying to leave and then the control gave away and she had started to weep uncontrollably. Trust some problems to come back bigger and badder when they are ignored. He shook his head. He simply could not ignore the sobs this time around. They were too loud and too close for comfort. He got up slowly pushing the chair back, casting a last reluctant look at his work as he made his way towards the point of disturbance.

As he had imagined there she sat, on the ground, her face buried in her hands. Who was this person he thought as she came into view. He could not see her face. Her long loose hair fell all over her. She was dressed in a traditional Sari - a rarity these days and had a purse slung on her shoulder. He suddenly felt very akward. Maybe he should just mind his business and slink away from there. Obviously the woman thought that there was no one else in the building besides her. It would be very embarassing for her to realize that her soap-opera performance actually had an audience. He tried to tip-toe away but it was too late. She had heard him.

She got up sharply and turned to face him.

"I...err..." he could not say anything.

Her face was all red and flustered. That face could well have been a beauteous one but he could not make it out swollen, puffed and red as it was.
"I..err..." she said.
He cursed himself. He should have trusted his first instinct and stayed put instead of being curious and trying to be a gentleman. What was it about trying to do the right thing that it always seemd to land him in a soup. This was easily the most embarassing situation of his life as it must be for the woman too.
"I was err...just working and heard a noise and came to check it out..." he finally managed to say. She was looking at him with fear. He wanted to assure her that he worked in the same place and was not some kind of intruder or worse still some kind of attacker.
"You work pretty late..." she said.

It almost seemed like she was saying why do you have to work so late. SO much for trying to be a gentleman he thought.

"Why..yes...err..I mean..I do" he answered. What the heck was he getting defensive about and why in the whole world was he feeling like he was doing something wrong. He had heard a noise and had come to check that out. Nothing wrong in that definitely.

"I thought there was no one around..." The same accusatory tone. This was getting out of hand.
"But I was wrong..." she stood there chewing her lip. The tears had miraculously dried out.
"Yes you were..." he answered. "I work late everyday" he said. STOP IT! He said to himself. "Why am I offering her explanations? Do I have to prove to her that I was not commiting a sin working late? Arrrgh..."
"Huh?" she said. " I thought you were saying something..."
"Nothing. Are you all right?" he asked gingerly.
"Yes!" came the curt reply.
"All right. I was just checking. Not everyday that you hear someone crying in the office late at night..."
"I was not crying..." she said.
"uh-oh. So it was not you?" he asked with a wink.

She smiled. Ah! What a difference a slight reversal of the facial muscles could accomplish! From being a sore sight, her visage was now a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes brightened, a few strands of hair fell over her face which she was trying to push back with her hand as the lips curved into a smile.
"Yes it was me..." she said, her tone taking on some normalcy at last.
"Phew!" he let out a sigh of relief.
"You sound relieved?"
"You bet I am. I thought you would mistake me for an intruder or something and deck me or call the cops on me..."
"Why would I do that?"
"The tone of your voice suggested that you were going to do that.."
"Oh! I am sorry. I did not mean to. Its just that you caught me by surprise and yes I did get a little suspicious..." she said adjusting the strap of the purse on her shoulder.

"Are you new around here?" he asked.
"Yes. I just joined last week..."
"That explains it."
"Explains what?"
"That you do not know that I work overtime. I have been working like that for about 5 years now. That also explains why I have not seen you before..."
She nodded.
The conversation had come to a halt. He did not know what he was supposed to do. What else was there to say other than intruding in her personal issues? A 'why were you bawling?' might not be received in the spirit it was intended. It could be mistcontrued into thinking that curiosity was the cause of it. So he decided to keep quiet and both of them stood facing eather not knowing what else to say.

"I was about to go out..." she said.
"If you don't mind, I would like to accompany you. I would not think it is safe to be venturing into the huge parking lot all by yourself and it has such bad lighting. Could you maybe wait a second?" he asked.

"Oh! Thank you so much. I wanted to ask you if you would accompany me but I did not know if that would be impertinent..." she replied.

He hurried over to his desk. The work still stood open, mocking at him. He just turned away after collecting his things. He walked out. He saw that she had made herself more presentable in the meantime. What is it with woman, he thought..even in the worst of times, they have to look good. He was chuckling to himself, as they walked out into the night.

They walked to the parking lot, not saying much. The one thing he came to know was that her name was Maya and she worked in the Purchasing Department. She had been working with the company for a while but she had just joined the one at the present location. He did not venture to ask anything more. He just followed her as she led him to the spot where her car was parked. It was the onset of another awkward moment. He thought as to what he should be saying to her. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She seemed in well-enough spirits than what she had been. On the other hand, any spirit would be better than the condition he had found her in. Her eyes were downcast, he could see that she was thinking deeply and was walking automatically. He even had doubts if she remembered his presence next to her. Everything seemed so eerie. It was an underground parking lot. A huge one which looked skeletal with not a car in sight except Maya's lone one. His car was parked further away since he came in late. Their footsteps echoed as they walked. Sometimes in unsion, sometimes completely out of sync. The clakkity-clack of her high heels and the more muffled but strong sounds of his leather soles. She had her keys in her hand - the jingle of them mingled with the other sounds to create some sort of background music to their long walk.

In a couple of minutes that had managed to stretch his nerves taught, a snazzy yellow sports cars - gleaming, new and haughty came into view. Wow! he went instinctively. Too late by the time he caught himself - the expression of awe was already out. She laughed. She seemed to enjoy his reaction, was even expecting it maybe - "Its just a car you know.." she said.
"It is a sacrilege to call this beauty 'just a car'" he said, the awe still in his voice.

"Well,well,well - it is just that a car. A car that manages to evoke lots of admiration from a lot of quarters for sure, but when it comes down to it, it just does what any other car does..." she said.
"Well it might, but still it is just not any other car..."
"Hey snap out of it will ya! Good Lord I feel like a non-entity when I am near the car. Almost makes me feel jealous...can you imagine that? Jealous of a thing!" she said thoughtfully.
Yikes! What was he doing? Staring at the car like a kid ogling at candy. Boy! oh! Boy! just when he thought he had grown out of such things...but it was such a stunning car...
"Oh! I am sorry if I offended you. Its just that when you confront such beauty you are bound to acknowledge its power, otherwise it is like insulting it.." he said with a wink in his eye.
She laughed.
"You are waving Road-Romeo philosophy in my face..."
"Well it is philosophy..the origins might be humble, but the philosophy is true!"
"Indeed it is..." she said, a thoughtful look dawning on her face.
"oh come on now..no need to get so serious and think about it. I was just showing off what a jerk I could be..." he said.
"That you have been not. In fact far from it. A perfect gentleman, taking the trouble to walk me so far..."
"Well it was worth the trouble..." he said, his teeth flashing. She shot him a quick look. He pointed to the car. She burst out laughing...
"and for once I thought someone was talking about me in presence of my car. I should have known..."
"You should give more credit to your thoughts." he simply said.
This time she did not look back as she opened the door.
"You want a ride back to your car?" she asked.
"Do I want to be in heaven for a few moments. Why sure, I would!" he replied.
She was still laughing as he made a child-like run towards the passenger door. The interior of the car was as stunning as its exterior. Plush leather upholstery, a dash-board with all the trimmings and more, an exotic but not overpowering scent...he continued to look at with some kind of exaggerated reverence.
"Don't start the engine too fast..." he said.
"Why not?" she asked.
"I might get a heart-attack when this beauty speaks..." he replied.
"I have half a mind to ask you to get out..." she said looking in front of her.
"Then why don't you?" he asked.
"That I don't know.." she replied and started the car and was off in a second.
Before he could even start to enjoy the exhiliration of the ride, they reached the spot where his car was parked.
"Good-bye and thank you for the ride" he said as the automatic seatbelt slid away from him.
"Good-bye and I should be the one thanking you.." she said as she extended her hand. Was it his imagination or did her hand shake a little?
"You sure, you are ok?" the slight shake of her prompting him to ask the questions.
"Oh yes! I am...once again thank you.."
"Is it anything I could help you with..." he had to ask that. He just could not ignore what had prompted their meeting that night, now could he?
"huh?" she seemed surprised that he had referred to the topic, one that both of them had safely dodged for so long.
"oh! Nothing serious. I am a very emotional person. Even small things manage to drown me in my own tears. But thanks for asking..."
"Well if you need anything, or just a walk to the parking lot, you know where to find me.."
"Thanks.."
"Is that all you are going to say?"
"Well I am in a very embarassing position..what else can I say?"
"Ok ok I shall end your embarassment and get my butt out of this most comfortable position it has found itself unexpectedly in!" he said.
She laughed.
"I hope that takes care of your embarassment.." he said as he hopped off the car.
"Maybe I will see you tomorrow.." he said.
"Maybe!" she said as she sped away.

Wow! What a combination he thought as he watched the car and its owner vroom out of sight!
There was a slight chill in the air as he got into his car. He smiled as he remembered her 'its just a car' to his reaction as he spotted the car.

"Just a car indeed..." he thought as he started his own car. Now this could be termed just a car, he thought as he too sped away into the night.

All along the way, he thought about her. More importantly about what must have been bothering her. Suddenly it seemed like the most important thing to uncover - as to why this attractive and successful woman was bawling her lungs out in an empty office. Somehow he did not want to believe what she had told him about herself. That it was a minor thing and she was prone to tears. Somehow it struck him that it must've been something more substantial for a person to break down with the assumption that no one was around. Something told him that she would never let anyone watch her cry. That she recovered pretty fast from her predicament when he walked into the picture. He could still recollect the disbelief on her face as he made his presence felt. There was something more to the whole thing then what she had assured him to be and somehow he wanted to know. He was surprised with his own train of thought. Some vague woman crying in the office and his whole thoughts were on her and the reason for her state. Well, well, well life sure did seem to posess a very interesting way of throwing curve balls at you. Ones that you are least expecting. It would be very interesting to unravel this mystery called..what did she say her name was? Maya! The mystery of Maya...there! he had managed to make it more interesting with an intriguing title. The mystery of Maya was there to be unravelled and he was determined to do just that. He was already looking forward to seeing her the next day...


As he parked the car he scanned for the red sports car driving around in circles to find a parking place. That was one of the disadvantages of getting in late – the search for a parking place. No, no red sports car. She must come in later than I do, he thought as he hopped out of the car. It was going to be an interesting day.

Far from it. Though he made more trips away from his desk than he usually did, he could not spot her. He cursed himself for not asking which department she worked for. At least that would have given him some idea as to where she might have been seated. He only knew that she was a new recruit. She had been about to leave when he had spotted her, so he could not be too sure whether she worked somewhere near the area. It could go both ways. He sighed as he scanned cubicle after cubicle without any success. Good Lord! This was a huge building. It was almost akin to looking for a needle in a haystack. And then there was that work he had to complete like yesterday and he was still dawdling over it. He hurried to his desk. What are you doing, jackass? He chided himself as he returned to stare at his monitor. He tried to concentrate but all he could think about was what would be the best place to look for.

He decided to wait it out till the evening. If she did come in late, she would stay late like the previous day and it would be easier for him to seek her out with no one with a - what are you up to dude? Look on their face. He waited until everyone around him had left and then got up to do his round. What a striking contrast the place was from his walks in the morning. Everything was still. It was almost like the place had taken a pause. No chatter, no noisy keyboards, no giggling, no footsteps and definitely no sobs.

Boy, this building seemed to be like an overcrowded city. The cubicles closeted so tightly together, it was a wonder that anyone could get any work done. You could almost hear the breathing of the person sitting in the cubicle next to you. How was he able to function in a place like this? The distractions did not even register in his mind, till he thought about them now. No wonder he could get more work done when no one was around. It is incredible how our subconscious adjusts to the things around us without our conscious even realizing it. Its like you keep doing something without any comprehensible reason and one day you realize that there is a complete explanation for why you were doing what you were doing. And you are like - oh my God! So this is why...!

His thinking was degenerating into non-sense now. Or maybe he was making sense for the first time since he was thinking for the first time. How mechanical his life had become. Work and home. Work and Home. Sometimes go out with a few friends of his, pretend to have a good time with them, more for his own sake than theirs and once again back to the good ol'schedule of Work and Home taking comfort in the fact that he had not completely wasted the weekend. That he had gone out with his friends and had a good time, though if he had given some thought to it, he would have realized that he would have had a more enjoyable time left to himself. So he did not think, in fact forced himself not to think. He was scared his mother might be right. That it was time for him to get married. If he were dead, he would have turned over in his grave over that! He chuckled as he decided that the exercise was futile and it was time to leave. Once again without his work done. Ah Well! More overtime...tomorrow..he thought as he strode out.

The parking lot was empty except for his car. All his hopes came crashing down. He had been thinking of how it would be if he had found her car there, that he would wait for her there and then she would come out and he would act like he had got out just then and then they would meet. All that amounted to nothing now, as the lone car that stood in the lot was his. And to think at the beginning of the day, he had thought this was going to be an interesting day.

Why had Maya not come to work that day? He was more intrigued with her than ever. It had only been a week since she had started work and already she was taking off? Something was definitely amiss here. I hope she is all right, he thought. Suddenly he was concerned. Oh my God! What if..what if something had happened to her? Damn it! He did not even have any means to contact her. Maybe he should’ve asked for her telephone number or something. Thinking about what could and could not have happened was driving him nuts. The combination of possibilities, probabilities and what ifs were giving him a big headache. All this for a woman he had met for about 15 minutes! Hoo boy..He hoped fervently that he would meet her the next day if only to give some peace to his mind that was insisting on working overtime!

He forced himself not to stare at anything red in the parking lot. Today he was not going to be as dumb as he was yesterday. Today, he was going to walk to his desk, switch on his computer and concentrate on getting his work done. His boss had given a quizzical look when he had informed him that he would need a couple of days more to deliver the project. He was going to be damned if he was going to waste another second worrying about some stranger. A very attractive stranger, no doubt, but a stranger nonetheless. I hope I can run into her accidentally, at least. Just to see that she's doing all right. No more seeking around today, he told himself firmly as his screen flickered to life.

Sure enough, he found himself deeply immersed in his work. He felt proud of himself when he looked at the time. He had been working continuously for about 3 hours without even a thought of her crossing his mind. He was pleased, mighty pleased. Time for a break. He got up and went around meeting his co-workers he normally chatted around with. He thought of Maya a few more times, his eyes darting at any approaching figure. Well he was on a break, right? He thought about taking a walk through the purchasing department but decided against it. Later in the day, maybe, he told himself as he walked back to his desk.

He was browsing the Internet when his email window popped up. From: Maya S. To:Arman Q. He could not wait to open it.
The subject said Hi and inside was - just wanted to mail and see how you are doing.
A kind of relief washed over him. He felt the stress in his body leave him and he invariably relaxed. He had no idea he had been that tense. When Shyam had mentioned he looked a little uptight, he had laughed it off. But as he felt the knots in his shoulders loosen, he could see where Shyam might have gotten that impression. She was all right, now that he knew it, maybe he would be able to go through the rest of the day without seeming like he was carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders.

"I am doing good..How are the two of you doing?"
Pat came the reply, which was once again a question.
"Two of us?"
"Yes, your car and you..don't think I would forget you!"
"Oh! I would not think that..though both of us are doing great!"
"That's great. The parking lot was conspicuous by the absence of your beauty!"
Maybe he should not be sending her that. That would hint to her that he had been on the look out for her. He paused to think for a minute. Well why not? Anyone would be concerned when you escort a crying person to his or her car and they do not appear the next day. What was there to read in it? He clicked the send button.

"Yeah I took off yesterday. Had to take care of some things.."
"I hope they have been well taken care of!"
"I have tried my best. How have you been?"
"With no one to disturb my overtime, I have been doing great, though I was hoping there would be some kind of disturbance!"
"Well, don't count on it happening ever again"
"I won't!"
"Good - ok get back to work now...!"
"Same to you. See you around sometime!"
"Yeah. Bye"

So that was that. Email is one of the coolest things ever, he thought. You could sound so cool without much effort. You could put up a front and no one is looking into your eyes with a - I know you are feeling and saying different things. It’s easier to lie in emails and it’s easier to give an impression of being a cool dude without feeling like one. He was sure that if had been face to face with her, he would not have been able to hide his anxiety for her. She would have clearly seen that she had been on his mind and could possibly have even taken offence at his inquisitiveness over why she had not come to work the previous day. This had been the ideal way out. He had gotten what he wanted without even coming face to face with her. He must have been relieved. Oh! He was, no doubt but from time to time the relief gave away to certain anticipation. His eyes would dart to the mail icon from time to time, willing it to be there. He knew well enough that the conversation had come to an end, but he hoped that she might have something more to say. However insignificant...something that went like..oh! By the way...but seemed like his luck was running low. No such thing happened. He could feel the knots in his shoulders build up again!

The day had been productive. He had delivered the project in style, had to attend a couple of meetings where everyone had been impressed with the way he had tacked the issue at hand. His explanations had been lucid, his thinking clear, his voice authoritative as he imparted to his team members the gist of what he had accomplished. By any account, the whole thing had been a major success. He had even got a congratulatory pat on the back from his boss with a "Just when I was wondering whether you needed a break, you finish everything up in record time.." he had gushed, as usual. He used every trick in the book to keep him in his team and he had succeeded. Arman had been working for him for about 3 years now. His presence had made all the difference for the department. It had flourished and it had been no small task to get it there. Everyone knew and understood that. It was only a matter of time before Arman was made the Department Lead. And that scenario was emphasized in the meeting. By all accounts he should have been a happy man with a spring in his step. He was happy, but the spring was missing. He wanted to share this feeling with someone. With someone who would be not only proud of his success but understand it as well. Sure, he could talk to one of his friends who would be undoubtedly happy for him but they would forget it the next moment. He could call his mom maybe and she would be very proud but she would not be able to understand what that success really meant. Suddenly he felt alone. Why had these things never bothered him before? Why was he feeling suddenly like he needed someone to lend him a shoulder and an ear? The mail icon was flashing on his monitor. He opened his mail eagerly.
"Congrats buddy! You are the man.." said one of his colleagues.
"Thanks!" he shot back with irritation.
There was nothing left to accomplish that day. It was only 5. His head was getting heavier by the minute. He could not bear to stare at the monitor for one more second. He started to leave. Hey wait a minute! Why did he have to wait for her email? Why couldn't he send her one? That brought a smile to his face. But what could he possibly say to her without sounding like he had been waiting for her email all day long. He started to type.

The Bicycle - A short story.

She walked briskly to the cycle stand. She wanted to get out of there before the crowd converged on the cycles. She looked at the cycles. Arranged in 2 neat groups. The bigger group belonged to the guys and the smaller one to the girls. She hurried to her bicycle. There it was. Parked neatly to one side. She always came a bit early so that she could get the corner spot, which aided her in getting her cycle out quickly without having to wait for anyone to move their bikes. She walked faster as she could hear the voices behind her. Ah! She was there. She looked at her bicycle. Part of the reason for this come first, leave first routine was that she possessed a really old bicycle. She was embarrassed of its old style and withering looks. The seat had a couple of gashes in it exposing the sponge which had now taken on the hue of the red soil, the chain squeaked when you moved it, one of the wires from the brake hung down without any purpose, both the pedals were hanging on to the cycle for dear life, the paint was peeling almost everywhere. She had asked her parents for a new bicycle but as it went with all things that had to do with money in their lives, even this had to wait. She had tried to force them to reconsider but as long as it was usable, no matter how many times the chain got yanked out of its place, it was supposed to be used. She had no other choice. In that sleepy, small town there was no other mode of transport. Her tuitions were about 4 miles away. She had tried to walk one day. It was worse than anything she had ever done. So she meekly surrendered to her fate and day in and day out used the same old rickety cycle.

But each passing day that she rode on the old bicycle something happened to her. She could never get her thoughts away from the squeaks and the laborious movement of the cycle. She felt like everyone on the road was watching her. That everyone was laughing at her laborious pedaling. She tried to be as unobtrusive as possible and just when she'd think that she was succeeding to an extent, the damn chain would give away with a loud noise and she would be left with the pedals going berserk. She would get down surreptiously; pull the cycle as far away from sight as possible and work on the chain. She had become such an expert at fixing it that she would do it in a matter of seconds and hurry on avoiding to look at anyone, scared that they were laughing harder than ever and were watching her every move.

This went on for a couple of years. Long enough for her to loose a lot. She did not want to make any friends; she did not want to make any contacts. She avoided everyone. If the will to study had not been so great in her, she would have avoided going to the tuitions altogether. But she could not do that because she knew that her future depended on it. Any chance she had of getting out of this rut, of getting out of the poverty that surrounded her was based sorely on her doing well at her studies. She was not a bright student by any means. In fact she was a below-average student, but that fact remain hidden due to the hard work she put in. She would studiously study every single day, which enabled her to get some above average marks from time to time. She needed her tuitions very much. She had gotten a chance to attend them thanks to the generosity of one of its founding members who happened be her dad's classmate eons ago. She had wept with joy when her dad had given her the news that she could start attending the tuitions. Though she had never seen the man, she always found herself indebted to this kindness. So the thought of not attending the tuitions, not making herself as she imagined a laughing stock of the entire town did not even cross her mind.

She tried her best to keep her cycle in the best condition possible. She tried to sew the seat with her limited skills; she ended up poking herself in the finger. She tried to wash her cycle every week but the peeling paint sometimes put a damper on that. She was scared she might damage the paint more with her regular washing and polishing. But she tried to do whatever she could and if it were not for her efforts, the cycle might have disintegrated a long time back.

One fine day as she parked her cycle in the deserted cycle stand, she noticed something on the wall. What attracted her to the poster was the image of a shiny red bicycle. Her eyes grew large as she read the poster with a thumping heart. It was flyer announcing a contest. She had difficulty reading it, as she did not want to take her eyes of the bicycle. Oh! What a beauty it was. It seemed to gleam and there was arrogance about it. She could see that it was blessed with the most modern amenities - some she did not even recognize. Hurriedly she tried to read what the contest was all about.
"...we are pleased to announce a contest that we hope shall motivate the young people and in the process help our community as a whole. We are looking for volunteers who would work with us to raise blood donations in our community..." It went on about how important blood donation was and how it saved lives. She did not know what else because she skipped over that part. She joined it again at
"..we are establishing this prize in which the volunteer who manages to sign up the largest number of people in one month shall be awarded with this latest model cycle...". She stood there for some more time watching the posters in silence. She could hear students around her but this time she did not duck in as she usually did when she heard someone approaching. She was not listening to anything; she was so totally absorbed in her appraisal of the cycle that she was oblivious to everything else. It was not until someone jostled in front of her trying to read the poster that she came back to her senses. She gave the bicycle one last longing look and backed off as more and more students tried to read what was going on.

She felt like shooing them all away and peeling the poster off the wall and taking her home with her. She had heard and read about young people her age sticking posters in their room of famous athletes and movie stars. Though she did not have a room of her own, she wanted to put up this poster. To look at it and be inspired by it and more importantly not have people having any knowledge of it. But that was impossible. As she pedaled her way back she could see the posters put up at many different places. She was looking for an opportunity to take off the poster and she did when she passed a deserted street. She got off from her bike, tried to remove the poster gingerly, succeeded with a few rips, rolled it quickly making sure nobody had seen her and then riding away faster than she had ever done in her life. The squeaking, creaking bicycle did not seem to be bothering her any more. She was fantasizing about the new bicycle. About how wonderful it would be to be riding that bike and how proud she'd feel to be riding it to her tuitions. No longer would she have to hurry. She could take all her time, show her new bike off - not be forever thinking that someone was laughing at her. She smiled to herself as she looked for a place to hang the poster up.

The contest started in a week. She wished it had been something not as extravagant as going out and getting people to sign up to give away their blood. Maybe an essay writing contest or a painting contest. Not something that would require her to interact with people - the one thing she had kept away so religiously from. But nothing was going to dampen her enthusiasm. This was like God answering her everyday prayer of blessing her with a new bicycle. She was not going to lie back and have the only chance of possessing such a magnificent bicycle slip away from her. She was going to do her best, she decided.

She talked to her father about it. He was bewildered more than anything else. He did not have anything to advise her because he did not know himself. She had already hit her first roadblock. How was she going to do it when she had no idea how to proceed? But she was determined and sometimes determination does more than one could ever hope. She read the small print. She had to sign up with an organization. Maybe they could help her out. Point her in the right direction.

She rode her cycle to the address listed on the poster to register her name. It took her about half an hour to gather her courage and wits before she entered one of the many tents that had been set up - the one which had a makeshift cardboard sign that said - Registration. Her hopes took a damper when she saw that there were a lot of people seated in the tent waiting to be registered. This was going to be more difficult than she thought. She sat down very self-consciously and wanted to run out of there. But the image of the bicycle managed to stop her from doing that. Eventually her number came and it was with a pounding heart that she stepped forward towards the desk of the person who seemed to be taking the registrations.

"Name.." he asked as soon as she was within earshot.
"Age..School...Father's Name..." he went on as she answered each one of his questions.

He gave her a couple of forms to fill.
"Am I done?" she asked.
"Yes..." he said dismissing her.
She did not know what to do. She had hoped coming there would offer her some sort of help on what she needed to do, but that did not seem to be the case. The man was dismissing her without so much as a word. This was not going to work. There was no way it was going to work. She had no idea of what she had to do, so how was she going to beat all those competent looking people around her. It was not easy to watch all her hopes come crashing down. She could see her old bicycle from where she stood and she could not look at it. Everything around her seemed to close in on her. Her legs gave away under her and she collapsed.

The next thing she knew, she seemed to be surrounded by chaos. There was a lot of screaming, shouting and every sort of loud noise making things going around her. She slowly opened her eyes. She remembered the time she had to make a trip to the general ward of the hospital when her mother was hospitalized. It had terrified her. The noise, the stench and the pain of the people. She realized with horror that she was alone. She felt a prick in her hand. Something had been hooked to her. She looked up. There hung a bottle of bright red blood upside down and it seemed to be flowing into her veins. She just watched as the irony of the situation sunk in. Suddenly her face brightened. She knew where she had to start!

*The End*

An untitled story!

She was once again in tears. She could not understand this at all. Not at all. She did everything possible to be the best that she could be but it did not seem to be working. Not in the least. She was always upto something - almost always for him. She'd be either preparing his favorite elaborate dish after noting down every painstaking detail over a one hour telephone conversation with her mother-in-law. The conversation that would continue intermittently throughout the day as she woulf try to follow every instruction to the minutest detail making sure it was the right thing to do every half an hour. The result as would be expected would be outstanding. She'd beam with pride as he would take one bite out of it and finish it with a relish asking for second, third and fourth helpings. But would she feel like her effort paid off? No, not at all. There would be something missing, he would praise her cooking, appreciate her effort, thank her profusely for going to such lengths - but other than that there would be nothing else. No physical display of the appreciation. She would watch disappointingly when he would after the glowing words, just get up and leave with a I hope you made lots, a wink and the slightest of kisses on her cheek. It would puzzle her no end. Hadn't Mamma told her that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach? How come no matter how hard she tried, the stomach though well satisfied, did not seem to make any inroads towards her husband's heart. She would sit down stupified and stuff herself with loads of the gourmet dish she had just made in her depression.

She decided to take another approach. She would clean his study that day. She did it every day, but this day she would do something different. She would re-arrange everything. He always kept talking about what all he wanted to do to the room, but did not find sufficient time. So she set out about doing that. Had to make a couple of trips to the Mall to get a few things. She was done by the time of his return and cast a look on her labor of love. Everything was sparkling, the new chair and the lamp added character to the room, not to mention the tiny circular rug that brightened up the study considerably. Pleased with her efforts, she went into the kitchen. In her frenzy to set everything up she had foregone even food time. So she started to cook and was able to come up with a decent dinner in no time at all. Precisely that moment he returned. She had closed the door of the study so that he would be able to see the change only when he went to it - which he did in leisure. That was the time to inspect it - in leisure.

He greeted her with a Hi! Dear and rushed to their room presumably to freshen up. How she wished he would come over near her, clasp her in a tight embrace and kiss her passionately! But no, he did not seem to want to do anything of that. He came out a while later with - "Hey! That smells good. I am ravenous you know". He always was when he returned from work. She served him the food and they ate in silence. How she wished he would say something about how his day went, confide in her about the troubles he faces, enjoy with her the triumphs - but no, he ate in silence. Once or twice opening his mouth to say how delicious the food was. But today she was excited. He would invariably go to the study after eating and she could not wait. He helped her clean up after dinner and she asked him if he wanted a cup of tea. He nodded with a - "I will be in the study". She could hear her heart thumping as he walked towards the room. She waited with bated breath as he opened the door. There was silence all around. Oh good Lord! Maybe he did not like what she had done. She stood in a trance, wondering what she was going to do if he went ballistic on her.

He called out to her. This was it. This was the moment she was waiting for. She walked towards him.
"Oh my god dear! What did you do?" he asked. Shock registered on his face. She did not know what reaction that was going to turn to. She tried to determine if there was a sharp tinge to his voice.
"Well I just re-adjusted the study a little. I have been catching bits and pieces of how you wanted to re-decorate it and decided to surprise you..." she said.
"Its..its...fantastic!" he beamed, his face brigtening like a bulb.
"You like it?" she asked, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Like it? I love it! Its just the way I wanted. Everything is so perfect."
It was her turn to glow like a bulb.
"Thank you, thank you. I just cannot thank you enough." He took her hands in his. Ah! This is more like it. He took her in his arms and hugged her. She could feel the warmth of his body. She wanted to melt in his embrace. She wanted this to go on forever.
He kissed her - on the cheek.
"Let me try this new chair.." he said, letting her go.
She stood there for some time not knowing quite what to do. This was not what she had expected how this would go. She had imagined him kissing her passionately, whispering to her that she was his dream girl and then carrying her off to their bedroom. Like she had watched in all those movies. She sighed and walked to the kitchen to make his cuppa. She could hear him pacing like an excited kid checking out things in the study, sometimes calling out to her with a where did you find this? or with a how did you do this? She can almost hear him say as she handed him the tea, "Ah! How good this smells. This is what makes my day complete!" And then he'd immerse himself in partaking the concoction.

She felt miserable. She wanted to cry. Where was the spark in their relationship? It seemed so placid and boring. When she had gotten married, she had reconciled herself to the face that all her grand plans of having a love marriage and not borne fruit since the main ingredient of being in a love marriage was to find a man to love and that was missing from her life. She studied in a girls only school, a girls only college - where would she meet this essential ingredient. None of the boys around her 'mohalla' excited her much. She had been waiting for that fateful afternoon when while taking a walk in the park she would stumble and fall into the arms of a handsome stranger, who would look deeply into her eyes and sweep her off her feet. Many afternoon's passed, some so scorching that no one but she would venture out in the hope that her handsome stranger was lurking some place. She held on to her hope until her parents decided to get her married off to this stranger from the city. She had wanted to create a scene but on what basis was she going to that? On the hope of some prince knocking her off her feet. There was no telling what her strict father would do if he came to know that his daughter nursed such silly dreams. She talked to the prospective bridegroom a couple of times and decided that he was a decent kind of chap and could not put up any objection when everyone around her agreed it was an ideal match.

When they were pronounced man and wife, she peeked at him to see her smiling at him. She smiled back. This arranged marriage thing wasn't quite as bad as she had feared, she thought relaxing for the first time. She made a promise to herself that day. That she was going to find the romance in the relationship that had been sorely missing in her life. From that day on her travails started. She realized with horror that her husband was a man of few words and fewer actions. There was no question he cared a lot about her and was sensitive to her wishes, but he had no idea about love and romance. He seemed to be the kind of person who considered such ideas a big waste of time. He did not lavish attention on her as her friends had told her their husband's did during the first year of marriage. He let her do her stuff and did his own stuff. He gave her everything she could have asked for, except the passion that she so longed for. He did make love to her, but somehow it seemed very business like to her as he would say hardly anything during the process leave alone whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She longed to hear him tell her that he loved her. She longed to melt in his arms as he took control of her body. Nothing of that sort happened. She was devastated. She did not know what to to, who to turn to.

Sensing her disappointment, her mother advised her, as all good traditional mothers do, to work over winning over his love. To be such a good wife to him, that he would be helpless in front of her perfection and would be unable to do anything but love her. So she set about doing the things her mother advised her to. Cook his favorite dishes, organize his things, surprise him with stuff he wanted..the list was endless but she went through each one of the items on it painstakingly. She waited for the anticipated result but it never came. Everytime she would fail, she would tackle the next one on the list with renewed vigor. But today she was truly depressed. Every item on the list had been attempted. There was no other item that she could try. Once again she did not know what to do. She felt ashamed to ask her mother for counsel again, after having fallen flat on her face the first time. She sat down and cried. There was no one to turn to. In a few years she would be older, having children and any hope of romance in the relationship would have to be forever discarded. She would have gone through life without knowing what it was like to have a man love her passionately. She was as good as dead. She cried harder.

She could hear him humming a tune amidst her sobs. There was no danger of him overhearing her because he would be engrossed on doing something on the computer as he listened to the songs. She wished he would hear her. Wished that he could rush over to her, fawn all over her, ask her the reason, guess it was his attitude and promise to change and more importantly come through on his promise. But alas! No such thing happened. He continued to hum the damn tune as she cried her heart out.

"You want to go out?" he asked her one day.
She smiled. She would love to. So he took her out. To a very expensive restaurant. She felt out of place in the establishment. She felt sometimes that she did not fit into the city very well. It was fine as long as she confined at home, but the minute she walked out she felt very self concious. At the back of her mind was always the thought that she was a village bumpkin who was not in the city long enough to adapt to its ways. Right from the way she dressed, to the way she combed her hair, to the way she talked, to the way she carried herself - she felt that her attitude was small-townish and she could never feel herself fitting in. She felt the same feeling assuaging her as they sat to dine at the table. What had posessed her to take him up on his offer, she thought to herself. She was already feeling claustrophobic and the evening had not even started yet. She wished she were some place else. Anywhere but here.

He carried on as if nothing was amiss. She refused to order anything, so he ordered for the both of them. She was feeling miserable, unable to carry on a conversation in the state of mind that she was in. He seemed to have sensed her mood and stopped trying to make small talk. It was with relief that they greeted the appearance of the food though neither one of them was hungry. They started paying attention to the food thankful that there was something to direct their energies too instead of trying to make small talk. It pained her to think that she had to struggle to find something to talk about with her husband. She picked listlessly at the food.
"What happened?" he asked. She gave a start. She had been so immersed in her misery that she had even forgotten about his existence.
"huh?"
"You don't seem to be eating anything. You don't like the food? We could order something else you know."

She sighed. So like her husband to place the blame on anything but himself. Couldn't he see that she was feeling bad that they had to go through this charade, that they were still strangers to each other though they had been married for almost a year. She just shook her head from side and side and continued picking at her food. The evening ended the same way - listless and tasteless!

The next day she decided she could not take this anymore. She needed a break. From her dreams, from reality but most of all from her husband. She expressed her desire to go see her parents and he agreed immediately. She had to wonder if he had not been waiting for this all along. The thought brought tears to her eyes that he could be waiting for her departure as eagerly as she was waiting to get away. She forbade herself from dissolving into tears as she packed her stuff. She packed and packed and packed. She did not know how long she was going to stay there but she packed for a long stay. He looked at her suitcases and if he was surprised he did now show it.

"We will leave tomorrow..." he said. The plan was he was going to drop her off at her village, stay there for a couple of days and come back. Her date of return was not finalized. Neither did he ask her a time period nor did she provide him with one. So off they trooped off in the train to her hometown. The couple of days that he stayed with them passed off in a rush. There were lots of formalities to take care of, hoardes of relatives who wanted to meet and talk - there was no time for the husband and wife to even utter a sentence to each other. Not that it made a difference, she thought bitterly. Soon it was time for him to go. There was no parting scene, no poignant seperation, just a hug goodbye.

Was it her imagination or did he hug her tighter than ever before and for a little bit longer? Must be her imagination. Sometimes you want something so bad, that you start imagining things. That must be it as she waved him goodbye. She felt a trickle of moisture on her cheek. Her heart was breaking, somehow she did not like the sight of him leaving, as she had thought she would. She stood there for a long, long time after he had left. Suddenly she felt very alone. That was one thing to be said when she lived with him. She had never quite felt lonely. He was always there for her. If he was at work, she'd have to pick up the phone and he'd be there talking to her. Nothing quite what she wanted to hear, but conversation nonethless. He'd never leave her alone and go out apart from his work. Any party, any friend he went to visit, wherever he went, he would take her along with him. If she did not want to go, he would not either no matter how much she implored him to. The memory brought a smile to her lips, though she had been very irritated with him at that time.

She went in, feeling an emptiness inside she found hard to describe. The heaviness in her heart when he was around seemed to have replaced by nothing after he left. She could not feel anything, as she went directly to what used to be her room. It was still the same. Everything neatly arranged the way she had always wanted it to be. She had always been a very organized child. She looked at the modest book case. Her small collection of books neatly arranged by subject, by the alphabetical order. She recollected the time when she had been re-arranging the study. How she had painstakingly arranged his vast collection of books and cds by the subject and then alphbetically. He had thanked her everytime he had found a book with no effort. How she had loved doing that for him. She would from time to time organize the books after he would use it for a while. She wondered what would happen now that she was gone for - how long? she asked herself. She did not want to think about it. She heard her mother calling out to her and hurried out.

He called the next day to inform her about his safe arrival back home. She had been walking restlessly for over an hour before the telephone rang. Apparently the train had been delayed for a while. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard his voice. She wanted to smile for no reason at all. She did and he said - "You seem so happy!" She cringed when she heard that. Had she given him the impression that she was having a good time after he left her? She hoped he did not think that it was because she was at her parent's place and not with him.
"I am just happy to hear from you. I was getting worried!" she said.
"I knew you were. I called as soon as I could access to a phone!" he said.
"I know." she said.
"So I will call you again in a couple of days."
"Sure"
"bye"
"Take care.." she whispered.
It was a wonder that he even heard it at all.
"Don't worry about me. You have a good time." he said and hung up.
She realized her heart was still beating fast as she hung up the receiver. She giggled. She was feeling like she had just encountered a handsome stranger in the park. There was a spring in her step as she went about her day. The only thing she could think of was his call in a couple of days.

She was half-asleep the next morning when her mother woke her up.
"Phone call for you..." she informed with a wink.
She was fully awake. It was him allright. She could feel the pace of her pulse increase as she talked to him. He seemed embarassed in the beginning to be calling so early.
"I don't know I just woke up early and felt like talking to you. I guess I am more used to you being next to me than I realized"
She could not believe her ears. It was the first time he was saying anything close to such stuff.
"I am sorry if I disturbed you. I hope I did not disturb anyone else..."
She laughed.
"Don't worry about it. Ma gets up real early..."
They talked about this and that. Even when there was nothing to talk about, he would bring up some vague topic. She was thrilled beyond words. It was like he did not want to hang up and continue talking to her. She glanced over to the watch and realized that they had been on the phone for well over an hour.
"Isn't it getting late for work for you?" she asked.
"Oh my God! Look at the time and I haven't even brushed yet!" he wailed.
"There is so much I have to do..." Suddenly she felt very guilty for not being there. She would help him get ready. Make breakfast for him and wave him goodbye! She wanted to be there with him.
"Ok I will talk to you later.." he said.
"Sure. Take care.." She was about to hang up when she realized that he was still on the line.
"Yes dear..." she said.
"oh! Nothing...I just wanted to ask you when you are planning to return. No rush you know. Just to plan some stuff..."
"Can I let you know later?" she asked.
"Sure thing" he said and hung up.

"So are the married love birds done with their conversation" her mother said walking into the room. She just blushed.
He called her again the same day.
"So did you have time to think about it?" he asked.
"Think about what?" she asked.
"About when I should come pick you up. I have to apply for leave you know.."
"How soon can you come?" she asked.


***The End****

The Storm - A short story

She looked outside. She was tired, very tired. A storm was forming again. She hoped this was not once again like last time's when it started to rain and felt like it would never stop. For 3 days, cooped up inside the house, glued to the television set, watching out the window as another dreary day of life descended into oblivion...she shuddered as she recalled those moments. In sharp contrast to the time she was so excited to hear about the storm warning. They had driven out to the sea, watched the storm in its infancy as it gathered strength somewhere far inside, the only indication of its mighty powers being the fierce winds and the huge waves, lashing against the rocks. The first time she had seen the water so far ahead that it was almost at the road. She had watched in wonder as the winds gained momentum, wanting nothing more than to stand in her spot when the storm hit the coast. To watch it unfurl its fury. "Foolish girl" her mother had said exasperatedly as she begged for one last time to spend a few more minutes.
"What do you want? To be swallowed whole by the storm?" She had chided. Foolish girl, she said again.
"But ma, what will happen in another 10 minutes?" she could hear the storms impending arrival. The wind was crazy now followed by an eerie sound. It sounded like someone, someone huge and big and great was howling. oh! To stand your place in face of such arrogance! Surely their new car could outrun the biggest storm.
"A lot can happen in 10 minutes dear. It could mean the difference between life and death.." she heard her father saying to her gently.
She still did not move. Her brother was already inside the car. Coward! She almost spat out.
"Look at how sensible your brother is. And look at you, wanting to take on the storm by yourself. Do you have any idea what it is to go against nature. Against God's will? Foolish girl!" Foolish girl, it seemed like every sentence of her mother's to her started and ended with those two words. Foolish girl - you did not comb your hair well. Foolish girl - whatever do you mean you don't want to eat this? Foolish girl - how many times have I asked you to stop getting lost in your thoughts and pay attention to the real world? Foolish girl - why do you insist on getting into the path of storms? It was like her name had been some miraculously changed to foolish girl. Where was the mother who used to call her loving as my little darling, my rose, apple of my eye - well atleast that was what she thought choni moni meant. How was all that replaced by that hateful foolish girl? But today she was not thinking of why that had happened. All she wanted then was a few more minutes - to have a peek at the wrath of nature, as she had so often heard the storm being referred to in the media. But no, trust her mother to drag her by her soul away from the thing she wanted to do the most.

Did the bai remember to bring the clothes in? She had warned her about the impending storm and had asked her to bring the clothes inside. She peeped out of the back window. All the clothes were swaying in all their splendor. Aaargh! Foolish woman, she thought as she stepped out. If she allowed the clothes to get wet, it would be so difficult to get them to dry. Lord only knew how many days the storm was going to ravage her city.

She steppped outside. The wind hit her with a force. The howling she discovered was not some mighty mean creature but the wind itself doing that. She hurried to the backyard and had a hard time trying to keep everything in place as she tried to collect the clothes. Some of them had already broken free of their clothespin and were having a whale of a time dancing to the wind. What a funny sight she must have presented as she scampered to gather everything, her own clothes trying to get rid of their clothespin! There! She finally had everything under control. She muttered curses towards the bai as she rushed towards the door. The rain drops were already falling. Pitter-patter, Pitter-patter.

oh no! she tried to increase the pace of her steps but the wind seemed to be pushing her back. The huge pile of clothes she held in her hands were not helping matters either. She suddenly had visions of the cow flying into the sky in a movie she had recently watched about a Tornado and she was petrified. She wondered if that could happen in stormy winds too? She did not want to think anymore. How many more steps to the damned door? Why did it feel like the cursed thing was stepping farther and farther away from her? Surely that must not be about 15 steps away. She took a few steps and looked up again. It still seemed to be the same 15 steps away. The rain drops who had announced their presence subtly were gaining momentum, they were getting more persistent, rougher, their caresses demanding more attentions as they started to increase the pressure. She looked up again. Surely she must be there. The door looked 15 steps away. Not one step closer. What was happening? Was this really happening? Had something killed her in the backyard and now she was in that state where she could not reach her door no matter how many steps she took? What crazy thoughts she was having, she said. It was just the wind pushing her back making her progress slower, she decided.

The rain drops were not rain drops anymore. They mingled to form a stream of water, drenching every part of her body and ofcourse the pile of clothes she had so painstakingly gathered, trying to protect them from getting wet. Now look at them, they were soaking wet. Well if it was any consolation they would have been wet even if she had left them outside. So it was not her fault. She had atleast tried so save them. But what about her? She was getting colder and colder. It was like the rain was drenching her soul and she could not stop it from taking over control no matter how hard she tried. She looked up. The door seemed farther away. Farther than the 15 steps. What was it now? 1 step forward and 2 steps backwards? This was getting too weird. She had to do something before the chill in her bones froze her to death. Bigger steps. Yes! That was the answer. A giant leap forward! she thought as she stretched out her leg. She slipped and down she went into the mud. The pile of clothes fell, she did too.

Surely this was not happening? This was just a joke. It had to be, there was no other explanation. She gathered herself to the best of her ability. She could smell some unpleasant things while she went face down in the water. The manholes must have started to overflow. Suddenly she felt sick. She had to get out of this. She renewed her efforts. She gathered herself up and pushed her feet hard. She was up for a second before she found herself in the stench again. She looked up. The door seemed closer. What was this? She could reach it by crawling instead of taking steps towards it? Maybe she should try that then. So she crawled. Inch by inch, painstakingly, on her knees, dragging her legs behind her. The foul smell did not seem to bother her as much as it did earlier as she was almost at the door. It took her a long time to get there, but she did. The rain seemed to have stopped, there seemed to be no effort to get up, she had miraculosuly dried, there was no chill, the pile of clothes was still in her hands - just the way everything was supposed to be. Or was it?

She glanced at the watch. 10 minutes. Just 10 minutes since she had been out to get the clothes. Her father had been right.

"Foolish girl" she thought she heard her mother utter somewhere in the background. her mother had been right too!

His Luck

He stepped out into the rain. Darn! He had forgotten to get the umbrella again. How many times he had reminded himself to carry one when the weather report would predict impending thunderstorms. But somehow when it came to the moment where he'd have to snatch the umbrella from the closet - the very closet that he opened to get his shoes - somehow at that precise moment, he would be thinking of something else. It happened every time and by the end of the evening he would be cursing himself, the umbrella and ofcourse the torrential rain. Not a pretty sight running to almost the end of the parking lot - that was another rankle, the fact that the parking lot was always full no matter what time he reached, no matter that one day he was so determined he got up around 5am to be at work by 6am. Yes, he did secure a parking spot, but the damn building was not open. He had forgotten to inform his manager that he was going to be early the next day! That was always the kind of luck he found himself in. Things never seemed to go right for him. Correction. Small things never seemed to go right for him. He was as lucky as the next man or maybe even luckier than some when it came to bigger things like his education, his family, his career, his car etc but when it came to simple day-to-day things like drinking a cup of coffee without spilling, finding a shirt that did not need mending, taking a walk without tripping, shopping in the mall without running into someone who seemed to know him well but for the life of him he could not place, the light always turning red at every intersection, always finding a parking space at the end of the vast parking lot which was so big it could claim itself to be a town or forgetting the umbrella when the skies opened up - somehow he was always at the receiving end!

With these thoughts and questions about whether it was just that he was a clumsy oaf or if nature and God always ganged up against him, he stepped into the rain. He had waited for it to slow down a little so that he could make a dash towards his car. But trust his luck that instead of slowing down, the rain seemed to be gaining strength. When he could not wait any longer and realizing that it was getting darker and darker and that everyone seemed to have left the building, he stepped out. He hoped the gel would not give in and stay in place instead of running all over his face. Ugh! What was that taste? It was his hope - the gel. He ran faster. Before he knew what was happening, he had stepped into a huge puddle - the damn thing not visible in the dark - and worse still tripped and fell. The next thing he knew his laptop bag was swimming away from him, almost drowning, as he groped for it choking and spluttering in what seemed like pitch darkness. He looked around. Everywhere the damn parking lot seemed to be lighted except ofcourse where he had fell. He looked up to see the only street light that was not on! By a miracle his hand seemed to find the bag, but not before it had touched some not very, let us say, untouchable things. The ones that felt soft to the touch, seemed out of shape and smelled yucky! In short some very gross stuff. Maybe it wasn't so bad that the street light was out. He would not have wanted to see the stuff for the life of him. So he got up weary, bruised and more than anything else dripping wet. So much for trying to keep himself as dry as was possible. He walked to the car, this time taking his own sweet time. Paying more attention to the puddles on the ground and the muddles in his head. With his luck those puddles might be snake-infested too. Ugh! He did not want to think of it.

After what seemed like an eternity, his car came into view. A few more steps and he would've reached with no more accidents. Ah! There he was. No more accidents. He felt elated though everything on, above and with him were dripping. Suddenly he realized that there was no way he would be able to jump into the car. He was soaking wet. He would ruin the seats. Suddenly he brightened up as he remembered how judiciously he would carry a blanket. No saying when he would get stuck on the highway with a snow storm in tow. So with a satisfied smile he walked towards the trunk. He opened it and soon the smile disappeared. There was no blanket in there. Infact not a thing. Whaaaat? he wanted to scream. Didn't he put the damn thing in there just last week? What had happened to it? This could not be happening to me, he thought as he shivered. The wind had taken the most inappropriate time to blow a gust at him. Then suddenly he remembered. Yes of course, the picnic over the weekend. The slight chill and he had come to the rescue with a smug, I have a blanket in the trunk of my car and become an instant hit. He groaned inwardly as he realized that he had put in the laundry to be washed. So what now? he screamed. The wind seemed to be enjoying its audience as it roared and blowed with gusto. There was no choice but to get into the car if he had any plans of not standing there soaked and chilled to the bone and turning blue and dead! So with almost tears in his eyes he decided to board the car. The beauty of a car. He had just bought it last month. It was almost new and was one of his prized posessions. He took care of it to the best of his abilities though he could never quite steer it away from the path of the biggest potholes on the road. But atleast he tried! And now he could not even do that.

He felt a little bit better as he closed the door. Atleast the howl of the wind did not send the same chill through his spine! But he still felt very, very cold. Infact he was freezing. The clothes were so wet. Maybe if he removed them he would feel better. He looked around. Not a soul for miles. He removed his shirt and his undershirt. He felt a lot better as he turned the keys in the ignition. The car coughed a little, spluttered a little more. He was gripped with fear. What if the damn thing did not start? But it did! oh! Thank the God almighty above he let out a breath of relief. But wait? What was that with it? It was like a siren and it seemed to be originating from his car. Did I get into the wrong car? he thought for a second. Of course not, his keys worked, didn't they? and everything about the car was familiar. It was his car allright, but why the heck was it screaming like that. What happened till then faded into oblivion as he was seized by a panic attack. What was happening? It sounded like a police siren. Goddamn it! What if someone thought that he was stealing the car? How come the previous owner had not said anything about an alarm being installed in the car and more importantly how come there was nothing on the key chain to turn the damn thing off! His head was reeling. This was easily the worst day of his life. He got out of the car much against his resolve to make sure that it was his car that was going off! And he realized it was! Now what was he supposed to do? Sit there and wait for someone to help him out? But who? A cop maybe who might assume he was stealing the car and God only knew what he would proceed to do next. He shivered. Suddenly he realized he was shirtless! Good Lord! He jumped into the car. He waited for 5 mins. Nothing happened. No one approached. Everyone must be at home watching TV on their cozy little couches, a hot soup in hand he thought ruefully as he put the car in gear. There was nothing else to do but drive and he did.

By the time he reached home about half an hour later he was a nervous wreck. Every second of the drive he had been glancing in his rearview mirror for a police car to stop him. But other than a few curious glances, he spotted nothing. Finally he reached home and let out a breath of relief as he switched the car of. His ears were still ringing as he made his way home. He had a splitting headache and his nose was running continously and yes, the kleenex had run out in his car! He rang the bell. She opened the door and laughed to see him in his half-naked state.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
"Well..you know how it is..."
"Was it your luck again?"
"Don't talk about it. Let me come in first..." he said.
She got towels for him. He changed into dry clothes and felt like he had just been cured of a long-running illness. By the time he came out she had steaming soup ready for him.
"Come let's sit on the couch..." she said, wrapped in the blanket he had left to wash.
Yes, there was nothing wrong with his luck!

*The End*

[prologue: I wanted to add this too.
He drank the soup hungrily. It washed off his hunger and weariness. He felt almost human. He looked at her. Alluring and beautiful. He took her in his arms, pulled her close and whispered..."let's go upstairs.." She laughed, pulled back and asked don't you remember? Can't we go for a long drive in your new car instead?" huskily! Darn his luck! ]