My Stories

Overtime - Part 6

2006-09-20T15:54:00.000-07:00

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

2006-09-07T11:08:00.000-07:00

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

2006-08-23T15:04:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-02-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

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!

2005-11-10T16:17:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-29T11:42:00.000-07:00

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! ]

A magic lost - The Conclusion

2005-09-15T11:16:00.000-07:00

I watched him with horror. Suddenly I was very concious of myself. Dressed in last night pajamas, the only thing I had done to myself was to have brushed my teeth. I didn't even remember splashing water across my face. True, I had fantasized about meeting him face to face, but darn it! this was a nightmare. He on the other hand was immaculately dressed, the unruly hair that I remembered being all over the forehead was combed back neatly and held in place with what looked like loads of gel! But the lopsided grin was still there. Just the same.

"You are not ready..."
I kept staring at him.
"Ready for what?" The irritation of being caught in the worst possible attire combined with the shock of him standing right in front of me, made it possible for me not to stand there gaping like an owl. Anger might be a real bad thing but it sure lends character to a person. Especially one who does not know what to do next. It atleast guides you to say something.
"For our date. I have come to pick you up and I am on time too!" he grinned.
Now anger gripped me tightly. This was getting too far. What was he thinking he was doing? Did he think that he could just burst into my life from nowhere and that I would welcome him with open arms. Did that 7 years that passed, which included the excruciatingly painful first year where I passed the days like a zombie, the second one where I tried to get a grip on myself, the third year where I started to breathe normally again and the years after that where the most important thing and difficult thing to do was not to think of him, just mean nothing to him.
"Get out!" I said as I slammed the door in his face.
"owww..owww.owww" I heard him. I was aghast. Did I hit him? oh no! So some people were indeed right about anger being a bad thing. Or was he just acting? Whatever it was, the sudden burst of anger in slamming the door managed to cool my temper somehow and I opened the door cautiously. He stood right there, holding a hand to his nose.
"What happened? Did I hurt you?" I asked with concern.
"Oh! yes you did! More than you can imagine..." he replied. I searched his face for a grin. It was not there. Suddenly I felt very tired. Very drained. It was time I dealt with the situation by facing it. Not slamming the door or hanging the phone on it.

I let him in. His nose seemed allright, though a little red. The door must have just grazed it.
"I am sorry but your nose seems ok..." I said.
"I was not talking about my nose.." he replied.
"Why are you doing this? What is this all about? Please, I don't want to play games anymore." The frustration in my voice was evident. I had not asked to be a part of this and yet he was here, sitting right across from me. Not even a feet of distance between us.
"Neither do I, believe me. I am just here to apologize to you.."
"Apologize? Isn't it a little too late for that?"
"Well its never too late. This is how long it took me to gather the courage to face you, to look into your eyes again..." he sank back in the sofa.
"But why? why after all these years..." I still could not understand his presence.
"Maybe its selfish of me. I don't know but I had to do this. Maybe now I could go to bed peacefully without feeling like a jerk that I am..was..."
I wanted to say I agree with you about the jerk part, but I resisted.
"Ok. Fine. Now that you have done what you have set out to do, let's call it quits."
"What do you mean?" he asked, the confusion clearly visible in his eyes.
"Well you wanted to apologize, you apologized and now you can get on with your life and let me get back to mine in peace..." I said.
"So do you forgive me?" he asked.
"How does that matter?"
"It does. Please..." he leaned forward.
"Ok fine I forgive you. Now can you leave please?"
"Wow! You have changed!"
"Yes! I have grown up, thank you very much for noticing" I replied.
He sat there silently, staring at me. I felt remarkable. I did not know where I was getting the determination and the strength from. But wherever it was from the supply seemed to be generous and undiminished.
"Can we start over?" he asked slowly.
I stared at him. Was he for real?
"Are you for real?" I said getting up agitatedly.
"Please...please listen me out..." he continued as slowly.
"Please leave..." I almost yelled at him.
"You owe me that much..."
"I don't owe you one tiny thing. Now get out before I call security." I said picking up the phone.
What happened next, I could not have foreseen in my wildest imaginations.
He burst out crying. Yes, real tears started flowing out of his eyes. I was flabbergasted. This was not what I had expected. I just stared at him increduosly, still unable to believe that he was shedding tears in my living room! But it did manage to stop me in my tracks. Something he wanted to achieve and did I am sure. I was unsure as to how I was supposed to react. So I just stood there gaping.
He must've taken my stunned silence as softening as he took a moment to recover.
"I am sorry..but I have been under so much stress lately and I have been waiting for this moment when I would meet you for so long and everything is going against what I thought it would go like...it is just so overwhelming..." he said.
I prayed that the tears had stopped for good and there would be no more moist eyes to deal with. I remembered how he was quick with unshed tears all those years ago. Specifically when I would say something that would hurt or make him angry. Somehow the memory made me cool down a little. After all we had shared a relationship in the past. If for nothing more, we were friends at one time and somehow the bitterness that I was exhibiting did not seem right. Especially towards a person, whom I had, like it or not, loved with all my heart all those long years ago.
I slumped into the sofa. It was my turn to feel exhausted now. Where was this going and why?
"What is it that you want from me?" I asked.
"I just want another chance..." he said as he moved towards me.
"Another chance at what?" I could not believe my ears.
"Another chance at love..." He was looking at me in earnest. Was that sincerity I saw reflected in his eyes or was it something else. Again he managed to shut me up. The whole thing seemed something straight out of a highly dramatic movie to me. Nothing about the situation seemed real. He was behaving like he had left yesterday and had come to smooth over a tiff we had last night or something. And worse still, I was allowing him to. I instinctively flinched at the thought.
He somehow noticed my horrified expression and went back to his seat.
After a few moments of silence, he finally managed...
"Can we be friends atleast?"
I could not believe this. I recalled those were my exact words when I was cajoling him to give our relationship a second chance. When everything else had failed, I had given the being friends parting shot. To which I remember him replying - we could never be friends. Did he forget all that or was he so insensitive to be taking the same disastrous approach I had undertaken. At least I had had an immature age and being hopelessly in love to fall back upon as excuses, What excuse did he possess?
"can we?" he questioned again.
It looked to me like he was once again mistaking my shocked state to mean something else - maybe a positive reaction to his asinine comments.
"Look here" I said trying to muster as much dignity as I could in the crumpled pajamas I had been wearing since yesterday, that now sported a couple of pizza sauce marks.
"...I am unable to fathom how you could appear out of nowhere and expect us to carry off from where we left off. Do you even remember where we left off? If you do, then I am even more amazed that you could be having this conversation with me and if you don't, I would once again take you being the biggest jerk in the world as the reason behind this nonsense. I don't know where you got this preposterous idea in your brain, that there is something that could be salvaged here. And I wonder what prompted this? Is it because of all the stress that you say you find yourself in, or it is as you put it being unable to live with oneself when you seemed to have done a pretty good job of it till this time. Whatever it is, I am not buying. Now for the final time - LEAVE and please no more tears. I cannot stand men who bawl openly in front of strangers..."
He looked up sharply.
"Strangers? What do you mean strangers?"
"Strangers as in two people who do not know each other..." I persisted.
"What are you talking about?"
"Us" I said simply.
He was taken aback, I could see that. He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it and then got up to leave. I stayed where I was. He paused at the door, I did not flinch. I don't know how long he stood there, but there was some time before the door finally closed.
I breathed out a sigh of relief. My heart was beating so fast, I just sat there still, not trusting myself to get up. As things returned to normalcy, I smiled. Meeting him seemed like the best thing to have happened to me. No longer would I wonder about how he turned out. No longer would I just remember the best parts of our relationship. Seeing him face to face, talking to him had stripped him naked of all the romaniticism I had associated with him and being in love with him. I was aghast with myself for having found this man endearing enough to have loved him for so long. I could still feel the revulsion of his smoother than silk attitude that was so fake and not to mention the tears with which he had hoped to win me over not realizing that I was made of sterner stuff than he was and much better stuff too!

Kya hua tera waada, woh qasam woh iraada ? as if one cue Rafi's song came on the TV I was staring at blanky. Mitti me mil gaya I muttered under my breath.

The magic of the song and everything else that was associated with it was lost - forever!

*The End*

Kya hua tera waada, woh qasam woh iraada - a beautiful song by Mohammed Rafi from Hum Kisi se kum nahin that has him asking his childhood love who is now in a relationship with another man as to what happened to her promise, her decision that the day she forgot him would be her last!

Mitti me mil gaya - An urdu expression that literally translated means, got mixed with mud to denote that it has been discarded!

A magic lost - Part 1

2005-09-13T13:44:00.000-07:00

"kya hua tera vaada..woh qasam woh iraada...
bhoolega dil jis din tujhe woh din zindagi ka aakhri din hoga.."

Rafi's voice floated into the room singing about promises to never forget a long-lost love. It managed to wake me out of the slumber I was falling into. Suddenly I felt guilty - very guilty. Innumerable stories I have heard of people never really getting over the person that they loved. Not to mention innumberable songs, ghazals and everything else under the sun. Everything had the same message - once you have loved with your heart, there is no getting over it.

As if on instinct the phone rang. Without even glancing at the caller id I knew who was calling. The same person who had called an hour earlier. The same person who had called yesterday and the day before too. The same person who used to call me every single day all those years ago. The same person whose calls I used to look forward to answering every second of the day. The same person whose brown eyes I had looked deeply into while lip-synching to Rafi's "bhoolega dil jis din tujhe woh din zindagi ka aakhri din hoga" which played in the background before bursting out laughing. At that moment I had thought that I could never be as happy as I was right then. Right at that instant. My hand in his, as the both of us laughed together and suddenly got as serious.

"You mean it..don't you?" he asked.
"Cross my heart and promise to drop dead..." I said.
"You mean it..don't you?" he asked, the pressure on my hand increasing.
"Of course I mean it..." I said as I kissed him passionately.

The phone rang again interrupting my thoughts. There was no escape. How long could I avoid this? I had to take the call. Yes, I had to. The phone stopped ringing. I started to breathe again.

When had it all started? Yes, the first time that I laid my eyes on him basically. He stood there, his hair falling all over his forehead, a lop-sided grin adorning his face as he waved to me. Who was this guy?
"Sandhya?" he said.
"No.." I shook my head, wishing that I'd have been.
"who then?" he asked.
That's when I realized that it was sort of a pick up line. But instead of feeling enraged, I smiled.
"That was smooth..." I said.
"Was it? I must be getting good then..." he chuckled.

My heart started to beat a little faster from that moment. I found myself getting lost in nothing particular more and more. I greeted silences as I enjoyed the feel of the breeze as it caressed my body, the rustle of the leaves as they vied with each other to fall at my feet, lost in the music that seemed to engulf my every movement always - everything was beautiful. Everything was magic. I was in love, for the first time in my life and I discovered then what the hullaboo was all about. No, it wasn't overrated! Poets, novelists, shaayars knew exactly what they were talking about when they referred to the magic of first love. Love so young, love so innocent, so naive and just so out of this world! I treasured the feeling, the moments that I managed to catch a glimpse of him, if I was lucky enough - to talk to him. Then of course one fine day he asked me for my telephone number and that started the series of calls.

Once a week, then twice, then everyday and sometimes more than once a day. Everytime the phone rang, her heart gave a lurch. Everytime her guess proved right, I would be smiling from ear to ear. He spoke with a deliberate depth and slowness in his voice. Now I realized that it was nothing more than a juvenile attempt to sound hoarse, but at that time I thought it was the most sexy voice I had ever heard. We would talk for hours. After the conversation I would dutifully note in my diary every important topic that was touched over the course of their talk. I did not want to miss one thing about them. Not even a single word and I never thought I would.

Until ofcourse some of the words did not remain as pleasant. Some went on to become downright ugly. I stopped writing my diary when he said that he could not go against his parents and it was best if we left things as they were. I was aghast, but there was nothing I could do! I tried to coax him, force him, emotionally blackmail him, but nothing worked. He did not even have the decency to tell me the whole story. So like countless other my first love had also ended in heartbreak and like the countless others I had also felt that I was the most miserable person in the whole world. Bit by bit, I gathered myself. It was the most excruciating task as I watched all my dreams wash away - one by one. The diaries which had been the source of so much joy were read and re-read which only added to my woes. I could not stop crying sometimes. I cried and cried and cried till I would pass out. I was sure I was going to die somewhere along the way.

But no, I did not. But yes I always felt that a part of me had died. I managed to lock that part up pretty securely and never thought I'd have to revive it again. The memories were there - to be revisited wistfully whenever a song like "kya hua tera waada..." played on the radio but that was it. There was no hurt anymore. First love had been overrated, I decided and went about my life with no regrets.

But somehow life always has this penchant for landing a sock on your jaw just when you think that everything is going so perfect. And my life especially had this special knack of doing just that. Out of the blue, I got a call one fine day.

"Hello..." I heard after a brief pause. There was no attempt to be hoarse this time, the voice was naturally so and there was no mistaking who it belonged to.

"Sandhya?" he asked.
Inspite of myself I laughed. This was not what I had expected to happen in the millions of times I had fantasized about how it would be when I would meet him later in life. Somehow I had this, call it hope or call it fatalism, that I would meet him.
"You...how?" I managed.
"Well I will tell you all about it. Meet me." he said.

I had recovered enough by then to hear the warning bells going off in my head. I was not the giggly-quick-to-fall-quick-to-forgive teenager anymore. Atleast I was not until that moment. I steadied myself and in the most serious tone that I could muster managed...
"I am sorry, I can't see you" and hung up. I was shaking after I did that. The sock that life had landed squarely on my jaw had me staggering for some support. Alas! there was none. That was the way I had chosen my life to be. Never to depend on another person for my happiness or in my sadness. Now I felt alone. Completely alone. I sat down and for the first time in the last 3 years, cried. And cried and cried. This was not fair. Just not fair!

The phone rang again. In fact it rang a lot after that. It was still ringing as I picked it up again, unable to ignore it any longer.

"So when do we meet?" The arrogance of that man! I wanted to slam down the receiver yet again. But then I reminded myself of the pact that I had made with myself not to act like an impulsive-quick-to-explode teenager.

"Who said anything about meeting?" I asked.
"I did..." I could imagine him standing on the other end of the line, a lop-sided grin adorning his face. Suddenly I wanted to see him. Watch how he had aged in the past - how many was it? - almost 7 years. Gosh! This man made me feel more and more like a teenager - a lovesick one at that.

"How about tomorrow for lunch at the new Indian restaurant that has opened in your neighborhood?..." he went on.
Not only did he have my phone #, he seemed to know where I lived. How? Did he do some kind of research or something. Somehow that thought did not make me angry. On the contrary, I felt elated. I was afraid to look for a reason!

"Around noon? Is that ok..."
"oh! so you finally decided to ask me something..." I said.
The sarcasm was not lost on him but he chose to ignore it with an even more arrogant...
"Ok..I shall expect you around noon then..." he almost whispered.
"Don't" I said and it took all my strength not to hang up the damn phone.
"I will..." he said as he hung up the phone.

The gall. The gall of this man. What did he think that this was? A hindi movie where the heroine turns up wherever the hero commands her to much against her protests.
Fat chance, I heard myself say as I turned my attention towards making a cup of very strong tea.

The repeated glances towards the clock told me the time was approaching 12 o'clock. I caught an image of myself in the mirror with
satisfaction as I found myself dressed in last nights pyjamas. I was not going anywhere and the man's arrogance be damned, I thought to myself as I dug into the pizza I had ordered.

12 O'Clock. The hands of the clock merged into one and I raised a toast to my strength. That I had not given into the temptation to see and meet him. As soon as I drank to it, there was a knock on the door.

Who could it be? Maybe it was the pizza delivery guy. I must've made some error in giving him the exact money. Oh! boy when would I ever get a hold on my finances. I opened the door, flustered and found myself staring right into the deepest brown eyes, that I had never been able to completey forget. The magic was right there - right in front of my eyes....

(to be concluded...)

The Genial Genie and The Mere Mortal

2005-08-25T13:34:00.000-07:00

The genial Genie:

The genial Genie had a very good life. He liked snoozing in his lamp which was like a haven to him. Plug the mouth and what did you have inside? No sound, no light -ideal environment for catching your forty winks and more. And if you had the power to make yourself so small that you could make this your home, then what more could anyone genial or not ask for? Just like many of us the genial Genie had a comfy bed which unlike for us could be ordered to make itself, roll out or roll in. If his back hurt that day a little more, he could make the bed firmer and if he wanted to luxuriate then you guessed it, he could make the mattress softer. He was the master of his small world and no wonder he was a genial character. He had nothing to be not genial about.

Until ofcourse the mere Moral came into the picture. The mere Moral being a curious creature like many of his counterparts could not contain his curiosity when he stumbled upon the golden lamp as he did a trek through the thickest forest on the highest mountain. The genial Genie had assumed that if he hid himself beneath the densest bush underneath the oldest tree of the thickest forest on the highest mountain, there was little chance of anyone disturbing the peaceful little world he had built up with such care using his magical powers generously. But he had underestimated the power of mere Mortals. The power that granted them the ability to uncover the secretest of secrets, scale the highest mountain and ofcourse trek through the thickest forest and find the oldest tree in there to click a picture of to be shown off to other mere Mortals who did not have the time or the inclination or the stupidity to embark on such travels. It was one such mere mortal who while taking the prized photo managed to stumble over a root or such object and fell headlong into the bush disturbing our genial Genie's slumber.

The Genie being the genial Genie that he was thought it was a minor disturbance brought about by some animals or birds grazing/resting on the bush's branches respectively. So he turned and went to sleep again. He was not a fussy sleeper. He was snoring the next minute little knowing that the bumbling and tumbling mere mortal was right now examining his abode with 100% of his already high curiosity level. The first thought that hit the mere mortal was that it must be highly valuable. What if it was made of pure gold! It weighed pretty heavy and the workmanship was of the highest quality. But it was pretty dusty and the mere mortal was assuaged suddenly by doubts on the purity of the material used for the lamp's manufacture. So to set the doubting mind to rest, the mere mortal started rubbing on the surface.

I am sure none of you have lived inside a lamp, so you would not know the effect of someone vigorously rubbing on the surface, but since the genial Genie was in such a position, he knew instantly. The grating noise reached his ears. He was wide awake now. A panic attack seized him. Gone was the geniality. What remained was stark terror! The grating noise continued to gain horrendous proportions as the mere mortal excited by how brightly he was able to make the thing shine went on to attack it with too much vigor.

There was no mistaking it, the genial Genie thought to himself. Duty Beckons! He looked around. The room done in shades of orange and blue after he had peeped out of his hole when the sun was setting and was awed by the beauty of the sky with all its colors of orange, blue and red intermingled. He hurried out of the hole with his hands in his ears whose ear-drums might have been permanently damaged if he had not got out of his abode when he did!

So out he came as fast as he could with a huge whoosh! sound as he grew to his normal size. This was the favorite part of the duty period. When he would get out of that thing and show the mere mortals what a powerful creature he was, almost giving them a heart-attack in the process. But one gotta hand it to them, he thought considering they would recover pretty well and the first question would be
"Do I get my three wishes?". So out he came, in all his glory hoping his huge frame would give the mere mortal a fatal heart attack for once. But mere mortals who climb the highest mountains and trek the deepest forests to find the oldest trees are not faint-hearted as you can imagine. And that was the case. Though the mere mortal stumbled once again and his eyes almost popped out, to his credit he handled it pretty well.

Not every time that you see a genial Genie, who by the way you are not even sure is genial, pop out of a lamp though you have been told umpteen stories about it. Fairy tales are hard to believe, aren't they? Especially for mere mortals like you and me. And since the mere mortal belongs to our species too, he did not particularly believe in them fairy tales too. Not until that particular moment that is. If a 10-ft orange and blue hued genie is standing in front of you, with a not very unpleasant look on its face after emerging from a teeny-weeny lamp that you had been polishing, you have no option but to believe in all those stories. So the mere mortal, having stumbled down to the ground, looked at the genial Genie with a mixture of emotions.

The genial Genie also looked at the mere mortal with a mixture of emotions, though the emotions mixes were different and in different quantities from the one that the mere mortal was displaying.

"Well?" said the genial Genie tapping his leg, feeling as you can imagine not very genial about the whole situation.
"Well what?" said the mere mortal trying to muster whatever dignity she could muster while trying to stand up.
"What do you want?" the genial Genie asked impatiently.
"Well there are a lots of things I want..." she said.
"Well you are gonna get only 3 of them.." the genie said.
"F*ck you" the mere mortal answered.
"Is that a wish?" the genial Genie asked.
"It is tempting..." she said.
"So...out with them.." the genial Genie said, hoping against hope that this little woman would wish fast and he could have some hope pf salvaging his beauty sleep.

If only he knew how hard it was to ask a mere mortal to limit her unlimited wants to 3!

The genial Genie just hoped that this time the situation was not similar to what had happened when some not so bright mere mortals were involved in the equation. He hoped this mere moratl was unlike some of her illustrious predecessors. The I-want-to-be-the-messiah's of the world with either World Peace or No one should go hungry being the top of their lists. Did they even have a clue as to what they were asking for? Even God seemed to have thrown in the towel over that one, so what could a genial Genie do? And uff! The tantrums they would throw when the Genie would try to explain to them with all his geniality that it was not a possible thing for him. One started to shoot, one started to cry and one hurled the choicest abuses at him. Hastily he shifted his thoughts to the other kind. The vengeful ones - I want my mother-in-law dead, no wait, make that all my in-laws, or I want my boss, no make that all my superiors, dead! Again the genie would explain very genially that he did not control death. Once again the bullets, the abuses and the wailings would rush out. The genial Genie shuddered. No wonder he had sought this godforsaken place to hide. The genie suddenly did not feel genial at all towards the mere mortal who had sought him out of what till then he had condsidered to be the perfect hiding place.

It was with this expression that the mere mortal, who had been occupied with her thoughts all the while that the genial Genie had been reliving his past tragic moments of his interaction with other mere mortals, caught the genial Genie looking.

"What's wrong?" the mere mortal asked with a dash of ice. Lots of it. She had the power and she knew it!
"What do you mean?" the genial Genie countered trying to replace the menacing expression with some geniality.
"You don't seem too happy about this situation..."
"Well I am not!"
"hmmm...is that allowed?"
"What do you mean is that allowed?"
"Aren't you supposed to be all genial and falling at my feet with I am here to serve you master!
"I grant you three wishes. Everything else is upto me..." the not-so-genial anymore Genie answered.
"and what is the time frame for these wishes to be granted?"
The genial Genie balked. Now that was a question none of the mere mortals had asked him ever. Somehow he had been able to convey with his rush to the mere mortals that they had to wish and wish fast!
"umm...err.." the genial Genie hee-hawed!
"ah-ha! I knew it. There is no time limit. How sweet is that?" the mere mortal roared with laughter discovering the full extent of her power.
The genial Genie wished he had the power to choke life out of a person, breath by breath, second by second. He could have used that power, right then, rigth there! But alas! He did not. So he just stood there morosely as if he had stubbed his toe and he had no one to blame for it but himself.

The mere mortal meanwhile dismissed the genie, packed the lamp neatly into her backpack and continued her trek. The poor genie was in a very bad state. He tried to go back to sleep, but the continous swish-swoosh of the mere mortal's boots accompanies by the constant threat of being summoned any time did not let him rest in peace. And so the genial Genie remained, trapped in his own heaven. In shades of red, orange and blue!

The mere mortal meanwhile was feeling things in direct contrast to what the genial Genie was undergoing. Though these feelings were marred by the constant confusion in mind. What to wish for? More importantly. When to wish for them? What if today she felt that this is what she wanted more than anything else and if tomorrow changed that? After all didn't wishes change all the time? Would she able to forgive herself if she made a wrong wish? How uncool would that be? To be granted anything and to wish for the wrong thing. She swallowed hard. This was not easy and something told her it was not good either. What if people around her came to know of her power? Considering that she could not hold secrets for long, she was bound to slip. Then what? Surely an expectation to set things straight in their lives. Who would she choose? And who would she ignore? Surely she was going to make more enemies than freinds? Boy! Oh! Boy..this 3 wishes thing might not be so good after all. She sat down exhausted.

Just as the genial Genie was drifting to a restless slumber came the thud. Looked like the mere mortal had stopped moving. He could hear some heavy breathing. This might be his chance to pounce on her. She might have run out of water or something. Wish #1, Wish #1 the genial Genie's mind raced with the thought. He came out with a whoosh - all genial this time around.

"ahem..." he said.
"oh! hi.." the mere mortal acknowledged listlessly.
"want something?"
"yes..."
"well wish for it.."
"peace" she replied.
"uh-oh! Not world peace I hope!" the genial Genie said rolling his eyes!
"No. I am not that selfless. Peace for myself..." she said.
"Well no problem there. That I can do..." the genial Genie steadied himself.
"What are you doing?" the mere mortal demanded.
"Well bringing peace into your life, excuse me" the genial Genie answered exasperatedly.
"and how do you plan to do that..."
"well I don't know. That is upto the God above. I just influence him with my power"
"how?"
"Well for example - there is someone in your life who is not letting you live in peace. Now that person is somehow going to disappear from your life..."
"WHAT?" the mere mortal cried out.
"oh please! Not so loudly. I have a weak heart you know! I am used to living in complete silence. Please!" the genie pleaded.
"I am sorry. So you mean to say that you are going to eliminate this person from my life"
"Person or Persons!" the genial Genie answered proud of his power suddenly. It was always a pleasure to watch mere mortals to be awed by his power.
"NOOOOO" the mere mortal screamed louder!
"Why...wha..." the genial Genie almost passed out.
"I am sorry but that is not what I want..." the mere mortal trailed off.
"Well what is that you want woman?" This was not going good at all, the genial Genie thought.
"If I knew what I wanted I would not be trekking in the deepest forest of the highest mountain now would I?" the mere mortal answered. She had a point there, the genial Genie thought.
"How about happiness?"
"Well it works the same way - eliminate the people and situations that make you unhappy..."
"Success? Power?"
"The president of your country suits you?" The mere mortal gulped. No, it did not suit her.
"Money?"
"Sure"
"How?"
"Create ways for you. Like rob a bank, have a rich man's dog bite you, or steal a winning lottery ticket or something.."
"ugh!"
"Hey you only wish. How to carry out the wish is my prerorgative" the genial Genie warned.
"Can I pass?" the mere mortal asked.

*The End*

Stranger than fiction!

2005-08-23T10:25:00.000-07:00

This was a strange story if there was one. No, it was not a story at all. It was fact - the stranger than fiction kind. Let me narrate it in its entiretly and maybe you will agree with me in it being very the very strange reality.

It starts off with a simple soul called U. Now U, as her soul, also had a very simple life. No frills, no roller-coasters, no earth-shattering events, until ofcourse when reality took a turn from being normal. The earth did shatter, the roller-coaster did come down when U and her husband T were involved in a crash. Not their fault really. Some drunk driver plowed into their auto-rickshaw killing the auto-driver and grievously injuring T. U was left unscathed in the accident because she was thrown out of the other side. Now T's injuries were so bad that he ended up being unable to move anything from his neck down. Where once a pair of legs carried him, a wheel-chair did the job. Fortunately [if it could be termed that] for the couple, the drunk driver happened to be the spoilt son a very rich tycoon who with his ample financial prowess was able to secure the freedom of his son. The prowess was also used to provide T with a lifelong expert care and a generous allowance to take care of other things. Unfortunately, the prowess could not do anything for the one thing that he wanted to do - be on his own!

That was taken away from him, maybe forever. A nurse was appointed but he refused her care. He could not submit to any stranger taking care of his needs. For that he needed one and one person only. U, his loving wife, who was more than willing to provide that care. For the first time in her life, she felt needed and she enjoyed that feeling. She bathed him, fed him, cleaned him, took him to the bathroom, read to him, watched TV with him, talked to him, walked with him...every slightest need of his, she was willing to tend to whole-heartedly. Soon things fell in a pattern. The couple got used to the life. T finally accepted that he was going to be dependent on his wife all his life and after a couple of years finally turned to God once again to thank him for that one blessing - U.

So the extra-ordinary became normal and life chugged along. As it does, not matter how many out of the blue things happen to it. What happened after that was to be expected. Maybe not welcomed, but it should have come as no surprise to T or even U that eventually there was going to come a point where being needed constantly would go from being a welcome feeling to one that got on the nerves. There was no relief. He could not even talk for long without getting tired. He would fall asleep from time to time. Sometimes in the middle of a conversation. Just when she'd think that she could have some time to herself, he'd be calling out to her. Yes, it felt great to be needed but it felt lousy to be needed all the time. Constantly.

Fortunately for the couple once again, T managed to see what U was going through and more importantly understand her trauma. It was not like she was the disabled person, so why was she suffering so much, he thought with the only fully-functioning area of his body - his brain! So he started going easy on her, paying attention to her needs and her time, exhorting her to go outside, visit friends, take a vacation and interact with people. Once again things fell in place. U stopped feeling morose and unhappy all the time. This reflected on T who basked in her reflected happiness, his guilt pushed under the plush carpet after a long time. Once again things were normal - chugging along.

But as seemed to be the norm with their lives in the past few years, things started to shake and rumble again! This time, the consequences were far reaching and not amount of plush carpeting could mask its effects. The couple tried to ignore it in the beginning. What was happening to her - she tried to ignore, what subtle change came over her - he tried to ignore. But as is common with things that cannot be ignored but are attempted to for long, everything burst up one fine day. She was in love - with another man. She cried. He cried. Not that she loved another man, but that she did not love him any more. She kept telling him that she did, that there was no difference in the way she felt for him. He nodded, realizing that she had stopped loving him for a while. At least the way he wanted her to love him. True, she still loved him. Only it was like a child, not a husband.

She felt guilty. He felt even guiltier. She did not want to leave him. She could not leave him. He was a part of her and she could not imagine herself being happy without making sure he was doing OK. He wanted to be the big man. To let her go towards her happiness, to let her walk towards tha man she loved. He tried very hard, but somehow could not bring himself to let her go. He needed her too much. More than that he loved her too much. Needs could be taken care of by someone else, love can't! She was the only thing in his life that egged him to go on - to want to get up from sleep every morning - to keep on breathing and doing nothing much other than that. He even thought about killing himself to put her out of her misery, but he was so helpless he needed assistance even to do that. He tried to hold his breath once and burst out into tears when he could not even manage to do that.

U caught on to his dilemna. She tried to make things easier. She made him promise that he was not going to do anything foolish. She told him if he persisted with his sacrifices, she'd be the one taking the suicide route. They cried together that time.

So he did something unimaginable. He wrote a letter to the Prime Minister of India. Asking him to grant special permission to his wife to marry this other man while being married to him. His argument was that if men were allowed to do it then why not women? And it was not like she was in a physical relationship with him. His needs were limited to her being around him. Giving him company in his misery. To the thought that she could still care for him even if not married to him that sprung up in the PMs head, he had to say that if that bond were not there, things were bound to change and in his state he could not take that chance. Nor was she willing to leave him and go. Her sense of responsibility towards him overtook her passion for the other man. Atleast she was willing it to overtake her love. The other option of being married to him while carrying out an affair with the other man was unappealing to all of them. It was sure to bring havoc into everyone's lives. So My dear prime minister ji, the letter continued, don't you think the best way out of this situation is for her to be in a legal marriage with another man while being married to me?

My head spun as I read that! Now you can understand what I was trying to say about this being a very strange story. This seemed to be the man's last resort. The issue stunned everyone when the man had expressed his desire to people around him. It got bigger and bigger and finally the whole nation was involved. There were debates, religious leaders terming the issue blasphemous, demonstrations, politicians trying to gain mileage from it, personal attacks and what not. Now it was upto me to sort this matter and boy! was it a difficult matter to sort.

What was I going to do?

"Dear Mr.President.... As the highest authority of the supreme court I think this matter deserves your attention " I smiled as I forwarded the letter.

The New Bride - Part 2

2005-04-20T16:07:00.000-07:00

Sell the house? A house that I had made a home out of for my husband and kids.

“Come on Seema, the movie is about to start.” I would hurry as sitting on the love –seat he would stretch one hand to welcome me and the other hand in the bowl of freshly made popcorn. Sell that love-seat?

How was I going to do it?

“Ouch!”
“What happened?”
”I think I bruised my shoulder”
“Oh! I am so sorry!” The corner where he had hit his shoulder while we made out. Sell that corner?

What was I going to do? No! I was not ready for this yet. I knew the safe sanctuary of my parents was the best place for me at that time, but was I ready to give up my home for that. Well did it matter? I had not been ready for the changes that destiny seemed to have willed for me, now was I? But this was not destiny. This decision was in my hands and that was the most difficult part of it.

That evening I sat on the love-seat all alone by myself in the house. It is uncanny how I could not bring myself to call it a home. Help me Raj! Help me! I sobbed in the pillow. I was so angry. Angry at my parents for trying to force my decision, angry at God for reducing me to such a pathetic state , angry at Raj even for leaving me in a lurch. The sobbing just grew harder. I looked next to me. I wanted to see him there. Feel him next to me. I could almost smell the popcorn he’d have been munching. But there was no popcorn. There was no him. Just me on the love-seat. What did the love-seat matter if there was no Raj sitting next to me on it? He was gone. What was I going to do clinging to a lifeless thing when life itself had been taken away? Was that how I was going to keep him with me? With a corner and with a love-seat? A corner that did not have Raj leaning against it. What was I going to do with the corner?

I put the house on market the next day. To give a chance to someone else to make good memories out of it instead of just serving as a symbol of memories laced with tragedy!

I hugged my mom tight. I thought I had shed all the tears I could possibly have. Boy! Was I wrong! I was crying torrents as she held me close. What is it about grief that it seems to take on gigantic proportions when someone you love is around? It was like I was crying for the first time after his death. They just would not stop. There sat my mother and me in my childhood home as once again I donned on the role of being a child bawling its head off in its mother’s arms. Even becoming a mother yourself does not make any difference to this pact.

I was relieved at the early morning light filtering through the windows. Went out hoping to make myself a fresh cup of coffe when I stopped dead in my tracks. My parents were sitting next to each other, their backs towards me. My mother’s head rested on my father’s shoulder and he had an arm around her.

I did not need voices to let me know what she was whispering to him.

“What is going to happen to her?” How many times had I heard that? How many years had it been since I had heard that? Once again I was in the same position. How naively I had thought that I would never ever see my parents in that position again and yet here they were, only frailer. I turned back noiselessly.

“The decision is already made mamma. If you want me around then let me do this. Otherwise I might have no option but to go back.”

No, this time I was not going to allow myself to be humiliated. Life had landed me in a position where it was not in my control not to make my parents unhappy. But I was going to be damned if I was just going to sit there and fell sorry for myself. I had two adorable children to take care of. I could not let my parent’s defeatist attitude influence the way I lived. After all what is it about a woman that makes everyone around her think that if she does not have a male partner in her life then she cannot make it. That she need to be pitied and sympathized with? No one could imagine the deep sense of loss I was feeling at Raj’s passing away but if everyone around me thought that I was going to just wallow in self pity and give up, they were horribly wrong. I was not a new bride anymore. I was a grown-up woman and I was going to be damned if I would just allow anyone to walk over me. Did not matter if they were my own parents. They had to learn that this was not the end of my life. Living with Raj had taught me one thing – that was I not going to die with him.

So I moved. Once again. To another house. This time there were no grand plans of making it a home. As long as I could be alone in my grief, with my children without anyone looking at me as if I were the unluckiest woman in the world alive was enough for me. It is amazing how expectations can crash. From hoping to go on a two week trip to Disneyland with husband and kids in tow, I was not down to thanking God just for having a place where I could grieve in peace. The packed boxes lay strewn everywhere. The children were asleep with make-shift sleeping arrangements that I had made for them on the floor. I looked at their faces. My little girl, a heavy breather, her mouth open, lost to the concious world. My youngest sleeping in a fetal position, his face brushing his sister’s shoulder. I watched them for a while. How traumatic this must have been for them! Loosing their dad, moving countries, moving homes, new places, new people – had to hand it to them, they seemed to be handling it much more beautifully than their mother. Ah! The adjusting capabilities of a young child. Far exceeding the elders’ – far exceeding mine.

How long had it been since I had slept like a sane human being? I was either falling asleep too exhausted or had cried myself to bed. I looked at my children sleeping like babies. What did they have for dinner? I tried to recall. I was horrified to realize that I could not. What was it? I thought racking my brains. Nothing turned up! We did have dinner didn’t we. I looked up towards the kitchen. Surely, I would not have let them go to bed hungry. I walked towards the kitchen. Nothing on the table, nothing on the stove. I opened the fride. Nothing there either. I was sweating now. The tears had stopped. This could not be happening. I could not have allowed my children to go to bed hungry. This was crazy. I was crazy. How could I? How could I? The phone rang making me jump.

“How are you Seema?” asked my mom.
“Mom…I…”
“Is everything all right dear?” the concern getting bigger.
I could not say anything.
“Hope the children ate the food I had packed for them…”

Relief! Huge relief at those words. At the corner of the room I saw a carrier. Next to it stood 2 small plates with a few morsels of food. Thank God! Thank God!

“Yes Ma, they did.” Thank you ma.
“And you dear…”
“I am going to ma…”
“Make sure you do…”
“I will ma, I will”

Suddenly I was ravenous. I attacked the food. Rice, Dal and Fried Brinjal. My favourite. Raj’s favourite. I think I ate his portion too. After finishing, I walked to the children. I curled up next to my daugther. My face brushing her shoulder and I feel asleep. I was going to be back for my children. There was no other choice.

Things became so hectic the next few days that I did not have time to pause and think. I was so out of touch with the system that I did not have the slightest clue as to how things were supposed to work. But with the help of old friends and family members, I was able to manage somehow. There were so many decisions to be made that I was completely overwhelmed. How easy it is for two people to sit and make a decision and how damn difficult for a person who has gotten used to that scenario to be suddenly making decisions about things that ranged from hiring which doodh-waala to which schools to enroll the kids into! I anguished over everything. The maid, the newspaper, the car, the color of the walls – each small thing was enough to drive me to start tearing my hair out in frustration. I had no clue how the system worked and here I was trying to make it into the system – all on my own.

“Today our new daughter is going to make food for all of us.”
Like a bolt of lightning striking you when you least expect it. A bride of just 7 days and my mother-in-law had decided to test my skills.
“oh! Yes she cooks like a professional chef. She’s always loved to cook.” Professional chef? I’d be happy if I could make tea without any accidents and sat with a horrified expression as mom doled out the details. Half of the dishes I did not even recognize the names of. Her explanation or should I be saying her excuse was that once things were finalized I could be given a crash course and she had been true to her word. 2 months of rigorous training under the professional chef – my mom.
Yet I had been skeptical. How was I going to determine which things were kept where. Which vessel to cook in. Which bottle held which exotic masala. Decisions. The same feeling of being overwhelmed. There was one difference though…

“But Mother…”
A stern look from the said mother had stopped Raj in his tracks.
“OK fine…but I am going to help her.”
Laughter all around as he had said that. I did not know why at that time but later I did when I realized that it was his first time ever in the kitchen.

(..to be continued)

The New Bride - Part 1

2005-04-20T16:06:00.000-07:00

My first steps in his house.

"This is going to be my home. Our home." I thought to myself.

A new bride. Ah! What a wonderful feeling that was! I was so tired, I could just drop right there and go to sleep but yes I was feeling exuberant too. If left alone, I'd be dancing and I would need no music at all. The music in my heart would be enough. Finally! I was where I had wanted to be for a long time now.

I shuddered slightly as I recalled the worst phase of my life. It started about a couple of years ago when my parents decided that I was grown-up enough for them to start looking for a suitable groom for me. Life as I had known it till then took a drastic turn. Being an average looker and also not belonging to the bright as a star category, my chances were not so bright. But I did not know that. I thought that after my degree, my parents would find someone for me. Someone simple but smart enough to realize that what mattered was the person inside. He'd see me for what I was and marry me and together we'd make each other the happiest people on the earth.

Little did I realize what hurdles one has to get over for what I thought was a simple task at that time. What humiliations I would have to go through! How my hopes would soar one day only to be quashed mercilessly the next d. She is not a match for him, wish she had a master's, her nose is not straight enough, we need a working woman, she is not tall/fair enough - the reasons were many but the result was always the same. Unceremonious rejection. The first time it happened, the ground under my feet shook. I could not believe it. Everyone had seemed so nice. The groom himself, a silent and simple soul. Could not believe when I caught bits and pieces of conversations flying around that they had thought I was not beautiful enough! Well I realized I was not the prettiest woman in the world, but hey I did not know I was so ugly that I could be rejected on the basis of my looks. Was that all that mattered? How I looked? That day my confidence suffered a blow I doubted I could ever recover from. How could looks matter so much I had foolishly thought at that time! That was how naive I was.

Those 2 years did manage to do one good thing though. They managed to cure my naiveté and I managed to see some things done, I did not realize human beings were capable of doing. Some of these folks would be so blatantly humiliating while others would go about the rejection in a subtler manner. There is one that I distinctly remember. They did not want any dowry but they wanted a grand wedding. A wedding so grand that whatever dowry anyone had solicited till that time seemed peanuts in comparison. They had so impressively announced that they were so noble that they did not consider burdening the girls' family with dowry. I remember thinking this was it when they had said that they were happy with everything. But before we could fully celebrate the end of the torture of the past year, they dropped the bombshell. A reception to be paid for by us in a 5-star hotel. I remember my father being so shocked that he could not even say a word as he put down the receiver. The look on his face told me all. That it was once again back to the drawing board. Back to the torture.

And yes torture it was. The most Machiavellian kind. Almost everyone in our extended family were briefed with the fact that if at any time they came across a bachelor then they were supposed to refer me to them. Every day everyone in our house would be waiting for the phone to ring expectantly. Every time the phone rang, my mother would almost lunge for it. Most of the times it would be a false alarm. I would watch as her expectant expression morphed into disappointment. Some times I would see her talking animatedly, which would suggest to me that I was going to be put through another test. A test I had no control over but was expected to take and come out with flying colors. Soon my enthusiasm died. So did my expectations. I was fat. I was ugly. I was short. I was not smart. I was not intelligent. I was not dynamic. How could I expect any man to marry me? Even if the man lacked the same things I did. It did not matter. Because he was a man. Oh! How I longed to have been one myself. To have been spared this agony and more importantly spared the agony my parents were going thru.

But no it did not stop. I once grandly declared that I did not want to get married. That I was happy being the way I was. The look of hurt that my mother gave me stopped me in my tracks. She was crying. A strong woman and here she was shedding tears and I was the reason for her misfortune. I vowed that day not to make things worse for my parents than they already were. I was not going to sit with a morose expression whenever another possible match was announced. I was not going to crib and cry about the process. I was just going to remain silent and let things take their course. I did. I went through many acts without a single complaint. Tried to follow every possible advice that was thrown my way by the so-called well-wishers. I was going to try my hardest to put my parents out of their sorrow. But even then nothing worked out. With every rejection I felt like a part of me was dying. I did not know how long I could survive it. My parents aged 10 years in those 2 years. Their worries taking on gigantic proportions as days melted into years. I had almost given up hope and was mechanically going through the motions once again when this match was announced.

"The boy is perfect." Which one had not been?
"The only son from a respectable family." Know all about these respectable families.
"He is based in the US." Aha! On the look out for a beautiful wife to adorn his shelf surely.
"Very good looking." Weren't all of them labeled that no matter what?
"The family just wants a nice and decent girl." What constituted a nice and decent girl?

Yes, the cynic in me was flourishing as I was once again paraded before umpteen people umpteen times.

"They like you and want the wedding as soon as possible!" my mother said with tears streaming down her face. This time they were borne out of happiness. I cried with her.

Oh! There were a lot more tears that were shed in the preceding days. My eyes still seemed to well up with emotion. The last glimpse of my mother before I left the only home I had ever known till that point in my life is - standing there, waving at me, tears flowing and an expression of relief on her face. I did not grudge her the relief, not in the least since I was feeling the same. Finally, I was where each one of us had been waiting for for such a long time – in my husband’s house. I looked around with disbelief. The modest room decked in its own wedding finery. I closed my eyes and let the overwhelming feeling drown me – the feeling that this was it. I could sit back and relax. The battle had been won. I was home. Naïve old me did not realize that the battle had just then began.

“Hullo Seema….I am Raj” he said smiling at me extending his hand and my heart was racing like never before. A part of me had already been in love with him for rescuing me from the wretched scenario my life had fallen into.

I took his hand and he shook hands warmly pulling me towards him. Next morning not just a part of me but the whole me was in love with this man. He seemed to reciprocate my feelings and soon we were an inseparable couple. I would love it whenever somebody would tease the both of us about the same. The term I used to describe myself was you lucky thing you! I wanted to be with him always. I could not wait to embark on our honeymoon.

The honeymoon too as was the scheme of things during this time in my life was a grand, grand success. If we were husband and wife before we became good friends during that period of discovering each other. There was so much I talked to him. My dreams. My frustrations. The agony of the past two years. The joys of teenage. He listened to everything I had to say. A comment here, a comment there exactly the kind of thing that I wanted to hear. He would tease me. He would be serious with me. He’d be nice to me and then be playfully mean to me. He’d care for me and he’d love me. He would drive me nuts and the next moment make me laugh. Could life be any more perfect? I did not think so.

After exactly 2 months and 12 days of being married we were flying out. To another home. This time just Raj and me. Once again I could not wait for this phase of my life to start. I could not think of anything more exciting than to embark on a journey to a strange land with the man I had grown to love so much in tow and make a home for him.

As soon as we landed that’s what I started to do. He had already given up his bachelor residence and moved into a cozy single bedroom apartment. Though it was very small but it was very nicely done. I was already deciding what needed to be done to make it a love nest. After a pain staking couple of months everything that I wanted to do was in place. I was proud of myself as my husband would praise me to the skies. Another point for the new bride!

Soon our lives fell into a familiar pattern. I had no complaints with my life or with my God. Life was just perfect. Just the way I wanted it to be. Everything was falling in place. Just when everybody in our families were getting on our nerves about having a baby, I discovered I was pregnant. My joy was unbounded. No longer would I need to feel bored those lonely afternoons where would look at the clock a million times and will it to move forward. For a change there would be someone who would be dependent of me instead of it being the other way round always! I was excited. Raj was excited. Everyone was waiting with bated breath for the arrival of the baby. And she did arrive. On the morning of Oct 23rd my baby was in my arms. Everything I had gone thru – the intense pain of the last couple of days, months spent taking care of myself as I got bigger and bigger, the fears, the agony of false alarms – everything seemed to melt into that moment. 2 years later I was in the same position as I found myself cooing into the ears of my newborn son. Life kept getting better and better. Going towards perfection. Through all this there was one constant thing in my life and that was Raj. I was truly blessed. A perfect marriage. 2 perfect babies. What more could I want?

After the arrival of the babies my life revolved around them. We had shifted into a bigger house and there were many things to be taken care of. I did not want my perfect life to falter even a bit. So I took to the task of keeping it perfect with a vengeance. And I did for as long as my life was under control. I did not realize that there are things beyond our control. Things that could go so wrong it would leave you wondering how they were right in the first place. One perfect day when the sun was shining its brightest, the birds were chirping their loudest, when the breeze was blowing its gentlest something hit our family. Something that turned my whole world upside down. In a second perfection vanished to be replaced by horror and tragedy. The perfect little world I had created was in shambles!

One moment. One moment that changed everything. The moment before it everything had been all right. Everything in its place and so so perfect. I could not have thought that every moment after that was going to be so drastically different. And one split second changed all that. A split second is all it takes. All it takes to wipe out a life. A split second of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. One second you are crossing the road to buy flowers for your wife and the next second you are hurled in the air by a vehicle you had not seen coming in your hurry not to miss the last express train which would have taken you home. A home where a wife waited expectantly for your arrival. No she does not want the flowers, she does not want the chocolates – she just wants to just hold you close. So close that you can feel how much she missed you during the day. But instead the phone rings. She picks up the receiver with mild irritation. He’s missed the train again and is going to be late once more she thinks. Little does she realize that he’s never going to be late again. Because he is never going to be there again!

I don’t remember how I was able to get through the days that followed. To think I had put down those couple of years spent in searching for an appropriate groom as the worst days of my life. To think that till yesterday the only thing I had to worry about was what to cook the next day. To think that I could talk to the man I loved just by dialling a few numbers or hug him close by just turning my position in the best. Everything was lost but I was still groping blindly for it. The denial phase took over. I believed it wouldn’t be long before he walked through the door. That body lying there all mangled beyond recognition could surely not be his. So what if his wallet was found in his pocket. Anybody could have stolen it. So what if the clothes he was wearing seemed like the same ones that he had been wearing when he had hurried to catch the train after I left him at the staition with a breezy peck on my lips. I could be mistaken too. The cops could be mistaken too. Then I saw it. The wedding ring on his finger. The one I had so painstakingly chose after shopping for a month. The one which fit so snugly in his fingers that it could not fall off nor be removed easily. It still shined with all its brilliance in his lifeless hands. Darkness engulfed me.

How many days passed like that I do not know. Who took care of things I do not recall. But one fine day I woke up and everything around me was silent. Where are the kids? I asked myself with a start. For the first time since tragedy stuck I had a thought that did not have to do with him. My children. My poor poor children. How could I have been so selfish in my grief that I had not take them into consideration. I got up and ran towards their bedroom. Both of them were sleeping peacefully. My! How they had grown. My daughter had a protective hand across her brother’s chest. My heart melted! It seemed so long since I had held them close. Since I had taken care of them. Too long.

I went down to the kitchen. What had they been eating? How had they been coping? Oh! My god! I might have lost the love of my life but they had lost their dad and with the state I had been in might have even thought that they had lost their mom too. Why? God! Why? Why me? Why my children? Why my Raj? Questions to which even God did not have the answers.

I set about making their breakfast. A task I had been doing for the past 10 years. Yet that day I felt like I was doing it for the first time. Nothing was making sense. I sat down, took a deep breath and started again.

“What are you doing?”
“I thought I’d make some breakfast.”
“How many times have I told you not to get up before me?”
“Why not?”
“Coz I’d like to hug and cuddle with you when I wake up.”

“Mommee…Momeeeeee!” a wail rang out. I hurried upstairs. Memories would have to wait.

Friends. Family. What an amazing network they form! If it had not been for them I wonder how I would have survived those days. Everything from informing Raj’s parents, my parents, looking after children, taking care of arrangements was done by people whom sometimes I had not even counted as amongst being our friends. I could do nothing more than gratefully accept all the help that I was getting.

“I am all right ma. I don’t know ma. Yes the kids are coping very well.” I slammed the phone down. What did she want to hear? That my husband had gone out of my life and I was doing fine! What did she expect? This was so hard. So so hard.

“How are you mummy? I hope you are taking care of yourself. Hope Daddy is fine.”
What do you say? What do you say to a mother who had lost her young son. I could now understand where my mother was coming from. What else can you say to your daughter who had recently been widowed except asking and hoping that she was doing well. I am sorry ma. I am sorry!

“You should get a grip on that short temper of yours you know!”
“What temper?”
“The one that is always lurking right here on this little nose of yours!”
“My nose is not little”
“Aww my little little woman. Come here!”

“Mom. Why are you crying? Don’t cry mom”
“Naina…I…I…”
“oh! Mom!”

My children and me sobbing our hearts out. In the middle of the room. Another day without Raj!

(...to be continued)

A team

2005-04-04T15:52:00.000-07:00

"When you want to do something, you don't go about announcing it. You just do it." He said looking at me calmly.

A deep pain slashed through my insides as I looked at him. Stung. Hurt. Distraught. Not a feeling across the face except a controlled rage. Even that was not showing. I could see it because I knew him so well. We looked at each other. I waited for remorse to show. For an apology to show. But no. He stood there with the same expressionless face. Resolute in his fury.

The tears were threatening to flow, but I held them back. No, I was not going to give him that satisfaction. Not after what he had done to me. Not in the face of his strength which hit me like a death-blow. At that particular moment I knew that I had to do it. I had to. There was no looking back. Not at this juncture.

I walked. Walked and walked and walked. Don't know for how long. I don't know how I left. But I did. If there was hope inside my chest that he would come looking for me, I curbed it. I did not want to hope. I could not hope. Hadn't almost a decade of knowing him tell me what to expect and what not to? So I did not hope. I just walked. Walked out of a life I thought had been mine forever. Only forever seems to have a way of loosing itself.

Nobody had said it was going to be easy. On the contrary I was supplied horror stories, countless what-if-things-get-worse scenarios, many I-would-not-do-it-if-I-were you advises - but I still held forth. I am the first to admit that I had no clue if things were going to get better. In fact I did not have much hopes they would, but I knew one thing and that was that things were going to change. And my life was ready for a change. I embraced it with all I had.

There were times. Times when it would seem like it was the end of the world. Times when I would feel like killing myself would have been a better option than walking out of my secure world. A world I had established with a man I know to this day my heart misses a beat for. But what do you do when things go wrong. When every day you wake up you get up with a dread in your heart about the mood of the person sleeping next to you. Uncertainity grips you. Twists you and can ultimately destroy you.

Empty threats. That's what he had called them time and again when through my tears I would rue the fact that I was still living with him. That day it was the same. Except there were no tears. And of course what followed it was different too. I was out of his life. At least I was trying to.

I looked at the calendar. Another day. Without him. Without life like I knew it. I had shifted to a place close to my work. I still had the key to 'our' house. How strange it seemed to address it that way. It was not ours anymore. I was not his anymore. I was just me. Walking into that house when I knew he would be out, I wanted to remain there. I did not want to leave. Everything exactly the way I had arranged it. What would happen if I did not leave? Surely, he would not kick me out. I knew him that much to believe that he would embrace me with open arms. I would just have to say the magical word - I am sorry and this could be all over. The pain, the embarrasment, the acute hurt to the point of tears. Everything would be over if I just sat there without leaving. I did too. Sat on the same spot I would sit with his head cradled in my lap as we would watch a movie, a serial or some silly sports program.

That would be 15-Love. That would make it 30-Love. 30-15. 40-15 now. 40-30. Ah!Deuce. Advantage. Deuce again. Advantage. Game, Set and Match, he would scream in delight as he taught me right from the basics to the finer points of Tennis. No, I was not going to do this. I had to be strong. I could never leave if I start thinking about the good times. I always wonder at how the human mind is organized. It seems to be pretty good at obscuring memories. At keeping the good parts and keeping the bad ones out.

How come I could not remember one bad thing about him. How come every nook and corner held good memories? Or was it that way? Had I been wrong in thinking that every day had been a struggle with him? Wasn't that a wee bit of exaggeration? Could I not remember the day when he had come home with a huge wrapped package? I had been so excited and after removing layers upon layers of packing had come to a packet which contained a tennis racquet. Get ready to move darling, we are gonna have a match, he had said. Days he had spent teaching me how to play. After some twisted ankles, bruised egos, confusing the tennis racquet with a cricket bat and hitting the ball straight out of the ground, shouting matches, I was actually enjoying playing tennis. Not only that, I was pretty good at it.

I shook myself out of it. I could not do it. I had not business doing it. I was there to pack some of my things and get out. If I lingered long, he'd be there. Then what? Would I be able to face him? Would I be able to leave him as easily as I had the last time. There had been pent up rage on my side and blind fury on his. Walking out has been easy. Now that things had cooled down considerably on both sides, I wondered if I would have it in me to leave him a second time.

I panicked. I rushed. Tried to get as many things as I possibly could. Not long before he'd be home. Was that a part of me which wanted him to come home early that evening? Could it be? How could I still be keeping any hope alive in my breast? I shook my head at myself. I started the task of collecting things.

I looked at the mantel. Umpteen trophies with Mixed Doubles Winners/Runners adorned it. I just looked blank at them. I had not a clue as to what I was going to do. I stood there, holding one of the trophies in hand. I heard the front door open but I could not move. I knew he was watching me. I turned. I did not know what to expect. I did not even glance in his direction.

"I was just about to leave...." I said.
"Don't" he mumbled.
"I can't...."
"I know you can't. But we can! I promise." he said.

I looked up. There was no remorse. No regret. No fury in his eyes. Just tears. Glistening right at the surface. I was ready for the former. I was not ready for the latter.

"After all we are a team.I cannot let you go..." he said.
I was in his arms.

"...since you still are not perfect with your back-hand!"

The list - A short story

2005-02-21T07:35:00.000-08:00

"Yes dad!"
"I want to go out for a walk."
"Are you sure dad?"
"Yes, I am. Why do you ask?"
"Its really chilly outside and I don't want you catching a cold."
"Let's go"
"OK dad."

He was surprised I could see that. A sure sign of his father slipping into senility? The question write largely on his face. I smiled.

"Why don't you wrap this around?"
"I don't need it!"
"Dad! Please!"
"All right"

We stepped out. Yes, it was cold. But nothing that I could not manage.

"Careful dad. The step is uneven."
"Its fine. I fixed it yesterday"

I knew he was staring at me incredously. I did not look at him. Did not want to increase his discomfiture.

"Oh! So you got the good-for-nothing caretaker finally got around to doing it then?"
"No, I did it myself."

Suddenly I was alone. My son had stopped. On the step I had fixed.

"You did all this yourself?"
"Yes..."
"But dad...I mean..why? when one of us could have gotten it done."
"Let's go."

"You want go go back dad?"
"No, I am fine"
"We have to walk all the way back you know"
"Yes, I know!"

Silence. All around. Just the shuffling of the feet. An unsure shuffle from my own and a more pronounced one from my son's. On and on and on.

"Dad what are you doing?"
"I am walking..."
"Why are you tiring yourself like this? You know you are going to ache all over for weeks.."
"Yes, I know"

Silence. Once again. All around. Just the shuffling of the feet. My son's unsure shuffle, a disgruntled one even, joining mine.

"Ok let's go back"
"Finally? Are you sure you can make it dad?"
"Yes, I am sure"
"I could call for my wife to come get us you know"
"Let's go"

The step came into view.
"I still cannot believe that you could get into all that trouble. The caretaker could have so easily fixed it...Dad where are you going?"
"Hello Mr. Mehta. How have you been?"

A pleasant 15 minute conversation with the neighbour.

"Let's go in."

"Good morning dad"
"Good morning"
"Breakfast's ready dad"
"Thank you dear."

Paratha and some vegetable curry. Laid out neatly on the table.

"Do you like it dad?"
"Its perfect" Finishing it all up.

"Dad's been acting weird today" I heard him saying to his wife. "Could you please keep a close watch over him. Do not like this sudden change in him."

*tring,tring*
"Hello..."
""
"Yes he is doing fine. He has been up in his room almost all day. I checked on him a couple of times. Nothing seems to be amiss."
""
"Don't worry I shall"
*click*

*tring,tring*
"Yes he's there. Yeah sure...let me check"
""
"He seems to be sleeping"
""
"I'll be sure too..."

*tring, tring*

I was too tired to even eavesdrop. I knew it had to be my daughter. I pretended to be asleep, yet again.

"Good evening dad."
"Hello son."
"So how was your day?"
"Uneventful. How was yours?"
"Wasn't bad. Hey listen dad, do you want me to take you out somewhere?"
"I am fine."

My son. Doing his best. My daughter-in-law doing her best. My other children doing their best. Everyone doing their best. Yet the emptiness remains. How could I forget that they had just carried her away not a fortnight ago? The woman who had lived and walked with me every step of the way. She had stopped breathing a couple of weeks back and my life, as I knew it ended abruptly. No longer was there a hot cup of coffee waiting for me early in the morning, as I emerged from the bathroom. No longer could I turn a deaf ear to her incessant nagging of what all remained to be done the day before and what all had been added to the list to be done for today as I would lurk behind the newspaper. No longer would I be able to taste the omelette she had perfected to my taste that she would prepare for breakfast. No longer could I grumble to her about the change in the breakfast menu when she would just get tired of repeating the same thing every single day. No longer could I glare at her as she would hand me the things to be done for the day. No longer could I pick up the phone knowing fully well who it was at the other end. No longer could I make an excuse for a thing not done that had featured on her to-do list. I clutched the list close to my heart...a hand written one. Her last.

1.Fix the step.
2.Take a long walk.
3.Welcome the new neighbours.
4.Finish your breakfast even if it is not omelette and toast.
5.Give me some peace.

Finally! For the first time in my life, I could rest assured that I had taken care of everything on her list.

And then there was she...

2005-02-02T09:31:00.000-08:00

One foot before another. Not too fast. Just one step at a time. The door seemed too far away. One foot before another. Still too far away. Had to take a break. Looked around to find a chair. Took turns in looking at the door and the chair and guaging how far she was from them. Trying damnest to determine which was closer. The door looked like it was a good 12 steps away. The chair looked more like 5-6 steps. But the light was known to play tricks. Making objects appear closer than they actually were. Now that seemed like a familiar line. Where did she read it before? oh! Legs felt like they were going to give away in a minute. She wished she could sit down then and there. But she could not. Reason you ask? Because she would not be able to get up by herself if she did that. She stood there for a few seconds completely confused. What was she doing in the middle of the room?

She looked around. Everything was out of focus. She felt like she was in the middle of nowhere. Tears began to form in her eyes. She had no idea what to do. Her legs were about to give away. Her walking stick shook. She wanted to call out for help, but the words struck in her throat. The world seemed to whirr around her. Her stick feel making a clanging noise. That brought someone out. She could not determine who it was but she was picking up the stick, one had steadying her frame. Slowly she was walked over to her chair. She could hear some mumbling. She wasn't able to make out the words but could decipher the tone of it. Exasperation. Frustration. The tears that had formed earlier started to slide slowly down her hollow cheeks. Cheeks that once had been full. With high bones. The bones still remained the same, but gone was the fullness, gone was the beauty. What remained was a hollow shell. Just like herself.

The next thing she knew she was rocking in the chair when the urge to go to the bathroom hit her again. Now she remembered what she was doing earlier. She sank back. What to do now? Should she make the valiant attempt once more or call out for help. Both the scenarios sent shudders through her tiny frame. She closed her eyes trying to gather all her strength....

She could do this. It was just a matter of concentrating. She had been reading books all her life. Surely the words would stay in focus and not float about as they were doing if she paid attention. Maybe she ought to bring the book a little bit closer. Maybe turn it towards the light a little more. A little more closer. Ah! The words seemed to be lining up now. She bent her head a little more and slowly the words made more sense. Her joy knew no bounds as she drank the stuff in. 'Look at her...holding the book as if she is going to eat it'. The remark had made her stop making any more attempts. But she did not care anymore. Did not care how the world mocked at her. She had for all her life but not anymore. She was just happy that she could still do some stuff by herself. And that gave her more satisfaction than anything else. Finally! She had broken off the shackles. It had taken her a good 85 years to do that, but she had done it. She had been forced to do it. She just could not afford the luxury of doing things taking into consideration what everyone thought about it. Just the fact that she could do it was enough. She felt a pair of hands as a gentle but firm voice said..."Let's go in your room, Ma". She heard some noises later as she slept. A party going on maybe. In the house she lived in and she was not even invited. She managed to turn around and sought the refuge of a sleeping concious.

"She is doing it again..."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Well because it has happened a couple of times already."
"Maybe its the real thing this time..."
"That's what we thought the last time. But was it? Even the doctor's say that she is doing it for some attention..."
"You are right"
"I know I am. So let's get back to watching the movie..."

Her eyes bulged. She could not believe what she was hearing. Acting to grab attention? What was the world coming to? True, the last couple of times had been false alarms but how could they be so sure it was the same this time around too? Were they doctors or something to decide that for her? And what kind of doctors were these that would down the trauma of a patient to some rule in the book. She wished she had the strength to tell that young doctor off. What experience did he have anyways to diagnose her. She was sure going to make a fuss about seeing the doctor the next time around. Meanwhile the constriction in her throat managed to grow. Her thoughts seemed to have kept it away, but it was back. Back again to almost choke the life out of her. Her hands went to her throat trying to ease the pain. How many times the same hands had tried to ease the pain in others and now they worked feebly to do the same for herself.

She was so sure of it. The doctor wanted to kill her. No question about it. Why would he be prescribing so many drugs if that were not so. What was so wrong with her that she had to depend on these medicines to live? Wasn't she right in creating a ruckus whenever it was time for her to take some medicines. And it looked like it was time every single moment. Time to take her medicines. She could hear the footsteps getting closer. She sat up defiantly.
"You are acting more and more like a small kid!"

A small kid. Her small kid. Who used to turn up his nose whenever he'd catch her coming after him with the tonic. How she would have to run around the house after him, catch him, wrestle him and pour the stuff down his throat. He would throw a tantrum and then she'd have to bribe him with a lot of promises of good things to come when he would get better. She smiled as she thought of her little child. She looked up to see a grown-up man standing at her bedside with a glass of water. The same unruly curls. The same proud expression.But what else did she see in there. Annoyance? Vexation? Or maybe even anger. She slowly took the medicines. It did not matter if the doctor wanted to kill her or not. She already felt dead.

**The End**

Bad Omen

2005-01-19T11:35:00.000-08:00

The dark clouds forming on the horizon signified something ominous. The uneasiness increased. This was a bad omen. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Slowly she advanced towards the huge door. It was an old fashioned big woodeen thing that seemed like it would require two able bodied men to get it to budge. But there was some marvelous engineering which unbeknowst to the eye would allow the slightest touch of the lever to fling them open. But it would take an effort from the doors themselves to move as they would grunt and wheeze before coming to a halt only about half way through. She peered out to see who it was who had beckoned her. There he was standing in the shadows. His face registered some sort of surprise almost bordering on shock. The commotion the doors had caused must have done that to him. They did that a lot. The first time she had been exposed to them as a young bride, she had almost fainted with fright. That had been a really bad omen too. Her married life had been doomed right from the start. What could be expected from a union where youth had passed one by and the other was right on the threshold of it? Her dreams had been quashed right the moment he had made savage love to her binding her to the enormous bed. There had been a cruelty in his eyes, her mother had found hard to ignore. But what could a poor widow do as everyone around her told her how lucky she was that a zamindar had agreed to marry her orphaned daughter. The daughter had believed it too. That it was an end to the life of poverty and drudgery she led with her mother. She did not mind the cruel eyes as long as she had 2 square meals a day. She did, but soon the cruel eyes took their toll. She lived in constant fear of him. She loathed his presence and he knew it. The knowledge made him be around her more. So she killed him one day. Took a knife and sliced it through his heart as he slept. She was surprised at the amount of blood that oozed out. Did human beings really have so much liquid flowing through their bodies? She was amazed and wanted to find out more about it. That started her killing spree. She had beauty going for her as she seduced every man just to slice a knife through his heart. The sight of blood would calm her spirits but make her thirsty for more. Things went on. Her youth and beauty started to fade. Men did not fall for her as they used to. She was struggling with her fantasies. No blood was shed for a whole year. Than years. She was starving now. She came close to cutting herself. But she did not particularly like the idea of pain. So she waited. Waited for some one to knock on the door. And yes he did. She wanted to pounce on him, but she'd have to wait till he was asleep. He was a strong man and could easily overpower her. It was night. She could feel the excitement inside her growing. The knife gleamed beseeching her. It was almost time. He was retiring to bed. Not long now, she calmed her frayed nerves.

"Good Night Ma" she heard him say.

Only she knew...!

2005-01-18T13:54:00.000-08:00

The house. It still stood out the same way. Its dark outline still reaching towards the sky. From where she was, she could clearly make out every detail about the house from the outside. The ivy clinging to it, trying to use the outline to reach for the sky, the bricks that made it up, exposed here and there and the huge set of stairs that led to it. The house itself was located on what could best be described as some sort of small plateau, raising above everything else in its vicinity, the stairs leading to it raising the structure even more making sure that it stood out. Imposing and alone. Only she knew what secrets it hid inside.
The red-gravel path way that led to it was all strewn with leaves. The Silver Birch trees flanking it on either end. Everything seemed to have remained the same. Even after so many years. A shiver ran through her. It was cold, but that was not the reason. The reason was something entirely different. And yes it had to do with the house. The house she used to live in all those years ago. As a child. With her parents. And her brothers.

Something about her was different. She was not the bubbly, naughty 3-year old. There was something about her that scared everyone around her. Her mother even. Her brooding intensity, her highly unpredictable moods that ranged from being completely normal one minute to quietly getting up and locking herself in a room the next. She still remembered how she had walked away from the dinner spread where everyone sat without saying a word. There was a pin-drop silence as her small feet carried her towards the small room. Not one person stirred. They knew better not to. One move from them and she'd be out of control. Lunging, thrashing about, scratching, screaming at the top of her lungs, pulling hairs and all sorts of crazy stuff. Then as suddenly she'd become quiet with a vacant look on her face. So everyone would just watch as she'd make her way to the room. Almost with relief. It'd be a couple of hours before she'd make her appearance again. That meant a couple of hours of being away from her presence. A brooding and scary presence. Only she knew what went on inside her presence.

What she did in the room no one knew. Her brothers had tried to peep in through the key hole once and had got the rudest shock of their lives when the door opened and she stood there staring at them. The boys had just stood there shocked, in terror. She continued staring at them in turns walking to and fro between them. The brothers did not even dare go near the room even when she was not in it. The parents had tried in the beginning to unlock the door. But it would not budge. So they had tried to break it open. They were horrified as the door hit her and injured her badly. She was standing right behind the door when it swung open hitting her badly on the head. They panicked and took her to the nearest doctor. All through she did not say one word. Her mother was sure she even saw a satisfied smirk on her face. Everyone left her alone after that incident.Only she knew what went on inside the room.

Soon things fell in place. Even the weirdest things seem normal after they have gone on for a while. That's what happened with her family. They took her behavior in stride. Yes she was weird, but she was their flesh and blood, so she was loved like her brothers. Even more so sometimes because parents have this soft corner for their not-so-normal children. She was an exemplary child otherwise. Intelligent beyond her years, never fussing over anything, never getting into fights...everything a parent would want from a child. Except of course that she was too perfect for such a small child. Too perfect and too quiet. Only she knew as to what made her so perfect and yet so imperfect.

Some of the well-wishers advised them to seek an exorcist. This was a classic case of a demon taking posession of her body was their . The parents tried doing that. It was a big disaster. The little girl was so scared, she screamed her lungs out. The screams broke their heart. They never tried it again. Only she knew as to what happened to her there.

Strange things would happen from time to time. Like the time their 16-year old neighbor took her out. The next thing they heard was that she had fell in the well and died. Her body was fished out and the doctor confirmed that she had gotten into one of her fits as she was standing at the well. The little girl's family let out a sigh of relief. Only she knew what went on at the well.

Another time it was the case of the kittens. 4 of them. Found with their heads severed from their bodies. Nobody knew if it was the work of the big Tomcat. The brothers knew that their sister had been giving the 'strange-eye' as they called her cold stare just the day before. Only she knew what happened with the kittens that night.

She took a deep breath and started ascending the land form. She remembered the 2 boys squealing with delight, running after each other, sliding down and she remembered her watching them. Giving them the 'strange-eye'. They did not pay attention to her. Not anymore. They had tried to do so, but were always greeted with silence. So they stopped trying even. It was like she just did not exist for them. They did not have the natural love the parents had for her. To them, she was a strange creature. They did not understand nor want her presence in their life. The mother watched her three children. Two of them having the time of her life and her eldest just sitting there staring vacantly at the silly games.

She was almost near the stairs. She looked up. The house seemed even more ominous from near. It stood up like an incrogous and awkward figure not knowing what to do with itself. She felt the familiar dread creeping inside her. But she had to do it. There was no other choice. Suddenly the packets in her hand felt very heavy. The cold breeze stung her hard. But she could not bring herself to rush in. Only she knew what horror awaited her inside...!

**The End**

Letting go - The Conclusion

2005-01-11T09:21:00.000-08:00

I thought I heard something along with the ring. I strained my ears to hear what it was over the din that the TV was making. It was a giggle. I walked towards the family room. The giggling increased. I watched as the little girl sat in front of the TV enraptured by the silly antics of some cartoon character I did not recognize from Adam. I watched her. She was lost to the world around her. Her whole world concentrated on the goings-on in the life of the cartoon character. She sat with her legs folded underneath her, her hands in her lap, she stared in front of her. Giggling from time to time, frowning for a while before breaking into the giggles once again.
"Hello...Hello Sameer..." I could hear my friend.
"I'll call you back" I whispered not wanting to disturb the little one. If I said that it was the most beautiful sight I ever saw, it would not be an exaggeration. The pure joy the girl's face radiated seemed to permeate my being. I found myself grinning like an idiot at her enthusiasm. I don't know for how long I stood there drinking in the joy that engulfed this girl. She turned to me as I was still watching her and she smiled. The same infectious smile. Gone was the painful shyness. She walked towards me.

"Uncle..." she began.

Good Lord. What was she going to ask now. My throat was parched dry. I did not the first thing about taking care of anyone, leave alone a 7-year old girl. Yes, I had promised to take care of someone a bit older but even that I had bumbled and mumbled. I still remember the exasperation in Sonia's face as I'd tell her that I had forgotten to get the milk for the second day in row. She would not say a word. Just take the keys and walk out. I would run behind her and run down the stairs as she'd take the elevator and be standing next to the car just as she made it there, all out of breath. She would smile and we'd go out and get the offending milk.

"Uncle..." she was pulling my hand.
"Uh-huh! Yeah..yes...dear...What is it?" A little stunned at the change in the scenery in my modest apartment.
"I am hungry".

I stared at her. She stared back. The relief I felt was huge. I laughed. How stupid of me not to have offered the girl anything to eat. It was so late in night. I didn't even know if she had managed to eat anything at the party.

"Yes right. Sure. Sure" I walked into the kitchen with her walking right behind me.

I glanced at the top of the refrigerator where Sonia used to keep all the goodies. The cookies, the cakes, the muffins and the bread. It was empty. Not a trace. Just like her presence. Not a trace. I opened the fridge. All I could find in there was nothing close to be fit for consumption for a 7-year old. Not even a glass of milk. I felt sheepish. The girl continued looking at me with her saucer like eyes.

"Umm...I..umm...we seem to have run out of food" I said.
"Oh! I am not hungry uncle" she said.
"What?" I asked.
"I am not hungry at all."
"What do you mean, you just said you were hungry.."
"No, I ate a lot at the party. I forgot."
I laughed.
"But if you are hungry, then you are hungry..." I said.
"Oh no! Its all right.You know. After some time it shal be fine. I will sleepy in some time. Its so dark. Then I do not need any food." she said.
I looked at her. Her face still cheerful.
"Come with me.." I said taking her out.
Brought a lot of stuff that day. Almost everything that I thought was needed for a little girl not to go hungry for a long, long time. How long had it been since I had paid so much attention to grocery shopping. Always it was taking a bite here, taking a bite there. I felt ashamed. Going to bed on an empty stomach bot because I did not have money to buy food but because I was feeling too lowly about myself. And here was this little girl, going to bed on an empty stomach, with the hope that sleep was going to drive away all traces of hunger.

She seemed very, very quiet to me as we trudged along lane after lane, buying all that money could buy. By the time we went back home, munching on all sorts of snacks, a lot of ice between us had been thawed. She was laughing recollecting the antics of a mouse and I found myself laughing with her. Laughing at how the cat fell time and again for the tricks of the mouse. I was amazed at how easily the laughter came to me. I never thought there'd come a day when I'd be laughing so hard, that it was actually hurting my sides.

We walked in. I tucked her in.
"Uncle could you tell me a story. My mother used to..." her voice trailed off.

I jogged my memory. A story fit for a 7-year old. That was a tough one. But I managed somehow. The same old princess in distress, the handsome prince, a few witches thrown in and ofcourse the faithful horse. When she giggled in between, I'd feel like a million bucks. Soon she drifted off to sleep. I did not know who had enjoyed the seesion more. Her or me. I put off the light and cleaned up a little, put things in their place, checked on Raina once more and then off I went to bed. I was so tired that I did not know when I drifted off to sleep. No demons to chase, no memories to languish in, just a deep refreshing sleep. The TV woke me as I smiled thinking of the previous day's events.

The same day seemed to repeat many a time. My life had changed. Completely. I do not know if it was the better or not. All I know is that I am smiling more. Being grateful more for a lot of things. My job interests me more. The suffering around me touches me more. Children attract me more. The memory of Sonia is still there. Very much there. But is fading. I do not feel like choking myself to death everytime I think of her. My life is much too precious to be thrown away like that. A little girl depends on me and I know that I do not have it in myself to let her down. So I merrily trudge along. I have not ruled any possibility out. Even one of Sonia returning. But I have not ruled out falling in love again too. After all life is much too precious to be sacrificed at the altar of love. If not for yourself, you could learn to live for somebody who needs you. Somebody like Raina in whose life I have been able to make a difference. I might have given her a chance, but she has given me my life back. Hope back and I shall eternally remain grateful to her. Letting go. Letting go of a dream.

*The End*

Letting go - Part 4 of 5

2005-01-11T09:20:00.000-08:00

Raina. If Sonia had stormed into my life, then Raina just stole in silently. In fact I did not even know when it had been that she had come in. Even now I cannot say that with surety except that some time after my association with her, I had realized that she was different from anyone I had ever met. I cannot even recollect the first time I met her. Was it in some party or was it somewhere else? At some friends house? My mind is a complete blank. I just do not remember.
Wherever it was, I just remember this painfully thin about 7-8 year old girl serving tea and coffee with a dazed look on her face. I was amazed that I seemed to be encountering her in almost every party I went to. One fine day she appeared at one of my close friends party. The same wide-eyed innocent look. The same awkward appearance. I asked my friend about her. What she told me brought tears into my eyes. The first time where anything other than Sonia had managed to do that. I looked at the girl as she asked shyly...
"Coffee uncle?".

I silently took the cup from her. She smiled. Yellow teeth showed through. A few missing ones gaped. It was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, coming as it seemed to do straight from the heart. I felt lousy about myself. How long had it been since I could say that about myself? When had I smiled like that last? I felt ashamed. How strong the girl must be to be able to smile like that. A street-urchin, a 7 year old girl, all alone in the world, her parents either dead or dying, her sole mode of survival being the pity of strangers and here she was standing in front of me, smiling, like she did not have a care in the world. That she was perfectly happy with her state and I sat there moping like every misfortune in the world had fallen into my lap. I hastily turned away. I could not even bear looking at her. I had to get out of there. As fast as I could. A chit of a girl was challenging the huge amount of self-pity I had managed to hoard for myself. I hurried out of there.

I was almost on my way when I decided to turn back. I did not know that going back to wish the hostess a good-bye was going to have such repurcussions in my life. To cut a long story short, as I made my way in I heard my friend talking about the girl to another woman. I stopped and listened. Apparently everyone had been taking turns in looking after the girl but now everyone was skirting the responsibility. Understandably so. The friend was exploring all her options before being forced to let the girl go. Once again to the streets that she had come from. I shuddered as I heard that.

I don't know what came over me. Call it guilt, call it waking up to some kind of social responsibility or just plain humanity but in a couple of hours I was driving home with a child sitting next to me. Her meagre things lay in a sack in her lap. She was silent. I was silent. I did not dare speak. As I drove up to my apartment, the enormity of what I had done stuck me. One second. One second of impulsiveness was all it took for me to have landed myself in this mess.

"Is that your house uncle?" she asked. Startled I looked at her. The same wide-eyed look. The same smile. She seemed so happy. The mess was not with her, the mess was within me.

I turned the key in the lock. There was only one thought in my mind. What was I going to do? How was I going to manage? Would I be able to take this responsibility on? I fumbled. She waited patiently.

I found something missing in me at that moment. Something was different. Starkly different. I tried to think what it was. I turned the handle to open the door. That's when it hit me. The dread was missing. The dread of coming to a home that did not have Sonia living in it. How many times I had just stood there staring at the lock, willing the door to open. Willing for Sonia to open the door with a - Surprise!. It had never happened. This time around, I had not waited. Yes, dread was there. But a different kind of dread. A dread of having someone in the home with me. Someone so young. Someone who was just a child.

Her eyes brightened as she looked in. I went in. She still stood in the doorway hesistantly.

"Come in." I said. The first words I had spoken to her directly.

She ran inside. I took her things from her. Took her to the bedroom where Sonia used to keep all her stuff. I had not entered it in a long, long time. I felt strange as I walked in. I never thought that I'd be bringing someone to occupy it. But here she was. Raina. Walking hesistantly inside.

I went in to change. I sat on my bed. The enormity of what I had taken up seemed to grow every passing second. I shook my head. This was not how my life was supposed to be. There was supposed to be no one here. I was supposed to be all alone having ample time to mope and cry. What was I doing taking on the responsibility of a 7-year old girl? I, who have never been near children other than those of my friends I used to always keep a distance from. How did I think I was going to carry this out? My mind whirred. I got up to change.

The hot shower managed to clear some of my confusion. There was no way in the world I would be able to do this. I had difficulty looking after myself. There was no way I'd be able to handle the onus of looking after a child. A girl child to boot. I would call up my friend and tell her that I would not be able to do it. I did not want to think of what would happen to Raina after that. Surely, they would do a better job than I could hope to. I got out dialling my friends number on the cell phone.

(..to be contd)

Letting Go - Part 3 of 5

2005-01-11T09:11:00.000-08:00

She had brought umpteen gifts for me. Some very thoughtful, some very frivolous, some downright outlandish. I could not believe that she had been thinking of me so often and then did not have the sense to think that I would have appreciated a phone call from her more than anything else. When I slowly told her the same she stopped dead in her tracks. What happened next I had not imagined in my wildest dreams. She became completely silent. A trait she had never exhibited. One by one she took all the gifts that lay sprawled on the bed we shared and started putting them back where they came from. There was defiance in her demeanour but I did not flinch. Something came over me that told me that it was now or never. Unfortunately the same thing seemed to have come over her too. She did not cease packing with the gifts alone.
Yes she packed a lot of things after that. There were a lot of things that happened after that. My memory is blurred when I think of all the things that happened. In any case they were meaningless. The most important thing was that she had walked out on me. Yes, I had tried to stop her but she was unwilling to make promises of any kind. Unwilling to even say for my satisfaction that she would be more sensitive towards my feelings.

Hours I had sat looking into space trying to decide what the best course of action on my part would be. There was no question that I would be totally lost without her. She had been such an integral part of my life till then, that I had no way of knowing how life would be with her not being that part anymore. Was it going to be anything like what it had been the week she had gone missing? I shuddered. It was going to be worse. It was going to be more than a week. I caught my head in my hands. I could not think anymore. But I had to. I had to come to a decision. Do I just let her go or do I put up a fight? What do I fight for? For her to stay in my life. At what cost? To adhere to her whims and flight of fancies. What about me? Where did I come into the picture? Was it just as easy as packing her things and leaving? Did I not matter a part of how much she meant to me? No, I could not do this. I could not sit there and watch as she tore me to shreds. This was not the first time and this definitely was not going to be last.

I put in a last ditch effort to knock some sense into her head. But she was not to be shaken in her resolve. That was one thing about my Sonia. She would never flinch from taking action on a decision she arrived upon. I sometimes wishes that I had her resovle, her strength and sometimes her sheer coldness. I don't know when she left the next day but I was sure of one thing. There could not have been one tear in those eyes. The eyes that had attracted me to her in the first place.

I don't know what it was that kept me going. Made me function. Maybe it was hope that she would see light and come back to me. Whatever it was, I never stopped waiting for the phone to ring, never stopped waiting to hear her voice, never stopped waiting to look into those eyes again. Never stopped waiting for something I knew in my heart was not going to come to me. Yes it was strange. I had become a stranger even to myself.

Life in the meanwhile went on. Staggered on. I tried a few times to find out from common friends where she had gone but could not get far. Most of them did not know and those that knew seemed to have been sworn to secrecy. It was like she was trying to erase the past and not have to deal with any ghosts. I, on the other hand seemed to be at the same place where she had left me that fateful day. No one can say I had not tried. I had. With everything I had. But when a man loves a woman with everything in his power, lets his guard down to her her in, lets her know that his weaknesses actually outnumber his strengths and that he does not mind just snuggling with her and then everything falls apart. How does one get over it? I decided I could never do that and that she was going to be a part of my life forever. Whether I liked it or not. It just was not in my power not to keep loving her.

It was at this stage in my life that I met Raina.

(..to be concluded)

Letting Go - Part 2 of 5

2005-01-11T09:09:00.000-08:00

The first strange thing that happened to me was when I saw her the first time. The newest member of your team, fresh out of college was how she had been introduced to us. We were all very happy that there was someone who would come in and handle all mundane tasks that none of us wanted to. Someone knowledgeable enough to do that and not experienced enough not to be able to do that. She seemed to fit the bill perfectly with her short stature and somewhat awkward disposition. She exuded a sense of someone who was easy to push around. Who would have no hesistation in pulling out what we needed from a stack on unreadable material. Yes Sanya was what our group needed desperately. There was no question about it. But there was a strange feeling inside me. A feeling that I did not recognize. I think I caught her eye as she hesistanly scanned each one of us introducing ourselves. She looked straight into my eyes. I was blown away. There was no hesistancy about that look. It stared right at you. Almost like transfixing you in place until it left you. I did not know if she had the same staggering effect on everyone but she seemed to have made quite an impression. Now we weren't so sure that she was the push-over she seemed at first glance. The character in her eyes displayed so much more and yes we were right.
Sanya, soon went on to become a very important member of our team. She worked with remarkabale speed that belied her limited exposure to corporate world. The one thing about her that surprised and at the same time earned her grudging respect from every quarter was her direct approach. She would not hee-haw about anything. She would tell you on your face that your request was outlandish and there was no way she was going to get it done. Nothing would work. No arm twisting tactics, no cajoling, no threats about complaining to the mangager. She would stand her ground and more often than not she would be right. Soon people would only approach her if they knew that she would not be sending them away with a 'I can't do it' which amounted to a severe reprimand.

I watched this with amusement. Somehow I felt very proud whenever Sonia would notch something significant. Whenever I'd chance to meet her in the walkway I'd be automatically grinning like an idiot. I did not know what it was about her that attracted me so right from the beginning. Yes, I had heard about love striking you from the blue when you first lay your eyes on someone. But more often than not, this striking would occur when the person in question is either bewitchingly beautiful or was something just as fantastic. Looking at Sonya, I would not say that she was a head-turner. Sure, she was attractive in her own way but she was far from being a perfect 10. She was of medium-height, slenderly built with ordinary features. She had shoulder length hair that she put in a pony-tail or left open. No, it was nothing of the above. For me the magic lay in the eyes. There was something in them. Something that made me want to know more about her. She intrigued me and I was determined to know everything that was to know about her. That's where I erred. The more I got to know her, the more I realized that she always held something back. She was the qunitessential mystery woman. Never letting anyone around her know exactly what was going on in her mind.
"But what would you personally think?" was a question I addressed her often.
"Personally, I would not think anything." would be mostly her repartee. No matter how hard I tried I could not break the wall she built around her. What was she scared of letting the world know about her? I had asked her more than once when we had graduated from being co-workers to good friends.
"Maybe everything" she had said with an enigmatic smile.
I just pursued her more.

"What is it about you that always leaves me with wanting more?" I asker her once.
"Beats me" she said, this time with her trademark wrinkling of the nose. Yes we were going out by that time. Seeing each other as everyone else around it. We were teased endlessly about work ethics. It was more ribbing rather than anything else. But she took it serioulsy. She resigned her job the day we went on our first date. I was to know only the next day. I frantically called her up asking her how she could do something so significant without even letting me have a whiff about it.
"You know how guilty I feel right now?" I bellowed into the receiver.
"oh! Save it. I just found a job that allows me to do everything I wanted to do. I went out with you only after accepting the job. So don't flatter yourself" she said.

I did not know whether to laugh or cry. So I did neither and just hung up. I still remember how peeved I had felt that she had not deemed it important enough to tell me about it. It has not been a few hours earlier when I had gone to bed thinking that finally I had gotten to nail quite a few things about Sanya, but apparently not. There was always something that I did not know about her and no matter how close we became to each other, this trend continued much to my chagrin. There were frequent fights over this. We argued and argued and never reached to a conclusion. And one fine day she decided it was too much for her. She walked out. I was too stunned to react. I just stood there, a mute spectator as she gathered her things. I could not even make out if it was sadness on her face of it was relief. That's how little I knew about her even after living with her for over a year.

I did not even try to stop her. What was I going to say to her? What was I going to say to a woman who did not think it was important enough to let her partner know that you were going to be out on vacation for a week. Her excuse, a lame, I thought I did. How many thoughts had gone through my mind. How many times I had picked up the phone to file a missing person's report. How many people I had called up before finally coming to know that she had taken a week's leave from work. How completely humiliated I had felt when that person had said..."oh! she did not tell you?"

I had decided that moment that enough was enough. That I was not going to sit back and let this woman walk all over me. What was even more hurtful was that she did not call me once during her trip. Not once. I had waited and waited for her call. Surely there was some mistake somehwere. Maybe a misplaced note, an erased message, I hoped against hope. I knew in my heart of hearts that this was not true. I raged like a mad man. But even amidst all that anger, one thing stood out. How much I missed her. I hated myself then. That I could pine for someone who had not even thought it fit to let me know, the person she lived with and claimed to be in love with.

The day she returned I was unprepared for her arrival. I thought she'd come back on Sunday. But she surprised me there too. I was blankly watching TV when the door opened and she rushed in. I waited to all my pent-up rage to burst forth but nothing of that sort happened. I just felt a overwhelming sense of relief that she was back. I hugged her tight the familiar feeling of never wanting to let her go invading me. Yes love does strange things to you.

(..to be contd)

Letting Go - Part 1 of 5

2005-01-11T09:06:00.000-08:00

"Forgive me." She said.
I nodded.
"Forget me." she said.
I did not nod. I stood there. Numb. With no feeling whatsoever. A void creeped inside me. A void that I still carry with me wherever I go. How many years had it been? I remember counting the hours, the days..had they really turned into years? I still counted hours and days, even after all these years.
Time heals is what I've heard many a time. I still found myself waiting for time to bring its healing powers. It refused to come. It just flowed passively without bringing any relief. I would watch the world go by from my 3rd floor balcony. But for me it seemed to stand still. Very still.

Love does things to you. Things that are just not you. It threatens to devour a lot of things in its path, the foremost being your self. It transforms you completely. You would think that it is done with you. You will be mistaken. It is not. It does not let go. Just when you think its been a couple of days since you thought of her, love rears its ugly head. A moment. A song. A movie poster. A huge tree. A slight drizzle. A familiar street. A frequented store. Something very insignificant catapaults you to where you were before. Right where you started. Don't you realize you cannot extricate yourself? Why you ask? Because there is no 'self' remaining in you. I have taken over it...it mocks. Most of the times, you just give in. But sometimes you feel like declaring a war. And you do. Letters ripped apart. Card burnt. The flower in the book thrown away. Memories forcibly restrained. Around friends. In parties. Shopping. Trying to have a good time. Then there comes that moment again. You are standing amidst loved ones surrounding you from every angle and yet you never felt lonelier. Not even when she was leaving you. At least she was there.

You admit defeat. Head for home. Rescue the flower from the trash can. Try to glue togethere the pieces of the torn letters declaring undying love. Grab whatever unburnt pieces of the cards and stash them away in their place. It is with a relief that you let the memories swamp you. It is still not clear what is harder? The memories or what it takes to keep them at bay. Your entire soul. Exhausted you fall asleep. You just cannot fight any more.

After 4 years you would think that incidents such as these were a thing of the past with me. I would think so too. But I am sorry to disappoint when I say that it is absolutely not the case with me. The cycle occurs time and again. Time and again. Almost so much that I have got used to it. Got used to missing her. Got used to my frequent wars with love. Got used to her memories. Got used to love itself. But never got used to her absence in my life. Something told me I would never get used to it.

Sanya. That was her name. Not Sonia she would say with a wrinkle in her nose. The nose that barely existed, a lot of us would joke, me being the most vociferous of all. But yes I was the first to admit that the wrinkling of her non-existent nose was attractive. Very attractive. I would do a lot of things just to get her to wrinkle her nose. The best way to get that reaction out her. Call her as Sonia of course.

My Sonia. Yes she was still my Sonia. Sanya to the world. My Sonia to me. Yes love does strange things to you.

(..to be contd)