The Key

She woke up feeling well rested and yet she panicked. She remembered setting up the alarm at 6AM before going to sleep. Did she miss the alarm? That sounds unlike her. Did she set it for AM or PM. She quickly grabbed her phone to check the time. It was only 5:45AM. She sighed. Her biological clock sometimes shocks her, while ideally, she should be glad. She finally smiled as she glanced at the wall with her family’s photographs. There was one with her parents. Another of her son on his first birthday. And one with her husband from one of their trips to Maldives before their son was born.

Today is a big day for her family She was going to collect the keys of their home. Her parents were in native place, attending a temple festival. Her husband had gone to stay with his parents and brother for few days along with their son. There was no one around to go with her on this big day. They had been waiting to obtain the keys since the occupancy certificate was granted. It was their dream home. A duplex villa, surrounded by trees and close to a metro station.

She continued to smile as she stepped out of the bed and went ahead to freshen up. She was still smiling when she made an aromatic filter coffee for herself. She walked towards the balcony and sat in her favourite spot. The golden hues of sunshine were slowly spreading, and the birds were already chirping.

She was happy after all. The fact that all her loved ones were away should not make her feel lonely or depressed. She didn’t want to ruin the present and the warmth of a beautiful day. She knew that their thoughts were around her. And anyways, it was not that big a deal. All she had to do was to drive to the site and collect the keys!

Obtaining the keys were important to start with the interior works which would help them move in as planned. The keys were supposed to be handed over two weeks later. But the builder surprised the by completing the work ahead of the schedule. 

Her friends didn’t understand her. They asked, “what! It’s a big day? You are doing that alone? Are you sure you don’t want to wait for your family to return?" Thankfully her family said, “just video conference us. We will be there for you”. Maybe that’s why she adores her family. They are understanding and never stops her from moving forward. She is very much like that. She doesn’t like to control others. Maybe that’s the key to happiness. To live and let others live. As long as no one is hurt by one’s words or actions, everything is fair. Afterall, all is fair in life.

With a smile still plastered in her face, she went ahead to get ready.

Changing Tides

“This world seems awfully quite", remarked the phoenix. His eyes, dark as night, piercing from the tip of mountain top far into the mountains, his vantage point! It had become a habit to venture out when the night lights blind the stars into oblivion and the night owls hoots in the streets. With the lights dimmed out, even our friend was confined to his abode, unable to take flight without risking humans’ sight!

"Ahhh humans!" remarked the magnificent bird, "peculiar lot I must say! Mammals they are indeed, but do they really fit the bill? For the only thing they bring with them is Carnage and destruction! They storm a location, green and lovely, teething with life, but by the time they leave, all that's left is a grey hue of death! They fight amongst themselves for the resources and kill their own kind for want of control! Greed infests the very fabric of their being! For it is only a fool would believe that the mother nature could be controlled - a virus none the less, no mammal I tell you!"

A few steps behind in his aviary, there appeared to be movement. Alarmed by the intruder, the phoenix exclaimed "Halt who goes there!". His voice piercing the silence left behind by the absence of screeching jets.

'Forgive me, oh mighty bird" requested a squeaky voice. "I am just a mouse in search of food. The humans that I rely on are nowhere to be found."

"Help yourself, oh little one", remarked the phoenix, "I too couldn't make sense of this sudden silence. With this haunting silence and dark nights everywhere, I miss the flights atop human cities, gawking at those misers spend their lives bickering behind money and spoiling their lands. Don't know what has gotten into those genius imbeciles!"

"I heard they are held up in their homes for fear of death doth surround them!"  Squeaked the mouse.

"Death!" exclaimed the phoenix, "Isn't that humans trade in, use to fill their reserves, exploit as a weapon and barter for coppers nevertheless?"

"Yes, my Lord! But this time it's a unknown threat, something the monkeys cannot comprehend." replied the mouse

"What could be so intriguing that eludes the mind of one who has tamed the oceans, controlled fire; split the very atom to its core" asked the bird.

"It's a virus sir, a silent killer that is on the loose, and the only way humans could avoid it is to shut their lives and stay packed in their houses" replied the mouse

"Oh, sweet mother nature! You did strike where it hurt the most", remarked the phoenix. "Those wretched creatures deserve this! I don't realize these plains anymore, having roamed them for eons, never have I seen an animal so destructive and so devoid of empathy as the human monkey! They have made a joke of our mother and this is what they deserve. I am sure not even in this state is despair would they learn to come together, to be one against the common enemy, but find bits and pieces to conjure up a sense of insecurity to fight amongst each other, only to lose and burn in eternal fire."

"But sire how do you emerge from the fire unharmed? Is it some dark magic?" probed the mouse.

"A flower at its prime never thinks it will one day turn to dust", answered the phoenix, a smile running down his face. "I only burn and crash when I know this body has had enough and I accept it's end is near; the cycle of life and death is something even I cannot elude. The magic is in acceptance, to see that my ways need to be corrected and to change myself into a new form, a new being - a new me! That is when I surrender to my fate, burn like the eternal flame, only to emerge from the ashes with a newfound purpose! If that's what the humans do, introspect on their ways, on their hate, maybe someday they too can rise like I do.

“But the question is - will it be a new beginning or is the end for this vile creature? Or is it just another passing phase? Time should tell".

Note: Locomente collaborates with a friend, who prefers to be identified with his pen name ‘ace’. One of the discoveries of these lockdown days is that he writes. Looking forward for more collaborations in future Arun!

Where Are You?

Where did you go?" I asked aloud. But there was no one around to answer.

I asked again and again.

"Look within. That's where he is. Because you are nothing but him", the inner voice said.

A Page from weekend

She got up early with an excited smile and energetic demeanor. Weekdays are always fun, isn't it? As if a little reward for the monotonous weekdays. Wake up - cook - eat - get ready - travel to work - work - eat - work - travel back home - clean - eat - sleep!

Weekend, on the contrary, is full of fun. It gives an opportunity to look different, explore different things and live a little differently.

That weekend she decided to doll up and walk around random streets. What can be more interesting than exploring a new place? But, somehow she ended up in a shopping outlet. It was new and she had not been there before. She thought it would be fun to do some window shopping and see the new trends of the seasons.

The security greeted with a smile and welcomed her with a shopping bag. She tried to control the urge, but she fell for the styles and fabrics.

While waiting in the long queue near the exit, she looked at the overflowing shipping bag. "Do I really need them?" She wondered. She left the shopping bag nearby and walked through the exist.

It was sunny yet out of nowhere breeze hit her, as if hugging her for the small step she took - to step out than be caged within the illusion of happiness. Can happiness ever be bought? Can good memories be made as easy as swiping the card across the machine?

These questions seemed philosophical to her. But sometimes it's alright to do something totally different, isn't it? After all, it's weekend!!!!

Baby

F

amilies just happen.  Nobody gets to choose them. Of all the people, I know this pretty well. However, I have to admit that sometimes I don’t understand the concept of family. Does that only mean blood relations? If that’s the case, I have no recollection of my biological family. Aditya and Shraddha say that I was just two days old when they held me in their hands and brought me to our home. They say that I am that bundle of joy which not only brought them together but gave them a reason to move on in life. As far as I am concerned, they are my family; my life. The humble yet elegantly furnished 2BHK apartments in East Bangalore is my home. The balcony with grass carpet, several pots of plants and a swing is my favorite spot in the house.

Often I sit next to Shraddha on the beige couch in the living room or snuggle under Adi’s feet rested against a warm rug. Sometimes we watch movies together and I would be sitting between them; their hands around me. They never say no if I nuzzle their nose or ears. That’s what I love about them. They never get bored of me.

Sometimes when Aditya’s mother visits, she gets hysterical seeing me jump on the king sized mattress in the bedroom. She would shout at me and shoo me away. When I think about it, I realize that she has never beaten me up. Probably because she knows that her son and daughter in law would not like it. I am their baby and that’s what they call me. My name sounds so beautiful when they say it. It makes me feel like I could do anything for them; that I should listen to them.

When I am bored, I play with my toys or simply run around the house. When I am tired, I would sit in the balcony and observe Adi and Shraddha. I have to tell you that they look very good together. Adi is tall with a wheatish complexion and athletic body. He is a fitness freak. He never misses his morning jog with me. It is a delight to see him patiently tolerating my tantrums at times. His hair is always well-kept and I have to tell you that he is pretty obsessed with it. If Adi ever gets irritated by me, it should be because I messed his hair. And we all have a problem, don’t we? We often do what we are repeatedly asked not to do. More so when we also know that it is harmless! Another reason why I love to do that is because if Shraddha is around, Adi would give a desperate glance at her and she would start giggling.

I love that smile. In fact, I know each and every movement as if captured in slow motion. First, she would lift her right eyebrows and slightly nod her head. Then, closes her eyes until her smile becomes wide enough to showcase her perfectly aligned teeth. She would look down and move her head from left to right. Finally, she would look up and lock eyes with Adi for a micro second. And then, in a fake irritated voice she would say, “Baby! How many times have I asked you not to do it?” As soon as I hear that I would withdraw myself from Adi and snuggle under his feet until he gently touches me. Sometimes, if Shraddha is in a playful mood, she would also join in ruffling Adi’s hair. Adi’s helplessness would make Shraddha giggle. Then, she would kiss him on his ears and on my forehead. Shraddha is moderately tall and very petite. Her hair is short, accentuating her high cheekbones and sharp nose. Her beauty lies in her fragility.

Of late, I just sit on the balcony and stare at our family photograph hung in the living room. It was taken when we had gone on a road trip to Coorg. I hate long drives and road trips. But, Shraddha and Adi love it. And, I love to see their childlike enthusiasm while planning a trip and exploring new places. Sometimes, I sit in the front seat. But, mostly I stretch across the backseat with my favorite toy lying next to me. I also glance through the windows and see the trees vanishing rapidly. For a second they are just next to me. But in no time, they disappear. This nearness and distance would make me philosophical too. I mean, think about it. In life, some people come. They become integral part of our lives.  They start influencing our behavior and emotions. And boom! They just disappear like a firefly. But, in that limited time, they spread light and happiness; touch your soul.  However, those smiles and the related ideas of how they spread happiness seems likes a distance dream now. With each passing day, my life is turning into a nightmare for which there are two reasons.

Firstly, Adi and Shraddha don’t talk to each other anymore. If they talk, it would end up in a long and unpleasant argument. They watch no movies together or sleep in that king sized mattress. I miss snuggling next to them. Adi often comes home late and dozes off on the couch in the living room. Shraddha would remain distracted most of the times. Either she would be crying or remain irritated with almost everything. But, she never shouts at me. These days, she hardly sits idle. She would be trying new recipe and give everything to the neighbor’s maid. Next day the maid would be happily explaining how delicious the food was and how her children enjoyed it. Shraddha, however, would only be half listening, focusing on the new cuisine in progress. But, I would be in tears as a mute observer because only I know that Shraddha didn’t taste a bit of it. Neither did Adi. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time we ate our food together.

Secondly, I am feeling unwell; as if death is approaching me. I know that sounds weird. After all, no one knows when they would die or when anyone would die for that matter. But, I know. I feel like I am connected to some strange network which sends me signals of death. Well, death has never scared me. I think that the only truth and certainty is death. In fact, I don’t understand why people fret so much about it. If you ask me what is the most awesome aspect of life, I would say death! But then, I secretly wish that the connection sending these signals dies instead of me. As I said, I am not scared of death. But, I just don’t want to die now. If I do, Shraddha would be alone. But, isn’t death inevitable? Icing on the cake is that I don’t feel like eating anything. I know it sounds ironical. Still. How can I eat when Shraddha is starving; when Adi and Shraddha are fighting? Apart from being a silent observer, I wish I was deaf also. Having said that, I don’t think it would help. Melancholy has strange vibes. It always connects to the bleeding heart and ensures that you bleed to death. The home which was once warm and cozy has transformed into a mansion surrounded by cold walls; enveloped by eerie silence. But, silence doesn’t bother me anymore though they are always deafening. In any case, it is far better than the arguments between Adi and Shraddha.

“Dhachu, will you please get ready?” Adi requested after the afternoon brunch. Unmindful of Adi’s watchful yet concerned eyes, Shraddha continued to clean the sparkling kitchen.

“Are you listening to me? What is wrong with you? We have to leave in an hour. Otherwise it will be too late”, Adi pleaded.

“Adi, I am not coming. Baby needs me. I can’t leave Baby alone and go with you”, Shraddha said while rearranging the vessels in the cabinet.

“You are not a good liar Dhachu and you know that. Why don’t you look at me and tell me what is stopping you?” Adi asked while cornering her.

“Adi, when we knew that I could never bear a child, I suggested separation. You asked me to shun those old fashioned thoughts and told me that we are progressive enough to make peace with it, didn’t you?” Shraddha broke down. “Now what is suddenly wrong with you? Why are you behind my life and forcing me to do everything differently?” Tears escaped from her eyes like a prisoner freed from jail. Maybe it was the tone, I moved away from Adi’s feet and sat on the couch.

“Dhachu, I am not forcing you. I am only pleading. Please listen to me. I still say that we are not old fashioned. It’s been almost ten years since we knew that we can never have a child. After convincing you for a year, you agreed to adopt Baby. And now Baby is nine years old and almost dying. What’s next Shraddha? Adopt another one? Or mourn for Baby all our life? What is your plan? I have tried my best to explain why you should come with me. And I am tierd now. I am so very tired. Baby will also be gone. Then what? Tell me Dhachu. Please tell me. What will we do when Baby dies?”

“Adi, did you just say Baby is dying?” Shraddha’s voice was quivering and was barely audible. For the first time I understood why they were fighting. They were fighting because of me. I was the anchor that was holding them together. Now they are afraid that my absence would kill the relationship which they have lovingly built over so many years. It was not the first time Adi and Shraddha were fighting. But, I knew that this is not going to be similar to the arguments they have been having so far where Adi would yell and storm out of the house. I would run towards Shraddha and cuddle close to her. She would hug me with those slender hands and bury her face against the warmth of my body. Slowly, I would be feeling the hotness of her tears drenching my soul; tearing it apart. I would helplessly wish to tell her that everything would be alright soon. Or something like I am there for you. But, I would be too scared to move. So I would just rest my head on her lap.

“Yes, that’s what I said. Baby is dying. Its better you accept that fact, Dhachu. Didn’t we know this all along? Since the day we held Baby in our hands? Baby’s sickness is killing you. I cannot see this anymore. Please listen to me. Get ready and come with me. Trust me please. Will I do anything that would harm you?” Adi pulled Dhachu closer to him and she started sobbing uncontrollably.

I was in tears too. I wanted to run towards them and nestle next to them. But I didn’t want to do that. In fact, I wanted to disappear; like a vapour. I wish I had an Invisibility Cloak like Shraddha’s favorite Harry Potter. I silently walked across the living room and sat on the balcony. I noticed a young couple walking across the street. The man was holding a small baby whose excited eyes were wandering everywhere and the woman was carrying a couple of grocery bags. They were walking in silence, but there was peace. Unlike Adi and Shraddha, I thought. 

I do not recall when I fell asleep. But the sound of thunder made me jump and I rushed into the bedroom. I was so terrified that I crawled under the cot and fell asleep again. When I opened my eyes, there was only darkness around me. I did not know what time of the night it was. I searched for Adi and Shraddha. But, they were nowhere to be seen. However, I noticed that they had left food for me and I half-heartedly had that. A strange discomfort started hovering around me. It was past midnight and the signals of death reached out to me again; this time stronger than usual.

I restlessly started walking around our house. I was panicking and hoped Adi and Shraddha came back home soon. I knew that it was getting late enough to be worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the door? I turned back with relief. I rushed to the door and impatiently waited.

Adi walked in and I started jumping in joy. He then pointed his fingers towards the door and I saw Shraddha holding a baby in arms. Her eyes were swollen and I knew she had cried a lot. She looked at me with a smile and walked inside. I didn’t jump on her. I didn’t want to scare the sleeping baby. I followed her. She walked into the bedroom and carefully placed the baby on the bed. Both Adi and Shraddha sat on either side of the baby and I was uncertain about what I should be doing. Suddenly, I felt like an alien. I felt like I am not their baby anymore. Tears started to roll down my eyes.

Adi noticed it and he walked towards me. He drew me close to him and urged, “Baby, that’s Nainika. Promise me that you will be her big brother and take care of her. Come on. Come on. Give me your promise”. I promised him and he ushered me towards the baby. I have never seen a baby in such close proximity before. She was so tiny. So were her feet, fingers, nails, lips and ears. And eyes? They were like a thin line drawn across face. Her face was perfect round and hair straight. I knew that she would grow up to be more beautiful than Shraddha. Strangely, she looked like a miniature version of Shraddha – fragile. I rested my head on her little stomach which was going up and down to the rhythmic tune of her breathing. Of course, I didn’t let my weight bother her. I just wanted to feel her warmth. Shraddha pulled me closer to her and started sobbing again. There was a mix of happiness and sadness in her face. We sat there like that for some time. Later, when they went to sleep, Nainika was placed in between them. I looked at them with a sad face. I was about to turn and go to the balcony when they made some space for me. I carefully jumped onto our bed and happily laid next to Nainika.

I don’t know for how long I had been asleep. I opened my eyes and looked towards Nainika. Her tiny hands were holding my ears. I was afraid to move. I didn’t want to disturb her sleep. In fact, I didn’t want to disturb anyone in my family. I looked at Shraddha. And then, at Adi. Tears rolled down my eyes. I felt thankful and happy for having a wonderful family like this. I closed my eyes.

In no time, darkness shrouded and silence followed. Signals of death got disconnected. I was at peace.

This one for you!

Raman was an employee in a small shop that handles old newspapers, magazines, books, plastics and glasses. His daily job was to categorically segregate the bundles of wastes, pack it and transport it to a dealer in city nearby. He lived in a very small town where everyone knew each other by name and farming was the major source of livelihood. Raman’s employer was also the landlord and he worked there part time. In his free time, he would go through the old magazines, books and newspapers. Most of the times, buildings and landscapes used to awe him. Sometimes, he would cut a picture and take it back home to his 6 years old son, Gokul. Gokul would look at the picture too and sketch it in his notebook.

“Appa, this one is for you”, he would say and gift it to his father. Raman would swell with pride looking at the perfect sketch made by his son.

Years pass by. Raman’s biggest treasure is the pencil sketches of his son, safely secured in an old iron trunk. Gokul secures a distinction in his tenth standard and gets a scholarship to study Science in a renowned Government school in the city nearby. He becomes hero among his classmates due to ability to draw beautifully. He gets valuable gifts for helping them in updating their practical books. One day, he gets a pack of watercolors. Gokul tries to color his sketch, but fails. He feels bad. But, with the help of some friends who let him explore internet, Gokul learns how to play with colors. Soon, his friends start gifting him paints and canvas in return to drawing pictures in their practical books.

One day, his teacher stumbles upon one of his painting books and gets awestruck by its sheer brilliance shining with perfection. As she turned the pages she saw the serenity of Taj Mahal, colorful lanes of Venice, bustling roads of London with the Big Ben in the background, the majestic Tanjavur Brihadeeswhwarar Temple and many more. There were vivid landscapes too which were nothing less than a photograph. And the mighty looking Indian Gods and Goddesses. She calls Gokul and asks where he learnt them. He says he learnt it from his father. An astounded teacher meets the father. Soon she understands that he had only shared the photographs to his son. But, the son recreated them with pencils and colors. She realizes that the father taught his son to dream, beyond the limitations of the border and economic constraints. She organizes an exhibition in the school and invites media attention. His paintings and fame go viral due to the social media. People across the world start appreciating his painting. He starts making a lot of money. He feels at the top of the world because his passion was bringing fortune to him.

“Appa, this one is for you”, he walks to his father with an envelope in his hand. His father opens it and doesn’t really understand what it is. He looks perplexed and confused at the same time because he had thought it would be another painting which he could cherish in his old iron trunk. Gokul smiles and says, “appa this the flight tickets to the world tour. We are going to see all those places whose pictures you have been bringing to me”. Raman’s eyes well up. He hugs the boy and thanks the almighty as his eyes wander across the home until it rests on the photograph of his wife.

A Gift!

She hesitated a bit. Her mind was sending contradicting signals, further confusing her.  But she chose to listen to her heart – a little fragment of herself which she always ignored.

First, she unblocked him in the Facebook. Then, she went through his timeline and noted that he looks the same – the same smile that always made her eyes smile. His unruly hair making him look more boyish than he was. It was his birthday and this was the gift she gave for herself. She was scrolling down his words and thoughts. She smiled when she noted silly spelling mistakes and jumbled letters. “He always does that”, said a happy voice within. The more she scrolled down the more she realized that he was looking at life at a macro level – economy, society, languages, borders, politics and what not. There was nothing personal which said he missed her. Or that he felt alone without her. Or something that could remind her of their days together. All his posts were distant and wider. She felt a little irritated. Is she the only one missing him day in and day out? In spite of a decade long separation, why she cannot fall asleep without thinking about him? Why does he still peep into her dreams regularly? And why do those dreams seem so real; as if he really pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. As if he spooned her that night until she fell asleep against the warmth of his breadth. She closed her eyes and heard his voice in her head. She opened them and felt his presence around. She was missing him. She imagined his fingers entwining with hers and his shoulders brushing hers. She relived those good old days in her head and jolted back from reverie. She was still smiling when she closed Facebook window.

Aren’t memories and dreams only hope to keep moving on in life, she wondered.

Sky - The Only Truth

Nights are always dark. But that night was a little too dark for it was a no moon night. It looked like the stars had gone for a vacation too. She wanted to gaze at the sky and be lost in thoughts. But the emptiness and the obvious darkness made her feel a little lonesome. But she shrugged away those thoughts. 

"Think something positive. The universe is listening", she urged herself. 

But, nothingness and cynicism had become a way of her life. She didn't know any other way. She had seen many people come and go like the passing clouds. They had briefly stayed in some beautiful forms only to be disintegrated from her world. 

"But I don't want to be a victim of time", she told herself. 

She wanted to forget the sun and the moon. Or the numerous clouds and stars. After all, she was the sky - the truth. That thought made her smile. 

Sky is the most underrated truth of the universe. The sun might set and the moon might be a suffered of mood swings. The stars might go unseen and the clouds might meander. Even the mother earth might lose her patience. But the sky never falls down. That momentary realization gave her the much needed peace. 

She braced herself for the new life that was waiting for her...

Opposites Attract?

"Adi, we both are so different. I'm not sure how this is going to work out", I had asked Aditya several years before.

"Come on Shradha you know opposite attracts", he had winked.

It was still a time when he was madly in love with me and I was uncertain about accepting the proposal. After several months of relentless coaxing, I accepted his love. Rather, I confessed that I have always been in love with him. I thought that it was just a beginning of an amazing togetherness and I was excited too because my life looked crystal clear; the certainty factor often overwhelming me.

Years passed. Seasons changed. Mobile phones came and they were even replaced by smartphones. We migrated from STD calls and moved towards video calls. We also moved on from a time when photograph of a loved one was cherished like a priceless treasure; apart from hiding it from parents, siblings, friends and even a random stranger. And we smoothly transitioned to the current scenario where photograph is just a DP away!

When everything around us changed, one thing remained constant between us - we continued to remain opposites!

Eventually, when our worlds drifted apart. I struggled to move on. But, he easily held another girl's hand and happily refreshed his life.

"Everything happens for a reason Shradha", Adi had remarked before leaving forever.

"If that's the case, why did we even meet Adi", I had reasoned.

"Past is past. You can't undo anything or drown in an ocean of regret. So better accept the reality and look forward", he preached.

I was in no mood to understand his philosophy. At the same time I didn't want to drown in any ocean of regret. After all, I knew that I shall always cherish the times spent with him. Maybe I always knew that our relationship would not have the "happily ever after" tag attached to it. Maybe that's why I had asked him how things could work out between us because I felt we were poles apart. I am emotional, he is practical. When I used to plan for the future, he used to live for the moment.

I wish I was like him too.

Life of a Leapling

“Finally… Happy birthday my dear”, said Aashitha and kissed her husband Ryaan on the lips.

“Do you know how old you are?” asked Aashitha as she led Ryaan towards the birthday cake. Aashitha had baked the cake by herself with chocolate icing, Ryaan’s favorite.

“Well, tell me how you calculate your age?” Ryaan asked holding knife in one hand and Aashitha’s waist in another.

“Based on the number of birthdays, of course”, Aashitha said thoughtfully and kissed under his neck. Ryaan was tall, but Aashitha was not. If she stands on her heals, she would reach Ryaans’s neck and would always kiss him there only. “Neck is the new forehead”, she used to tease during early days of their courtship.

“In that case, I must be ten years old” Ryaan winked.

“Of course, but our son is almost two years old and your wife is thirty two”, Aashitha made a fake face and gestured to cut the cake.

“Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to Ryaan… Happy birthday to you!!!” she sang in her sweet voice. Meanwhile, Ryaan blew the ten candles and cut the cake. He gave a piece to Aashitha. She gave her share by kissing on him on mouth.

“Best birthday cake ever”, he said wiping his mouth with the sleeves.
“Dirty goose. How many times have I asked you not to wipe your mouth with sleeves”, Aashitha said.

“Oops! I forgot that I am with THE wife”, he said playfully, drawing her closer to him.

“Aha! Then what did you think I am?”

 “Girlfriend”, he said matter of fact.

“Yeah… Yeah… Whatever the birthday boy says.”

“And I get this opportunity once in four years only”, he made a sad face. She imitated him and gave him a bear hug - his first birthday in their four years of married life.

PS: Dedicated to all the leapling!

Beyond the Horizon

“

So, what did you guys talk about?” I asked Aditya, my fiancé. He was telling me that he had met his college friend, Varun, after ten years.

Aditya and I have been childhood friends. The decision to get married was gradual and seemed natural. Although we had initial apprehensions about whether it would work out and if we would be compatible with each other, we agreed to give it a shot.

“Come on, we have known each other forever”, I smiled.

“Yes, it’s better to be with someone with whom we are comfortable than to take a giant leap and be with stranger, with the hope of some magic to happen soon”, he agreed. This had happened a year before when both our parents and family wanted to get married and settled down.

“Well, the usual stuffs. Varun doesn’t want to get married. But his parents are behind him. He has avoided the topic till now. But, now he feels that he can’t it anymore”, Aditya said.

“But what is the problem? Why doesn’t he want to get married?” I asked as a matter of fact.

“Come on dear, now please don’t sound like that random aunty we meet on other’s wedding.”

“Arey no! That’s not what I meant. It’s okay to decide not to get married ever. But there must be a reason. It’s okay to say I will marry after five-ten years. Or I have a girlfriend or boyfriend. Or just say that I am uncomfortable with this arranged marriage thing”, I explained.

“Shraddha, marriage is a personal decision. I don’t know why the entire world has to suddenly be involved with your life and force you to take a very personal and intimate decision”.

“I know that Adi. I am just wondering why he doesn’t want to get married. When he is old, what if he feels like he made a wrong choice? We are his friends, you see? Didn’t you ask for the reason?”

“Of course, I did”, Adi said and bit his lips.

“Okay”, I mumbled and didn’t force Adi further. I sensed that he was feeling uncomfortable to say something to me.

“He is a gay Shraddha”, Adi blurted out. A few moments of silence passed.

“His parents are emotionally blackmailing him. All his friends are either married or engaged. He is trying to sort his life. But, people are just not letting him do so. I didn’t want to tell you because you know, it is something very personal to him. But then, I could not NOT tell you also”, he looked away.

“I just hope that he gets out of this mess soon”

“Me too”, Adi said.

A Walk to Remember Indeed!

S

he was busy re-arranging the books on the shelf. As she picked each book, they brought back the memories of the good times she had spent with those fictional characters. For some time, they were a part of her uneventful life. They had open-heartedly welcomed her to their world. They had never hesitated to share their worries, love, life, tears, laughter and happiness with her. Many a times, they had even startled her by sharing their deep secrets.

As the book “A Walk to Remember” by Nicholas Sparks caught her attention, she was amazed that it was not Noah and Laura who allured her. It was not their love and pain that moved her. Instead, it was the memories of that lunch that flickered within her.

On that sultry afternoon, she had carried “A Walk to Remember” book to the lunch. She had read it on the way to the restaurant where she met him. He had asked if she would share it with him. “I have not finished the book”, she had replied. Although she wanted to say, “I don’t lend my books”.

After the lunch, they had a long walk across the road, past the bustling vehicles and rattling people. Occasionally, they observed that some people were staring at them. But they deliberately ignored their glares and scuttled away.

It was more than half a decade now, she told herself. A sweet smile adorned her face as she thought about him. A loving stranger he was. A confusing lover he was. An angel he was. He still is, said a voice within and she blushed before accusing herself for always being grammatically incorrect while expressing emotions.

She closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of the book in her hands. Phantasmagoria of that luncheon and that long walk replayed in her mind.

A walk to remember indeed… she smiled.

A Pari

"Pari, shall we go to beach today”, asked my mama with a faint smile.

I was excited because I was seeing my mother smile after a long time. Since my dad disappeared, she has been in tears only.

“Mamma, I want to see papa”, I used to cry day and night. Every evening, I used to stand in front of our door awaiting his arrival. But, he never came.

“Did papa leave us because of Mili aunty?” I asked one day because my friend Tina had overheard her parent’s conversation and shared with me. Papa is a photographer and he had shown Mili aunty’s photographs to me. I have always liked her. She looks like movie star although she is only an aspiring model.

That night my mama didn’t eat or sleep. She cried until she fainted. I cried too; because I didn’t know what else to do. I hoped that my mother would wake up soon and give me food. But, she laid there. When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital. I was terrified and found mama sitting beside me. I felt better.

Since that incident, mama had stopped crying. Strangely, she stopped sending me to school too. I missed my school and Tina.

So, when mama asked if we can go to beach, I was excited.

We took an auto to the beach and walked along the sad. Mama let me make sand castles. I had just learnt the spelling of mama and papa’s name. I wrote them on sand. But, the waves took them with it.

“Come Pari, let’s go to the waves and ask it to return those names”, said mama cheerfully. I was excited to step into the sea. I was not scared at all because mama was holding my hands.

She took me into the sea; farther and farther. I started feeling nauseous and clutched to my mama’s hands tighter. I started crying and begged mama to go back to the shore. But, she held me in her arms and continued to walk. I tried to look at her face; it was strangely serene. Water started getting into my ears, nose and mouth. I kept my eyes shut and clutched at my mama’s neck.

Slowly, it became difficult to breathe. Mama could not hold me anymore and I was floating in middle of sea. I was crying. But, those tears went unnoticed. I wished papa came and rescued us. I wished that it was a dream. I wanted to meet Tina and tell her that she is my best friend. I wanted to see my papa and ask why he didn’t come to see me for so many days. I wanted to grow up and become a model so that papa would shoot my photos. I wanted to breathe, but it stopped.

And I Followed My Dreams...

“

Your performance rating is 4”, declared the manager. For the second consecutive year, I was rated with a four – inconsistent performer. I desperately fought to hold back my tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of my manager. My peers had been promoted last year and I was still in the same designation. An enviable Chartered Account degree was my professional identity. Family was proud and friends were happy. Some were even jealous. But in office, I was seen as an under performer. I was an under achiever who lacks focus and purpose.

“You lack determination and confidence. Sometimes you get so lost in thoughts that you forget the reality. You don’t try to give your best and you look lost. Don’t take me wrong. These are not my feedback. This is was your colleagues had shared about you. You have to understand that auditing is a dynamic field. Qualification is a pre-requisite to enter the league. But, after that it is your skill and performance. I am not saying that you lack knowledge or skillset. But, you certainly lack focus and consistency. Most of the times, you are in your own world. Tell me, don’t you want to climb up the ladder? Make money? Settle down? I am concerned about you. I recruited you and I don’t want you to be tagged as an underperformer and be thrown out. I want to know what your problem is. Speak up”, my manager insisted.

I continued to stare at him. I always wanted to be a Chartered Accountant. I cleared all the exams on my first attempt. Simultaneously I also obtained the certification on information and systems audit. I have always been appreciated for my depth of knowledge.

“I have given you a two rating in the year you joined. For a fresher to get such a good rating is a rarity and we all had so much faith in you”, my manager continued. He was trying to make me speak. Two rating is given to those who exceeds expecations. I exceeded expectations in the first two years. In the third, I got three – meets expectations and now for the last two years my rating is four.

I was unhappy. I didn’t want to do what I was doing. I felt incomplete. I wanted to tell my manager that I don’t care if a company has supporting voucher for every penny spent… if all the sales is supported by a purchase order… statutory dues are paid on time… direct balance confirmation is obtained from bank or not… I didn’t care. Nothing mattered. I didn’t care. I wanted to tell him that I hated my job.

“Sir, I am quitting”, I said with a strange determination.

“No, you can’t accept failure and quit. You have to face it, take life as a challenge, risks and evolve”, my manager tried to reason.

“Exactly sir. I don’t want to quit my desire to become a writer or accept my failure take risks in life. I want to write sir. I am unhappy here. My unhappiness is so contagious that it is making you, my family and friends equally unhappy”, I said.

“I my old boy after three years. I am sure that you mean what you say. All the best! But, remember that you have to formally send your resignation letter and serve 60 days’ notice period”, my manager said.

I smiled in response. Life looked greener and better. After three years, I finally took that one step which had been due for a long time!

Their Smile...

“Amma, I am not coming home this weekend”, I told my mother over the call.

“But why?” my father’s question came quicker than expected.

“Because my tickets are not confirmed”, I said.

“Dear, you said you have tickets. I thought you would come tomorrow. Amma was all set to make your favorite vegetable pulav and I was planning to buy rasagulla for you”, my father said sounding dejected.

“Appa, I still have tickets. But, it is still in Waiting List. I had booked 60 days in advance and what else can I do? Tell me”, I said.

“Okay”, my father’s replied.

“Amma, what is this? If ticket is not confirmed, what will I do? I know that you were excited that I am coming home. But, this is not under my control”, I went on blabbering for the next ten minutes.

I was equally excited to go home. Work had been crazily hectic and I could not go home for the past two consecutive months. I had been cancelling my confirm tickets and now, when I desperately want to go home, my ticket is not getting confirmed. Even my vacation was planned and leave was approved.

“Bye amma. Appa”, I said and disconnected. If my mother kills me with her silence my dad does the same with words.

I cursed my job, manager, myself and the entire universe for conspiring against my wish – a simple wish to go home. Images of my mother cutting beans and carrot for the pulav, father dusting the house and ensuring that it looks perfect and their smile when they open the door when they receive me made my heart cry. Tears welled and I felt empty. I also thought about the suitcase which is stuffed with some souvenirs picked from my business travel to Europe. I had also bought a sari for my mother, her birthday was only a month away! And, the following week, I was travelling to Singapore to attend business meetings. And sadly, there was no airport to my hometown.

I had taken permission from my manager to leave early because I had to catch the train. My house is as less twelve hours away and still I was finding it difficult to meet them.  “A mere twelve hours”, repeated a voice in the back of my head.

I left my office as planned, collected my baggage and left to the station. I bought a general ticket and squeezed into the crowd. My Tommy Hilfiger suitcase looked a little out of place and my Fossil watch looked flashy. But, I didn’t mind. I smiled at my co-passengers and managed to get a seat near the window.

I closed my eyes and soon several childhood memories started to envelop around me. My back became stiff and legs started aching. “Soon you will be home”, I constantly reminded myself and continued to day-dream until I dozed off.

As I reached home in the morning, my father and mother came rushing towards me. They didn’t know that I was coming, so their eyes reflected both surprise and shock. They hugged me tight. Soon, my back ache and sore legs vanished. We all walked into house hand in hand.

“Didn’t I tell you that our molu was telling lies. She was trying to surprise us”, my father said.

My mother happily announced that rasagulla will be served with breakfast along with my favorite puttu and kadala. I felt glad that I took the train and decided to go through the struggle. Else, I would have shattered my parents hope and optimism.

A Healthier Me!

“

Swapna, you look so think and weak. What happened beti”, Gupta aunty asked me. Her voice conveyed genuine concern and her eyes were focused on me.

Gupta aunty is our neighbor. She has a son and a daughter. Aunty looks at least a decade younger to her real age. I noticed that she looked healthier and was gleaming. I have always admired her charm and her food! As a child, I always used to run to aunty’s house for her unique snacks. Her passion for food was a major reason behind my interest in cooking.

My studies had kept me away from home for over half a year. I was back home for my semester leave. And, the first comment I received from everyone was that I have become thinner.

“No aunty, the food is terrible in our hostel. I hate it. Due to restrictions, we can’t go out often either. Tell me how long can I survive with Maggie and bread?” I told her.

“Arey beti, this is the same story everywhere. Remember that this is only a beginning. After studies, you may have to go out for work and who knows, you may have to travel across the globe also. If you wither so early, how will you stay healthy and face life?” asked aunty as a matter of fact.

“Aunty, everyone has only this to say. Do you think I am not worried? After all, it is my health right? I feel tired and sleepy all the time. Do you know that? I am unable to concentrate for long hours and even my hair has started falling due to lack of nutrition”, I complained like a pre-nursery child.

She smiled to me and tenderly ran her hands across my short hair. I had cut it so short recently that it barely touches my shoulders. Earlier, I had waist-length hair which I used to cherish.

“Chalo, I have a solution!” she smiled widely and took me inside her kitchen.

“Ye le, Kelloggs cornflakes. Take this for breakfast every day. You will soon become our old bubbles”, she said and patted on my shoulders.

“Uff aunty, who will eat same corn flakes every day?” I sighed.  It would be more plain and boring than my hostel food, I thought.

“Beti, don’t forget that breakfast is the most important meal for anyone. If you start your day with a good breakfast, your entire day will be good”, aunty said.

“Yeah-yeah. Breakfast like a king, lunch like a minister and dinner like a beggar is the old saying”, I reiterated although not sounding very convinced.

Gupta aunty read my mind and handed over a spiral-bound book. I flipped through them and found interesting recipes made from the cornflakes. They looked yum and knowing Gupta aunty’s culinary skills, I didn’t have a doubt about it.

Presenting to you my favorite ones from the book!

PS: This post is written as a part of Kelloggindia. For more recipes visit here

It's the Same!

S

olitude is blissful when it is consciously chosen. It becomes a way of life and brings happiness. The joy of getting lost in thoughts… observing nature and people around us… watching the birds fly… dogs yawn… leaf’s dance to the tune of breeze… river tirelessly running to merge with the grand ocean… giggles of teenage girls and style of teenage boys.. Innocent smile of babies and cute smile of old ones and so on becomes admirable. It makes us feel good and life looks perfect in spite of the imperfections.

However, when loneliness is forced into us, it becomes torturous. Life would look like a vicious cycle of wakeup-eat-work-eat-sleep! We feel bored and monotony starts to affect us like a slow poison. Everything around us looks irritating. We begin to complain about everything – the rain, sunshine, nights, crowds, silence and so one.

As I look back, I can doubtlessly say that I have experienced both – solitude and loneliness. I have enjoyed being with myself and also hated it. I have yearned for a company and at the same time, celebrated the moments shared with myself.

But, like many others, I also didn’t realize what was happening. I was happy with myself – proud rather. New job, handsome salary, city life and what not! Life looked perfect. I packed my bags with excitement and hopped into the train day dreaming. I was excited about meeting new people, making new friends, exploring new places, and most importantly, live independently.

The first few months offered everything that I had ever dreamt of. Shopping till my legs gave up… walking till hunger strikes… exploring till there is no unknown corner in the city and celebrating life as if there is no tomorrow. I was happy and my happiness made my parents happy. Friends thought I have changed and I thought they have changed.

But only until the honeymoon period got over. They say that good things don’t last long. And I say so is happiness, needs and satisfaction! What makes us happy today may not make us happy tomorrow. Needs differ from time to time and satisfaction is highly subjective.

What looked like solitude became loneliness and I started feeling tired of my life. Imperfections looked magnified and happiness seemed to have ran away. I felt like giving up everything and hide.

I shared these thoughts with my parents. They told me that all I need is break.

So I took a few day’s leave. I came back home. Stayed with my parents. Spent time in my study. I skimmed through old journals, wore old clothes, ate food cooked by mother and went for evening stroll with father.

My friends were excited that I have come back home after a long time. They threw a surprise party for me and played my favorite songs. We gossiped, updated our lives and giggled like school girls. We had fun!

As my vacation ended, I packed my bags back to work. But I wasn’t feeling aloof anymore. I realized that everything remains the same. Insecurity, monotony and loneliness ran away through the backdoor as I stepped out of my home for second innings!

PS: This is written as part of Together (We are together in this journey)

Happy Baby!!!

A

t 25, her life looked perfect. Engineering degree from a top notch college, handful of salary, caring husband, and now, a baby! Tara thanked God for showering with so much happiness.

Motherhood is a sweet challenge. She was willing to take it up and win it by providing never ending love. Tara tracked progress of her baby and ensured that all the needs of the baby was taken care of.

On 11^th day, naming ceremony was celebrated. Deciding the name for the baby was really challenging. If she liked something, her husband, Adi, liked something else. Her parents, in-laws, friends and neighbors suggested some name or the other – confusing her!

After lots of discussions, arguments, debates and what not, they decided a name for their angel – Hemanika. It sounded very sweet and tender.

Slowly, days passed. Hemanika started recognizing people and eventually, started crawling. Her smile always used to melt Tara’s heart.

Every evening, Tara started taking the baby to a park nearby. The greenery around and the serenity it gave was indescribable.

As days passed, the initial happiness that Tara used to feel was replaced by worry. Hemanika used to start wailing and used to become inconsolable whenever she was taken outside or someone visited home. At home, in the presence of Tara, she was an angel.

Family and friends expressed their concern.

“I think she has mood swings already”, Adi teased playfully.

“This is the problem with nuclear family. Children are not used to anyone else apart from their parents. And they are always within the constraints of four walls. That’s why they become paranoid when they go to a new place or meet new people”, said an old lady who was also their neighbor.

Every day, the old lady used to repeat the same thing again and again and Tara started growing anxious. She knew how well-behaved Hemanika was. She is also a very active baby who enjoyed playing. But, nobody believed that. Tara feared if she was missing to see what others were able to see.

Finally, she consulted the doctor. The doctor examined the baby. She asked Tara to explain the problem.

“Baby is very active and cheerful when she is with me or Adi at home. But, when we take her outside or when people come to visit us, she becomes moody after sometime. She starts crying and stops only when I take her to my room, change her clothes and let her be”, explained Tara.

“Do you use diaper when she is at home… with Adi or you?” asked the doctor.

“No. Only when we go out or someone comes”, said Tara.

“I see. I think that the baby is not very comfortable with the diaper you use. Most diapers only focus on being leak proof and therefore, ensure dryness only on the outside. But, the new Pampers Baby Dry Pants promises dryness for your baby on the inside. Its Magic Gel locks in moisture so that your baby’s skin remains dry and healthy for up to 12 hours. And a dry baby is a happy baby. So, why don’t you try it?” suggested the doctor.

Tara tried it and saw instant results.

“Time to throw a party!” said Tara laughingly to Adi.

PS: This post is written as a part of IndiBlogger HappyHours – Dry Baby, Happy Baby