THE BUS STOP

I wake up to a mess. My apartment is a mess. I am a whole new definition of mess. I look around and then at myself in the mirror. Hi I am Avanish and I am in last night’s clothes. Yes! I remember. I was out with friends last night. Christmas party it was… and what a party. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and returned home around 2am. Neither did I have the strength nor am I a neat freak, so I collapsed on the bed as such. I hadn’t cleaned my apartment the day before thinking that I will have ample time on Sunday, and then Sunday was spent in merry making and I cou…. Wait a minute! If yesterday was Sunday, today is definitely MONDAY!!! Bloody Monday! Ohhh shit! I take a look at my clock, it’s already 8 and I am supposed to be at work by 9.

I calculated in my mind as I bushed and showered at the same time. It takes me 40 minutes to reach my office at Goregaon from Bandra. I can make it, provided I catch my regular bus at 8:10am. So I start getting ready at hyper speed. Provided a frame to watch me get ready, it would most definitely seem like some cartoon movie where the characters can be ready in a matter of milliseconds. But I am no slacker; it took me exactly 5minutes and 35seconds to get ready. Yeah, you can question my breath, but it’s not like some chick will kiss me in the lift… so I can put some gum into my mouth later. And God bless the guy who invented deo spray.

I run out of my apartment when my house owner catches me. Hey! I pay my rent, alright! She is old and likes to chat, but I am really really late today. By the time I reach my bus stop, I take a look at my watch, it’s still 2minute to 8:10. I take a breath. When the bus doesn’t come after 2 minutes, I panic. Perhaps it’s late, and that meant I might reach office in nick of time or I might be late. I brace myself for the worst. And I see standing near me is a couple with two kids.

The man is tall, muscular and tanned. His wife, equally tall and slim and is draped in a cotton sari. Their two kids, one is probably 6(boy) another 3 or 2(girl) years of age. By their looks, one can say that the parents are probably laborers or some sort of working class. The woman is holding the younger kid while the elder one is playing while his father keeps an eye on him.

It reminds me of my childhood, where I and my sister used to play in our lawn while mom kept an eye on us. I haven’t talked to mom in a while. Sigh! But I am busy. Anyway, I lose my train of thoughts when I see my bus approaching. When people start boarding the bus, the elder kid starts to cry, saying that he wants to go in that bus, while his father holds him back. I wait for them to board, I mean, I heard them say that they are too going in same direction as me, but they don’t. Even though I am getting late, but I skip the bus. The kid’s tears hold me back. Something tells me that I should wait and see what happens.

After the bus leaves, the parents try to console the child, but he is adamant. He has to go in a bus like the one left just now. And his tears do not stop. The parents look at one another and try to console the child again; they tell him about a monster that resides in buses like that and various other things to scare him. But the boy says innocently, “Baba, I want to go in the bus with closed windows this time”

And then I realize. He is talking about the air conditioned bus. Another bus arrives in 10 minutes. I board it first this time, unsure whether they are coming or not. And I take a seat at the back. Just as the bus is about to leave, the family boards it. I wish I had words to explain the excitement on the boy’s face. His face shines, the tears he had shed have dried and the most beautiful smile touches his face. He looks around as if he has entered a parallel universe. I keep looking at him and I am amazed at how little things can bring so much happiness when one is a kid.

When the conductor comes to collect tickets, the man asks how much he should pay. “240 bucks, 60 each.” the conductor replies.

“Sir, isn’t there half ticket for children?”

“This is not a local bus!”

At that moment it strikes me as why they hadn’t boarded the last bus. Money! The man must be earning around 250-300 bucks a day. He can’t spend all of that on a bus journey! I thought I will pay for them. But then I stop myself. I do not want to insult him by paying for him. Every man has self respect. I wait to see what happens.

The man says to his son, “beta! You have had your ride. Let’s get down now.”

“But baba, I want to go all the way”

The husband and wife discuss for a bit and then the man says to his wife, “what do we do?”

The woman keeps her hand on his and says, “I and choti will get down on the next stop and take the local bus. You stay with our son and we will meet you at our stop. If you reach first, wait near the tea stall. If I reach first, I will be waiting there”

And the mother and her daughter get down at the next stop, while the man pays for himself and his son and take a seat near me. His son sits on his lap and flashes a broad smile at me and then gets busy in looking at every other face happily.

My stop arrives in 20minutes and I leave the bus with two important lessons. First, I learn the value of money. For every man who wastes thousands on useless things, there is a man who cannot afford a bus ride for his family. And the second, that every parents give all they have to keep their child happy. They do anything and everything they can.

I take out my phone, and call mom. Office can wait.

Dear Juliet

“God! I am bloody tired of it and I can’t do it again” I said as I stomped into my room. My grandmother looked up from her book and then resumed reading. That was her way of saying, “pour it out, I am listening”. So I went on, “I have spent an entire week on writing this story, and now my prof says, it isn’t good enough, u got to add some spice” I said with a poor mimicry of him.

Gran let me whine for some more time before she put down her book, took off her glasses and said, “Aditi, that’s what happens when you major in English. You have to do better than others. And your professor is a very nice man. Excellent at pointing out ones mistakes in matter of minutes. You had a medal for him when he was all praises for you; don’t blame him now if he wants you to be the best”.

I raised my eyebrows, “since when you signed a pact with the Nazis?”

“They bribed me with cookies” she said with a wink.

“But you are diabetic!”

“All the more reasons to go for the cookies”

“You’re wicked!”

And then we burst out laughing. Gran was the coolest person in the world. Heck! She was funkier than most chicks my age. She always knows a solution to everything. I was the luckiest granddaughter in the universe and god sent her to me as permanent blessings to all my woes. The day she and grandpa came to live with us, ahh! Bless that day.  Grandpa was the total opposite of my gran. He was sophisticated and serious while gran was just a teenager in an aged body. She never looked old. She had that timeless beauty about her. She looked like royalty. Now, coming back to the present scenario,

“So what had you written about?” asked Gran.

“I wrote a love story about a Dear John letter( a letter written by a woman to her beloved in the army who was posted at war saying that she was moving on with her life)… with a happy ending”

“Oh! Writers have a hard time digesting successful love stories. But do you also know apart from Dear John letters, there is another kind of interesting letter too. It’s called “letters to Juliet”

“Really? What are they about?”

“There is a community of women who call themselves “secretaries to Juliet. Women from all over the world write letters to Juliet saying about how they lost their beloved to the situations and seeking advice”

“Wow! That’s interesting”

“But you know you can always talk to sheetal about writing ideas”

Sheetal Gran was my Grany’s so called best friend. She was the only thing I didn’t like about Gran. Sheetal Gran always had some sort of authority over Gran and one could see it. I hated it.

“Please…. I may not be a writer but I am definitely not seeking help from your author friend”

“Honey! Saying those things doesn’t become you. And you don’t know what she has done for me”

“You know what, enlighten me! Today I have all the time in the world”

“If you insist… but before that I need to tell you something. Don’t judge me. Just listen”

I mocked zipping my lip and throwing the invisible key. Also I crossed my heart.

“It all began in the summer when I had just turned 19…” she paused and looked at me, “you are looking at me like I could never have been 19”

“No... I was just imagining what a bombshell you would be back then. I mean you’re still one now”

“Silly girl, anyway, that summer I and sheetal both had turned 19 and we wanted to announce to the world that we belonged to the “ladies” category now. We could taste freedom in the air”

“That was also the summer when I had my first love.”

“Whoa! This is a love story?”

“You know I can’t continue if you keep interrupting me. And what did you expected it to be? She saving me from a fire? Sometimes I wonder if you’re actually my granddaughter. Now keep quiet and listen. You are killing my buzz”

I showed my teeth but decided to keep shut.

She continued, “I fell in love when I saw him in the army hospital for the first time. My dad was in the army so, we could avail the benefits of the army hospital. That man looked like a superhero in his uniform. His height, his short cropped hair, his arrogance and his care. It all took my breath away. He was a fresh recruit, but his actions promised an ambitious career. He didn’t even notice me standing there. It was a little insulting as well as challenging at the same time. You know what I am talking about.”

“The second time I visited the hospital to get my reports, he was there but this time he talked to me. If I said his appearance blew me away, then I must say his personality knocked me dead. He was a gentleman and very very well behaved unlike most guys his age.”

“The third time we met was at a party. And that was the first day he gave me a compliment. After that day, we met frequently. I thought it was coincidence which I later found out was a conspiracy by Sheetal. She was my best friend. I told her everything. And bless her, I was asked on a date by him after few “accidental meetings”. Before I knew, we were in love. And he admitted to it, after I told him that I loved him”

“You told him???? He didn’t say it first?” I asked Gran with wide eyes.

“What are we? Living in 10^th century? And you promised to keep shut.”

“Okay… but still…” from the look of her face I could tell she was waiting on me to shut my mouth. When I did, she continued,

“The love that has passionate beginnings has ardent endings. The motion of events started when he was transferred to a site of war. I remember the last day we met before he left. He held my hand and promised me that he will come back, for me. I was his life. And then he asked a promise in return. He asked me if I would write to him”

“And what did you say?” I asked… as I couldn’t stop myself.

“I told him, “Everyday till you comes back to me””

“Wow! Your life was like a movie” I exclaimed.

“You have no idea!” she winked and continued, “So I wrote a letter to him every day. And gave it to Sheetal to post. I had also asked him to write to me at sheetal’s address. You see, my mom was very strict. Through his letters I came to know what war actually was. It sounded as if everyone wanted it to end but couldn’t. Wars can break the toughest of men, like him. He often talked of coming back, that it was too much blood, but only of the army but also civilians. I gave him what little consolations I could.”

“He couldn’t write frequently, but when any of his letters reached me, I would read it till it got crumpled. Sheetal always warned me that I was playing with fire. She knew we loved each other, but she also knew that my mom would kill me if she ever found out”

“So… I guess she found out?” I asked hoping to be proven wrong.

“Yes she did.” Gran said with a smile. “It had been past two years since he was posted outside. And mom caught me red handed when I was reading his letter that I had received after a long duration of two months. It was a 12 page letter.”

“That man could write! I tell you he is the one” I told her and then I suddenly realized what I had just said. She hadn’t married that man. She married Grandpa.

“When my mom found out, she took the matter straight to my dad. I knew it was over then. After two days, my dad called me and told me, ‘I hadn’t expected this from you. You are to stop it. Starting right now. Forget him’. That wasn’t a conversation. It was a command. And I knew I had to obey.”

“When I told this to sheetal, she asked me one thing, ‘do I love him that much that I can risk everything?’ and then I told her that I planned to spend my life with him. But she knew I had an order to follow.”

“I didn’t write any more letters to him for six months. He wrote four. Sheetal wouldn’t let me read those. In those six months, I tried to write my “letter to Juliet”. I wanted suggestion from someone who didn’t know me and I wanted to confess about the sin I was going to commit. And one fine day, sheetal came up and asked me to write my own ‘Dear John letter’.”

“And then she sent it… and you call this saving your life? She ruined your chance of marrying the one you loved.” I was so furious that I was trembling. I was right. She controlled her life… then and now.

“Honey, you haven’t heard the best part of the story yet… I told you not to judge”

“Yeah and the best part includes you marrying grandpa and then falling in love with your husband? No offence but you would be a lot happier if you didn’t listen to her then.”

“Yes. She posted those, but to the same person. And that person ended up being your grandpa.”

“WHAT!!!”

“Told you! You would be surprised. He realized what was going on and immediately came back. We eloped and married.” She said with a triumph smile.

“How could he come just like that? Moreover grandpa is a doctor.”

“Silly baby, he resigned, and they do have doctors in the army”

“You know I thought you were wicked, but now I know what wicked is, Sheetal gran.”

“Am I listening you praising me?” Sheetal gran entered the room.

“Yeah” I said.

“Well I had to save Snow White from the clutches of her Stepmother”

I looked at Gran, “YOU had a STEPMOTHER? You got to tell me that story too”

And we all laughed.

ONE SIDED LOVE

When two wounded people meet, something draws them towards each other. I do not say this on basis of any scientific studies or some notion of my own, but I feel that it’s human nature. The hurt in one person is sometimes mirrored by another. In the pain of others at times we see our own. When that happens it feels as if two pieces of puzzle clicked. Or that was perhaps what I had thought.

But is there anything better explained by words than experiences? Nope. Never. It so happened that I was neck deep in making my assignment to be submitted the next day. Yeah! Yeah! I get it. I am not compliant, nor do I boast to be. Or you can say people like me are like rockets. We don’t propel forward unless our ass is on fire. Like it’s said, “jheel mein toh sab nao chalate hain… par samandar ki toofaano mein chalane ka mazaa hi kuch aur hai. Oho… see what I was saying and now what I am saying. Now I won’t divert from my story. Han so where was I?

Ah yes! I, Sonali Mehra was almost drowning when I changed the tab of my net browser from the boring research paper I was reading to the savior of boredom “facebook”. As I scrolled down the newsfeed, occasionally liking and commenting on pics, I came upon an update “finally employed”. It was from Chandan Ray, my schoolmate. Though we were batch mates in school, yet we had never talked. Come on! I am not an introvert. My batch had some 400 odd students! Anyways, as common courtesy I liked the status. After a few days, he was online when I dropped a “congrats” message in the chat. I still don’t have any idea as to why I did that. Bless that day. He replied back and we ended up chatting from 9pm till 2 in the morning.

In the first chat itself I came to know about his break up that happened a year ago. In turn I told about my eventful break up 6 months ago.  Our chats continued on the next day and we exchanged numbers. Chatting on FB can be really boring sometimes I tell you, hence we switched to whatsapp. We would often chat until either of us fell asleep. It was during the chats about our pasts that brought us close.

Till I met him, I had no idea that guys can be so understanding (yes! you can almost see my eyes shining when I talk about him). One moment he would talk of philosophy and in the next will drop a pj making me laugh. He was decent, I will give him that. Not once did he try to flirt with me. We women are so anomalous, if guys flirt, we call them cheap, and when they don’t, we get apprehensive why they don’t (yes! We are complicated. To tell you a secret, we don’t know why we are so). But it so happens that the guys we want to flirt with us, turn out to be too courteous. He was a charmer. And I was so mesmerized by his aura that I had exited my empty universe and entered his orbit. Like a sun, his gravity kept me stable. I became not a star, but merely a moon, that shone through his light. I couldn’t wait for the day to end, so that I could chat with him. I would read and reread our chats. He started calling me “Sona”, saying Sonali was too long.  Life was all honey and roses.

Now, don’t put words in my mouth. I never said the “L” word. No, but I definitely liked him, much more than a friend should like a friend. And I cared not what it was. As long as we kept talking each day, I was fine with this “no classification” rapport I would ogle at his pics for hours.  He was handsome, yes and very. But it was not what kept popping in my mind. The thing that almost knocked me out of breath every time I saw his pics was his smile and his eyes. Those eyes could hold someone for all eternity and if looks could kill, I would have died a hundred deaths daily.

Whenever we spoke, I felt as if all the atoms of my body have gained a large amount of kinetic energy suddenly, and that their entropy was beyond limits. My heart would seem to beat faster and the butterflies would have Brownian movement all over my stomach… no calling them butterflies is perhaps an understatement, they were “angry birds”. These were the circumstances that made me bound to tell him that I liked him (no! not the L word you think). He denied me saying that he liked me a lot but didn’t want to hurt me and then lose me (He was scared (see! That’s what I meant. Too well-mannered). I got the clue pretty well. Our chats seemed to decline after that. Though I assured him that it wasn’t necessary that he felt the same way as I did. But somehow, he started avoiding me. I tried to reach out to him many times, but he just wouldn’t talk or text or call back.

At times I wondered, if he held his phone, seeing my name flash on the screen and not pick it up. I wanted to see inside his mind as to what he felt at that instant. Or that when he was reading my texts, almost begging him to talk to me (don’t take these words too literally. Or I could go to jail for threatening to murder).  I went through a series of emotions during that strange time, first it was concern, then hurt, followed by rejection, then anger and then hurt again. It was heartbreak all over again. It didn’t sound rational, but that’s what it was. He was on my mind… day in and day out. I would stare at his pictures. Anytime my phone buzzed, I heart would beat wildly expecting it to be from him, and every time I would taste the acid in my mouth out if disappointment.

One fine day I decided, it was enough. I couldn’t bear the hurt anymore, and it was time for me to let go. The more I tried to hold him to me; I realized I was only suffocating myself. I thought the hurt from rejection that had been building up in me, will explode someday and it wouldn’t be pleasant. Plus, turning to begging wasn’t something I was proud of.  So with the last shred of my tattered self esteem and dignity along with scattered pieces of my broken heart, I decided that I would abandon all attempts to contact him. My last text to him read,

‘You gave me warmth, when I was cold,

Filled me with life, when I felt old,

You and me, like sun and moon,

With your light I shone,

I knew in my heart, u will never be my man,

But I also know you are the one”

As I stand now three years later, in a mall, I see him inside a store, he looks up at me. I am confused. Should I run? Should I wave? He smiles, calls, “Sona!!”, And I melt. We talk for some time. Only formal talks. My heart still aches for him. My solar system lacks its sun and I have forgotten to shine. A million questions in my mind. But not a word to utter. I leave as soon as I could. And then cry my eyes out. There was something between us, or was that just me? Silly me… of course it was one sided. 

LETTER TO A COMMON MAN

Dear ordinary man,

I am someone who is very jealous of your life. How can you lead such a simple life while mine is so very complicated? How can you stay happy under every circumstance?  No offence to you but I am 29 now, single, working in a multinational company and earning a hefty salary. But my life is strictly according to a routine. Each day I have to get up at 7, do my work and rush for office before 9. I don’t even get the fortune of having breakfast each day. Even on the weekends, If work commands, I have to do them and my social life is a mess. The only glance I get of people outside my office is the time I get holidays and I go to my hometown or on some vacation. The leisure moments I get is limited to the occasional movie with my colleagues or some lunch or dinner with a bunch of friends.  Whenever I visit home, my family is so madly happy that this time we will do something different, but I never become an active participant in their plans. By the time I reach home, the only thing on my mind is food cooked by mom and sleep. I never get enough of both here. As it is I get only a week off to visit home, that too in every 6-8 months. On days when I return late from office, I don’t even get dinner. What hurts is I have money in my wallet yet I am so dead tired that I don’t dare go outside again and I live on Maggie. My house feels so empty. The work load in office is so much, I feel one day I will die of it. at the end of the day, I just feel hollow. Sometimes I just wish I had a simple life, that I live with my family, to have someone waiting for me at home, to serve me dinner and ask me how my day was, that I could leave all the worries of office there only. I wish I had you life, a simple common man’s life.

From,

A jealous guy.

Dear Mr. jealous,

I can understand your sentiments. Any guy like you would obviously feel jealous of my home, family and 9 to 5 job. Its like a dream come true to all of you. I find it incredibly ironic though. Let me tell you something, the small house that I live in, that your girlfriend finds incredibly cute, is really very tight and I only reason I live there is because I cant afford a bigger one. My kid that look so adorable to you is the reason I cant sleep at night. I stay awake thinking about my kid’s future because I don’t have enough saved for her. screw college, I fear I wont be able to afford a good school for her. yes, I have a 9-5 job. The only cause I have to come home early is that I have a hell lot of work there too. Every evening my family waits for me to come home, when I do, I see expectation on their faces and I know I can never fulfill them. My wife looks at the monthly budget before we plan a dinner outside. So while you sit in your comfy chair in an air conditioned cabin, I work like an ass in an office that is loaded with obnoxious smelling people threatening to complain to my officer if I don’t do their work first and I don’t even have a fan overhead. While you go on vacations and trips in the name of recreation, I plan throughout the year to visit my parents once or buy them something. So I end up cancelling my visit, instead send the money so that they can get something useful. While you brag about having so much but feeling lonely, I feel I will never have enough. That’s the side of a common man that you never see. Our lives aren’t simple, we have a lot more problems than you. The only reason you see us laughing is that we have so much burden on ourselves that we don’t get time to howl about getting happiness. All I know is that 20 years from now I will still be having the same life, will never have enough and will try to blame it all on god for cursing me to be a common man and you will be sitting in some bunglow enjoying tea with you wife and planning holidays. If I could trade this life for yours, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Regards,

The unlucky common man.

Dear pessimists,

While you both nag about each other I come nearer each day.

With love,

Death. 

HAPPY ENDING

I had been sitting at the same table for over three hours now. Already five cups of coffee poured down my throat. People near me were starting to notice and were looking at me like I was some sort of alien. Every now and then I would meet few pairs of curious eyes trying to guess my “story”. perhaps it had something to do with the fact that i was the only person sitting there who didn't have the company of  an individual of the same species but opposite gender. Even the waiter looked at me now and somehow I got the feeling as if I had grown two horns, or i had a tail that was lurking out. Finally the waiter asked as I ordered my 6^th cup, “mam are you expecting someone?”

I looked up from the card I was holding and flashed a smile at him, “no. but I assure you I am not a nut case.”

His return smile was apologetic. The piece of paper I had in hand had got me so anxious that I couldn’t sit in my office. I had been expecting it and had been worried that it was late… now that I finally had it, I was restless. The feeling can be compared to admitting to your crush for the first time that u have a crush on him!

Well that was a bad example, considering that I had done the very mistake not so long ago. I had been madly, irrevocably, irresistibly, hopelessly and helplessly in love with Adi for the last 3 years. Finally when I mustered the courage and told him, he had rejected me. I had spent days, weeks and months crying.

Yet here I was. Holding a letter to my happiness. Feeling happy that this time my crush wasn’t some guy. I am doing a job that pays my bills, but never fills my soul. This was what led me to peruse a crazy idea that gave birth to a thought, eventually a dream which is becoming real pretty soon.

I still remember the day when some friends were having dinner at my house and spoke highly of my cooking. Among those compliments, laughter and jokes I got a crazy idea to open a restaurant.

And here I am today, holding an invitation card to my restaurant’s inauguration. The first of its lot. Soon to be distributed. It brought a smile on my face and I thought that, may be a happy ending doesn’t include a guy, may be its me! Picking up the pieces and putting them together to make a better picture out of life. 

THE THORN BIRD

“There is a legend of a bird that sings only once in its life, more beautifully than any other creature on the face of earth. From the moment it leaves its nest, it searches for a thorn tree, and doesn’t rest until it has found one. Then singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out- carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain.... Or so says the legend”

-        - The Thorn Birds (by  Colleen McCullough)

Jeevika stood motionless as Ashish presented her the ring. A thousand different things crossed her mind, but she held on to the most important memory.

Jeevika was only 10 when she lost both her parents. When her paternal uncle and aunt adopted her and her younger brother, she had no idea what was happening. She had never been close to them or seen them. They had appeared out of the blue and started living in her house. The social worker who looked after her after her parent’s death and before they were adopted, had told her

“As your mother was an orphan, the only relatives you have are your paternal ones and among them your uncle and aunt only came forward to adopt you. They are going to stay here with you and take care of you and your brother. If you ever face any problems, contact me. I have some other important things to discuss with you, but right now you are too young for that”

And then she was gone. After only a week she realized that their new family had no regards for her and her brother. They had become strangers in their own home. It was not that they weren’t fed or sent to school, but the quality of their life had changed.

The thing that hurt her the most was that her uncle and aunt had stated using her parent’s things. Her aunt would flaunt her mother’s clothes, jewelry, use her perfume. A first she saw it differently. She felt as if she had seen her mother come back.  That time her brother, Anuj was just six. He ran and hugged her aunt, crying, “Momma… I have missed you. Where were you?”

And in the next moment, her aunt had pushed him away saying, “I am not your mother. Don’t do this next time or else I will slap you”

Jeevika hopes had vanished.  She pulled Anuj away from her aunt and took him to their room where they both had cried their eyes out. That very day she had decided that she will be her brother’s keeper and will see to it that nothing hurts him, ever again.

When she passed her 12^th board exams, she received a full scholarship to study at a medical school. From the scholarship money she got, she would send some of it to her brother. Since she was staying in hostel, she made sure that her bother faced no problems at the house; she had stopped calling it home from a very long time.

It was during her 1^st year at med school that she had met Ashish. They had become friends instantly and she had felt something else. No, it wasn’t love at first sight. It was respect. Ashish had been so compassionate towards her that she was just drawn to him. She felt as if he could always know the exact thing she was feeling. When he met Anuj, he behaved as if he had known him for ever.

When Anuj had told her that he liked him too, she had been sure that he was the one. They had become a couple soon after. That was the time she felt that nothing could go wrong again. He was loving, caring and protective. He was the first person who made her realize that she had turned too hard on herself and that she should be taken care of.

It was during this time that she turned 18 and was informed by the social worker that she was the legal heir to all the property. She had been ecstatic as she knew what she had to do.  

But after a few months she realized something was wrong with Ashish. He had turned cold all of a sudden. He was avoiding her. Soon she came to know that he was involved with another girl. When she confronted him, he told blatantly, “you and I are over”. She simply came back, holding back the tears that were about to spill.

She passed medical school, and decided to go abroad for further studies. This time she took Anuj with him. She had told her uncle and aunt that she was the legal heir and that she shouldn’t be taken for granted.

One day while she was going to university, she saw Ashish. He came to her and said,

“Hi Jeevika. I want to talk to you”

“I am sorry but I don’t think that is going to happen” she said and left.

Each day he would wait for her and she would ignore him. One day she got tired of all this and asked,

“What do you want?”

“I am really sorry. I had been a jerk. Every day I regret for leaving you. You are still the most important person of my life. I cannot live without you. I had been searching for you for almost two years. You shouldn’t have vanished. Now that I have found you, I m not letting you go, ever again.”  And then he presented the ring.

Jeevika was silent for a long time.

Finally she spoke, “Every person in this world has to make their own journey. Nobody shares the burden. But it feels nice to walk beside someone, to hold their hand.  But sometimes it’s better to walk alone rather than with someone who never wants to walk side by side and for whom we will always have to look back and wait to catch up”

“I have let go of all the feelings I had for you, not because I do not love you, but because I have realized that I deserve better. My life has a greater meaning than holding out for you. I have responsibilities and I have to make a good life for Anuj. Go. Have a happy life. I am not going to be a part of it”

She said and walked away. Her heart broke into a million pieces, but she had to do it. Even in pain, she felt a kind of bliss as if someone was smiling down on her from above. A smile touched her lips and two tears rolled down her cheeks.

  

ALONE PART 2

When sadness pulls me into its abyss,

When a tear caresses my cheek,

When I feel my insides tuning hollow,

I think of you,

Hoping to find some solace.

Each day I fall a little deeper,

The harder it gets to rise again,

I wait for you to give me your hand,

To hold me close, just as you promised

Then I remember that you are not a promise keeper.

I burn deep within,

The flames engulf me each day,

blazing something vital in me day in and day out

I scream for help, to stop the pain,

But no one has an ear to lend,

I wait for the day to be tuned into ashes,

So that I can rise from them again,

Just as a phoenix, waiting to breathe again.

FRIENDS???

Friends???

it was one of those moments where I wondered if time had actually stopped moving forward. And it was not so in a good sense. I felt like a kid of kindergarten who was waiting the last bell to ring and the clock never seemed to move. Only difference was that I had nowhere to go. This happened a lot lately. I was sitting in front of my laptop staring at my Facebook page. You know that your life is dull when facebook seems like hell. In plain words, I was bored of the boredom.

My work was perfect, my life… not so perfect. It was way too simple…like some abandoned house, something was missing and I could never put my finger on it. I was staring ideally at my mailbox when an unexpected mail caught my eye. The name seemed familiar, but I could hardly believe it. I opened anxious…

Hey Ishita,

It’s been a long time but can we meet someday? I am in your city, permanently. Missed you a lot.

Love,

 Rishi

It was short and I could hear the strain it must have caused him to write those few words. I could picture his hesitance. Rishi, my once best friend…I sighed.

It had been almost three years since we talked after our grand fight. It’s really been that long? I wondered. I deliberated for a moment as to what I should reply. It won’t harm…my heart said. But my brain seemed glued to “don’t you dare”. I was perplexed. So I didn’t reply that day. The next day I got another one from him.

Hi…I suppose you haven’t forgiven me. It’s ok. It was a long shot anyway. I hope we could meet. I am so very sorry for that day. I really am.

And then it was over. I replied

Hi…I guess you have nothing to apologize for. It was my fault. Let’s meet this Saturday. Our place.

And I waited. His reply was positive of course and we met after 2days. Banjaraa was a small café that had been our place since school. Rishi and I have been classmates since sixth grade and best friends since seventh. The café had changed. It was renovated and had some funk to it. A lot changed in 3years.

At first I looked at him. He was different. It was startling to see him in formal attire. I was so used to his jeans tee look. He was slim but muscular, the roundness about his face gone, a light beard and something else…he looked professional. I was in salwaar kameez. He looked like some model and I…well like a salesgirl. He smiled at me… a smile of recognition. I replied the same.

“I liked the old place. It seems alien” he said after sometime.

“Me too.” I mumbled.

He looked at me for a long time and the silence was stretching, making us uncomfortable. So I asked about his work. He answered formally. Then he asked about mine, I answered formally too. It seemed like each question I asked was mirrored back to me, like some doll who talked whatever you talk to him.

An hour passed and I ran out of questions. We sat there staring at each other. And then he said,

“Ishita are you still upset with me?”

He never ever called me Ishita, just Ishi for him and he took my name for the first time.

“No Rishi I am not. It’s good to see you” I always called him Rish, never Rishi. He looked agonized to hear that name… some best friend we were.

“How is Sneha?” I asked not looking up from my coffee. Sneha…the root cause of all evil. The very reason we fought.

“We broke up. It’s been two years” he said calmly. My head jerked up.

“What?” I said. “Yes. We are not together anymore” he said.

I had predicted that she was a bitch, I even called her that, she blamed that I said so because I was jealous of her that I could never have Rishi for myself, I had shouted at her, at which Rishi raised his hand to slap me and I swore never to see his face again. That was our last conversation. At his words I should have felt victorious that I was right, yet I somehow felt hurt. I realized it then…

“Did you say two years ago?” he nodded so I continued “then why were you not talking to me? It’s been three years!” I could feel blood rushing to my cheeks. I was angry.

He didn’t look up as he answered, “I felt ashamed, ashamed that I hurt you…so very much. I thought you would never want to see my face again”

I was so angry and then I started laughing. It took me a moment to stop…all the while he looked at me as if I was crazy. And then I said… “An idiot you will always be. Look at the royal mess we made Rish”

He was still confused, but his smile, genuine one was back. I continued “you thought I didn’t want to see you. I thought you hated me”.

He got up… reached across the table and hugged me, “it’s so good to see you Ishi” and we laughed. After that it was easy. We talked, teased and laughed. While walking out I swore I would kill him if he dressed like that again. He warned me the same.

When I returned home, my face was all bright and shiny. No facial treatment could do that except happiness. We made plans to meet again and again. This time more informally. Time never seemed to be enough. We had endless topics to talk about. My life was live now. I was happy all the time.

We started going out like we used to. All traces of sadness, pain all but gone. At some point I would accept to myself that I needed him, like a drug. He was my happy drug. And before I realized, it happened.

While we were returning from a movie, it rained like cats and dogs. So we took shelter under a closed shop. I didn’t exactly know what started it, whether it was me trembling due to the rain or the close proximity between us due to lack of space or the romantic movie we watched that had a scene like this the thundering and lightening, he put his hand under my chin, one hand holding my face and carefully placed his lips on mine. It might have been hours for all I knew when I realized what we were doing. Till then I had been too dazed. I abruptly moved away from him and walked into the rain. He caught my hand…

“What happened Ishi?”

I turned. Fury on my mind, “what happened? You just kissed me! That’s what happened”

“But I love you… so much. I have for a long time now. Am I too late to say my feelings out loud? Do you like someone else?” there was agony in his voice but my fury didn’t even see that.

“Just because that bitch left you, doesn’t mean you have a chance with me. And you don’t love me, you never have. You just need someone to make you feel good about yourself. I can’t be that anymore” I spitted out and left feeling the acid on my tongue from my own words.

On reaching home I cried. I have loved him… for what seemed like forever. But to be a replacement? That’s something I could never accept. He would always expect me to be like her! I wasn’t her and I wasn’t the one he really loved.

Days, weeks passed and my life returned o normal as was before him. He tried calling, texting, even pounded at my door, but I remained silent and after a few weeks, he gave up when I texted “if you ever cared about me, then leave me alone, I beg you” that was that.

But I missed him, more than I could imagine. One day while I was looking at some clothes at a store, I saw Sneha. She did recognize me and came to me.

“Hi Ishita. How is Rishi?”

I was shocked at the question. “Err hi. Why are you asking me about him?”

“Shouldn’t I? You both are together for almost two years now. Right?”

She looked at my confused face. I said, “No. we were never together. We met a few months ago (six months, two weeks and four days my mind calculated). I don’t think he meant me when he talked about relationship”

“You must be kidding! He absolutely loves you”

“And how did you end up to that conclusion?” I asked sarcasm clear in my voice.

“Because that’s what he said. After you…well left, he kept talking about you…so much so that he completely forgot I existed. After a few months I decided it was time. I couldn’t be with a person who loved another one with so much devotion. When I confronted him, he agreed with me. Thus we made a clean mutual break up. In fact I got engaged last year. My wedding is in next month. You must come and bring Romeo with you.” She said with a wink.

I could hardly believe my ears. All this time I had been so wrong about him. He actually loved me. This news sent current of ecstasy through my veins. He loved me as much I did to him. I almost hugged Sneha, congratulated her and fled.

I made a stop at my place to pick a few things and rushed to Banjaraa. On my way, I called him, “Rish meet me at Banjaraa now. No questions please.”

My urgency must have caught him off guard. We talked after a month. But the call worked and he reached just minutes after I did. I couldn’t believe, but it actually rained that day. We both were wet and when he entered, I played my guitar (one year of guitar lessons and 5000 bucks on the guitar paid off) to his favorite romantic song. When I was finished, I walked to him and hugged him. He was still confused. And then in front of probably 30 people, I said “I love you Rish, I always have, I always will and you will always remain an idiot” and then I kissed him.

From his expression I saw he wanted explanation, but the moment our lips met, we both agreed that the explanation should come later. He took me in his arms, raising me from the ground and said “I love you Ishi, always and forever”

JOURNEY

Journey

I was recently appointed on a new project that demanded me to travel 40 Kms from my house every day. Since the distance wasn’t that huge, I decided to do up down. It was the month of May and it seemed as if the city was situated in the heart of the sun. It was so damn hot that one could feel the sun draining away all the fluids from the body. As if to compliment the heat, it was very very humid. Any clothes you wear would stick to your body and amplify the effect of the heat.

Though I loved my job, yet I hated the heat. My workplace was completely air conditioned, so was my flat (that’s another reason to come home daily. I could sleep peacefully) the only time I could feel the wrath of the sun was during the journey from home to office and vice versa. The most convenient method of transport for me was the bus and it was always crowded. The time of the day doesn’t matter, buses would always be packed. It often made me wonder where all these people come from. There would be a bus every 5minues and all of them equally packed.

Every day the journey would be the same. I come out of my house happy and clean and by the time I reach my workplace, I am drenched in my sweat as well as the passenger sitting beside me. But one day, the one hour journey to my office became worth it.

By the way, I am Arun and this is the point where an unexpected twist happened in my monotonous life. It was Monday. That day I was unfortunate firstly because I didn’t get a seat and secondly because I was already late, so I was standing and praying when the journey will be over. Just two stoppages away from mine, a girl boarded the bus. The moment I looked at her, she looked at me and I could hear the clicking of some puzzle of nature.

She was beautiful, too beautiful. Her eyes like the ocean, her hair like the darkest clouds, and her smile like blossoming flower and I became a poet. It was after a moment I realized that I had been staring her the whole time and staring at a girl was still in the bad manners list. She looked as though she was not affected by the sun like the models in sunscreen ads. She stood beside me…

After that day, every day I took the same bus, which meant every day I reached my office exactly 15mins late, but I didn’t mind that because every day I got to see her. Some days she would be in a good mood and would wear vibrant colored clothes, some days her mood would be off. Those days she preferred black and wouldn’t smile. She would regularly listen to music. On my lucky days she would sometimes smile at me. But that was that. I had noticed a whole lot of things about her. She had become my one good thing about the journey. On those days when I would miss the bus, I thought about her at the office.

One day I saw her aboard the bus with a guy, she kept talking to him the whole time and I was burning up. I noticed them coming together after that day, till the day she came alone. That day (Tuesday) she sat beside me, lucky for me, she had didn’t had change for the bus fare and I paid for her. We talked for the first time, for a whole hour!

“Thank you. I am Priya” she said with a smile.

“Hi. Arun here”

Then I came to know that she on training for her new job and that it was going to be over this week. Also I came to know that the guy wasn’t her boyfriend but a friend (phew!). On hearing the first news I was sad, but extremely happy for the 2^nd one.

  That day I kept thinking that after this week I would probably never see her again. It hurt. So I thought I would take a bold step and ask her number. The next day she didn’t come, the day after that I had to reach office early. So we arrived at her last day. Though I had to reach office early, I took my chances.

She sat beside me. “Hi Arun.”

“Hi.”

We talked for some time. I tried to ask her number a hundred times, but failed. Just a stoppage before mine, I said, “Priya I know this is highly inappropriate to tell you that too in a bus, but since it’s probably the last time we are meeting, but I would really like to see you again, this time not on a bus but some place nice. Would you please consider that and grant me one meeting? I really like you”

I said the whole thing in a go and waited for her, perhaps to slap me. But she didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at me. It was a long shot, I knew. Defeated I got down from the bus at my stoppage. I came near the window where she was seated for one last look. She didn’t look at me but started doing something. The bus was about to leave when she looked up and called me,

“Hey Arun… I never returned the money you paid for me that day” she said with a frown and shoved a Rs. 50 note in my hand through the window. I had no option but to take it, a memento from her. I chuckled. The bus left so did I.

When I took it out form my pocket, at office to keep it in my wallet, I saw something else except the smiling Gandhiji.

“You never told me where we would meet… text me the place”

Below that was a ten digit number followed by a smiley. 

SEASONS OF LOVE

Seasons of love

Looking at the flower garlands that adorned the walls of our hall, I remembered the fight I had with mom a few weeks ago.

“No! I don’t want to get married now” I yelled at mom. But she wasn’t someone who would give up easily.

She yelled back, “why not? The boy is handsome, educated, good family background and settled. What is your goddamn problem?”

“I don’t believe this! We have been settled in Sydney for the last 27years, but you still believe in the “settled, educated Indian guy” why can’t you accept that I want to get married in my 30s? I am just 27 now”

“That is because in our hearts, we are still Indian and the customs are not going to change for you. For heaven’s sake you haven’t even met that guy yet Riya. Just meet him and then make your decision”

She wasn’t someone who would surrender easily, so was I, so I stormed out of the house to the nearby park.

The park had always been an emotional shelter for me. Whenever I was upset I would go there, sometimes sit for hours and comeback with a light mood and fresh ideas. That day, when I went to sit on my “bench of wisdom”, Uncle Sam was sitting there.

Uncle Sam, Mr. John Samuel, was our neighbor. He lived with his wife. His two sons were married and lived away. Though his name sounded foreign, yet he was of Indian origin. I had always wondered about it. They were Christians, yet his wife, Jasmine prayed in front of lord Krishna. I always wanted to ask, but never did thinking that it was none of my business.

“Hello uncle” I said.

“Hello sweetheart. How are you?”

“Not good. Not at all”

“What’s wrong? You mind sharing with me?”

“Its mom. I don’t know why she is after me to get married? That too arranged. For all I know that guy could be a serial killer”

Uncle nodded, “right. That can happen. Though it s rare, still a possibility. BTW do you like someone else?”

“No. I don’t. But I might, in future”

“Have you talked to the guy your parents have picked?”

“Only over phone”

“Did he sound like “serial killer” types?”

“I don’t know… he sounded extra nice.”

“Ok. Would you mind telling me what is it that you are against? Is it the guy?”

“No. the whole concept of arranged marriage is something I am against. I mean how can I spend my whole life with someone I hardly know? I mean look at my parents, what good did arranged marriage do to them? They can’t even agree on the same ice cream flavor. On the contrary, look at you and Jasmine aunty. I want someone who would make such a pair with me”

He thought for a moment. And then said, “Do you have some time to spare Riya? If yes I would like to tell you a story, at the end of which you might change your mind about arranged marriages”

“I hardly think so. But yes, I would give it a shot”

“The story dates back to 1970s and took place in India. The prime characters of our story are Samir and Jasminder. Our guy, Samir was working as an engineer and when it was time for him to get married, his parents picked up Jasminder for him.”

“Back in those days, guys and girls were not allowed to go out for dates even after their parents met. Samir had just seen Jasminder once when he went to visit their house, and fell in love with her.”

“There was no way by which they could talk. But there was a phone at Jasminder’s house. On the day of their engagement, Samir asked Jasminder for the number. Boy! She did play had to get even after the engagement. But Samir wasn’t someone who would give up easily. He told her that he loved her, to which she smiled. While Samir and his family were returning home after the ceremony, Jasminder slipped a piece of paper into Samir’s hand. On the paper was a number followed by a few instructions:”

“Call me only on Tuesdays between 5-7pm. If anyone picks up the phone except me, don’t say a word. If it’s me, I will refer to you as Sonia. If I call you by some other name that means someone is beside me and I can’t talk. And yes, I like you”

“Samir’s happiness knew no limits. Finally his story was coming on track. She was a dream come true. And that face of hers was brighter that a million moons shining together. Her eyes were like the deepest oceans and her laughter was like a wind chime. All in all she was gorgeous.”

I felt the necessity to intervene, “so they lived happily ever after?”

“Not just yet my dear. Twist comes soon” uncle smiled.

“So where were we? Ah yes! Everything was going great. They would talk over phone on Tuesdays and slowly they started talking every day. They met a few times even and they were like two love birds, made for each other. The love they had burned in their eyes.”

“Problem came, a big one. Just before a week a marriage, Samir’s family came to know that Jasminder was manglik that is she was born on a new moon day. It’s considered unlucky, and believed to prove fatal for the spouse’s life.”

“Samir’s parents were so holding on to the word “manglik” that they decided to call off the marriage. Nothing would change their mind. Both Samir and Jasminder were broken. They both knew they couldn’t live without each other. When Samir knew there was no way that they could be together, he made a decision”

“He prepared visa for himself and Jasminder and left India with her, with a note saying, “I am taking her to someplace where manglik doesn’t matter. I love her and she is the one for me.”

“And then they moved to Sydney, changed their religion so that no one ever bothers about her being manglik”

“Wow! That was some story. Stuff like that can’t exist for real” I said.

“Is that so? Do you know that I was once called Samir?” uncle said with a smile on his face.

“That was your story? And Jasminder is jasmine aunty? Your marriage was arranged and then you had love marriage? Why?”

“Because I love her, so does she. There is no difference in arranged and love marriage if two hearts love each other” he said.

 After that day, I talked to Gaurav, the boy my parents had picked for me, and today is the day we are getting married. Not to mention that we love each other.