Sweet and sour!!!

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 41; the forty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "SWEET AND SOUR"

“All the world's a stage,And all the men and women merely players;They have their exits and their entrances,And one man in his time plays many parts...”

William Shakespeare

Suhana got off the Rithala – Dilshad Garden metro line at the Kashmiri gate metro station. Yesterday had been a tiring day for her with late night meeting and a late night visit from distant relatives. Absorbed in her thoughts, as she proceeded towards escalator she noticed an old woman standing by; yet undecided between waiting for an overcrowded lift, long staircase or trying to go through the escalator. She went to the lady, held her hand and supported her in getting on and off the escalator. As the lady got off, she said “Thanks for the help! You are such a sweet dearie.”

As she boarded the Gurgaon line for office, she knew she wasn’t going to get any seat. As she navigated through the wave of sea that the Delhi metro had become off late; she noticed a women reserved seat with no women nearby to occupy it. But as she reached it, two young guys hurriedly sat on it. Tired as she was, she told them to read the sign above and vacate the seat. As they reluctantly got off, she heard them say “What has gotten into her? Must have sucked a lemon to be in such a sour mood!”

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: XX

Second chance

Mark’s sleep was broken by a sudden sound of a truck back firing. Looking at his alarm clock, he saw that it was 4’O clock. Finally the day was here. Today was the day, 23rd Aug, that his review committee was scheduled to meet. And then his eye fell on the papers that he was supposed to have graded two days ago. He grumbled about the time, or rather lack of it, and went back to sleep.

As he slept off, he began to have an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach about the day ahead. His first taste of the day began when his alarm clock did not ring off and led him to oversleep till 7 AM. With the result that he was now running late by an hour compared to his original schedule. And that too on the day that his review committee was set to meet at 10 in the morning, in the campus and he was to finally get his long awaited chance of explaining to the committee why he should get a grant to conduct research on the “Economic Opportunity and Losses of the Global Warming”. He did not need this to happen. Not today, he didn’t. Not to forget the evening dinner that he had been planning with Sarah for so long. After a ton of procrastination, today was the day when they were finally going to get together for a lovely evening and it would not go well with Sarah if he did anything to jeopardize that.

He quickly washed himself and shaved. He took a quick look at his appearance and dashed off to the campus lest he should miss his 8’O clock bus from the pickup point two blocks away; reminding himself to take his blood pressure medicine with a quick bite in the institute cafeteria.

As luck would have it, he reached the pickup point at fifteen minutes past and missed the bus. Now he would have to board a taxi from the other end of the block and that would mean a delay of another half an hour. “Bother!” exclaimed Mark.

Not left with any other option, he walked to the other end of the block and hailed a passing cab. Sitting in the cab, he started to feel the beginnings of a headache. “I will have the medicine first thing I reach campus” resolved Mark.

By the time he reached the campus, it was already 9:30. Still left with around thirty minutes before his encounter with the committee, he went to the cafeteria to order his favorite ham on rye and a cappuccino. He was just about to dig in when a he heard someone calling his name from the hallway. Michael, his friend came frantically running to him. “What the bollocks are you doing here? And why is your phone switched off? The committee decided to meet at 9 and I was desperately trying to call you but to no avail”. Post-poning any further questions, Mark abandoned the thought of the sandwich and ran to the committee room to meet the ‘vultures’ as the committee was popularly known as.

As he entered the committee room at 9:50; he noticed two things: First, if the expressions of the members were anything to go by, his grant appeal was as good as turned down; and Second, he had left his preparatory material in the cafeteria itself. Deciding to brave the five member committee as it is, as going back for the material would have been a certain suicide; Mark walked to the center stage. “I apologize to keep you all waiting but due to an unfortunate combination of a faulty alarm clock, unpaid mobile bills and not being aware of the change in timings has led to such unfortunate delay. I fully…” Mark was stopped in the mid sentence on the vulture on the extreme left. “Where is you preparatory material and where are our copies? How are we supposed to follow what you are saying?” asked she; and the meeting progressively worsened with each passing minute.

When Mark came out of the room after the torture of full sixty minutes, he felt as if the day could not get any worse. He came out only to find a clerk waiting with a note from the Dean to meet him immediately. Rubbings his temples to relieve what was now turning out to be a full blown headache; he trudged towards the Dean’s office, still having his ham on rye sandwich in mind.

Dean: “You missed yet another class today!” started the dean without any obligatory niceties.

Mark: “I am sorry sir that this happened today but it was not a fault of mine. First my alarm clock didn’t work and then the missed bus and irate vultures… I mean the committee. I do sincerely apologize and promise that this wouldn’t happen in future.”

D: “Have you graded the papers that I gave you?”

M: “Umm… no sir but I was planning to do them today after going back.”

D: “So let me promise that there would not be a next time as from today, for the next six months, I am putting you on probation. If your performance does not improve in the next six months, we have to let you go. Please hand me the graded papers before the end of day today”

 The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activities. In the evening, Mark began to evaluate the papers to be handed over to the Dean. At six, Mark was just finishing up grading the papers and planning to get busy in preparing a session plan for the next day and did not realize the time when he was jolted by incoming call from his girlfriend Sarah. This reminded him that at that time they were supposed to be at the 6’O clock show at the mall.

Sarah: “Where are you?” said an icy cold voice from the other end.

Mark: “Got a bit occupied in course planning. You wouldn’t believe the day I had, if I tell you.”

S: “Worse than standing in a queue outside a theater, dressed in white dress and waiting for someone who had been promising to watch the movie for over a month now?”

M: “Umm… different worse?” ventured Mark.

S: “Hmm… We need to talk about us and what you need to do if you want ‘US’ to work out!” And she cut off the phone.

 The throbbing headache, lack of medicine combined with the exhaustion and stress of the day began to take a toll on Mark and he fell asleep on the table itself.

BAM! The noise of a truck back firing woke Mark. It was a moment before he realized that he was in his bed and not in his classroom. The dial on alarm clock declared 4 AM on 23rd Aug.

Wondering if it all was a dream because if it was a dream, it felt very real; his eyes fell on the papers he was supposed to have graded two days ago. He decided to let go of the sleep and began evaluating the papers!

The forbidden love

We all know of stories how people from different background fall in love heads over heel with each other and have to fight their family tooth and nail for this love. We know a friend or a friend’s friend who had suffered the exact same story. Some end up being together for the eternity (dead or alive) and for some it remains yet another story which never came to fruition. But how many of us know of grandfathers and grandmothers with such stories?

What really instigated me to write this story is about that the fact that we all talk about love marriages and people falling in love heads over heel like it is a recent concept. But it is not. It must not be. I am sure people would have been falling in love with each other all the time even when arranged marriages were a dictum and love marriages a heresy. And when you hear of a sixty year old recounting her falling in love, not just love but forbidden love, and marrying the man of her dreams… It is sure to be of interest to everyone.

Well this story is about such a couple who fought everyone (well not literally! This isn’t Pardes) for their love… and ended up being together. This is a post for Get Published contest at Indiblogger. An initiative between Indiblogger and HarperCollins

Love at first sight

Tim and Helen fell in love with each other the moment they saw each other. Of course they did not know it at that time. At that time they thought they hated each other’s guts.

As the two lawyers sat on the opposite sides of tables with their clients; all they could think of how they hated the very presence of other. It did not help that the couple that they were representing, Mr. and Mrs. Markham, were hell bent on fighting each other to the last penny; with the result that the lawyers were automatically at each other’s throat 24X7.

Sometimes Mrs. Markham would have a renewed interest in something that Mr. Markham was favoring such as the Mongolian vase that they bought five years ago. So she would call Helen who in turn would call Tim at one in the morning to discuss the issue. They would keep on fighting till one of them has their way. Similarly, Mr. Markham would have similar urges to lay claim over something that Mrs. Markham simply could not live without such as their black Labrador. So Tim would call Helen in the middle of her yoga sessions and have one of their spontaneous shouting matches, known for their ferociousness and tenacity.

Their next meeting was not in even such amicable circumstances, if there could be something even worse than that. They were in a car accident. I don’t mean a car accident case. But a live car accident of their own! Well, to call it an accident would be an exaggeration as Helen’s car had just bumped into Tim’s. No dent or anything but a minor scratch that wasn’t, under other circumstances, even worth mentioning but they just couldn’t let go of the opportunity to be at each other’s throat. Thankfully, an elderly gentleman passing by interfered to bring peace to the two or else I am sure there would have been a homicide case to boot.

The next time they met, the circumstances were a bit more docile. They were involved in the divorce of the sweetest couple they knew in their entire career. There were some minor differences amongst Mr. and Mrs. Raina on which they were not adjusting with each other. A bit of adjustment was all that was needed to get this marriage working. Otherwise, they were a perfect match for each other. Not only in terms of qualifications; but their temper and affability to all resembled. At times they were opposite to each other but as they say “Opposites attract”. That was certainly true in their case. As it happened, the way they ran things was exactly opposite to the Malkani couple. One day, Mrs. Raina was going through her collection of CDs when she started to sob suddenly. When Helen enquired as to the cause, she saw a Bob Dylan track which was Mr. Raina’s favorite. Similarly Mr. Raina could not contain his emotions while looking at the dummy bison trophy that they had gotten from their trip to South Africa.

It was then that Tim and Helen decided to join forces, as difficult as it was for them to acknowledge each other without sneers or snorts, to get the couple together.

The day that the Rainas decided to forego the idea of divorce was a momentous occasion for the two lawyers and they made an exception to have a gala celebration with just the two of them at the grand central hotel. Each made a vow that this was to be a one off exception and that they would be loathe working on the same side again in the future. Except that it wasn’t and they weren’t.

Another year or so passed before the two met each other. And it wasn’t in one of their usual spots vis the corridors or courtroom or bar rooms or in library conducting research or in a Constabulary supporting their “victim”. It was at an art gallery, of all places. Incidentally the two of them were invited by a common friend, which they didn’t think would exist but did. Not knowing any soul other than each other, and being the least bit interested in art, they decided to pass the evening by chatting with each other. It was at the chat that they realized that the two of them shared more than a common art friend and a profession. They both loved hard rock and despised Justin Bieber. Both were a diehard fan of continental cuisine, loved travelling and going on adventure sports. There were traits in which they were as opposite as they could be. But more often than not, they were like a purrfect match for each other. The two of them could feel a growing sense of elation at having found someone so similar to their own selves. But even now was not the time that decided to get together. Although, after the “Art Gallery Incident”, as they fondly used to call that evening, they began to going out more often. They decided to keep it casual. They would go out for a lunch, for couple dinner dates and so on. Though, after some time Helen started to became restless as she was genuinely beginning to like Tim a lot and wanted to take the relation to the next level but was getting exasperated that Tim wasn’t picking the hints she was throwing for becoming more than just “Friends”. He, she felt, was more than happy with the casual relation that they were maintaining.

Then one night changed it all.

It was a wonderfully clear night. Perfect for an outing. That night they set a dinner date at a fancy new Italian diner in their vicinity. They ordered foie-de-gras and sparkling white wine. They started to talk on a wide variety of topics, pending cases, new amendments, friends, family etc… until they came to the section on future. It was then that Tim dropped the bomb on Helen.

You know what? It was a good thing that we decided to keep things casual. It gave me enough time to explore various opportunities. I think I might have now found my true one.

Uhmm… said a shocked Helen.

In fact, I think I will propose to her soon. And I think I will do it in a slightly different way. People give rings in proposals. I would like to give her a pendant or something. That would be amazing, wouldn’t it?

Yes. That would be swell!

Rest of the evening passed without any further mention of the proposal and that night, for the first time in years, Helen cried her heart out. Then she resolved, she would be absolutely supporting of whosoever Tim chooses and never reveal her emotions to him.

Another week passed before she heard from Tim again. He called her up on Saturday evening to fix up a dinner date. He had some exciting news to share with her, he said. Bracing herself she went to the dinner.

I kind of told her that I am planning to propose!

That is wonderful news. How did she react?

I…I… I haven’t told her in exact words as yet. Just dropped some hints. I am planning to propose to her with this locket. Do look at it and tell me how is it?

He gave her the heart shaped locket. It has T and H etched on the surface in beautiful calligraphy. Sighing, she turned it around to see another carved on the back with the inscription “Love you Always”.

Open it. Said an excited Tim.

She opened the locket to see a small cutout of Tim’s face wedged on one of the sides.

She almost dropped the locket when she looked at the other side to see a small, heart shaped mirror showing her reflection.

Confused, she looked up to Tim… Only to find him on his knees!

 “Wow granny! That is such a wonderful story” exclaimed the ten year Naira. “Did you know the couple very well”? “Well you can say that they were very very close friends” replied grandma, fingering the golden locket with the initials T & H on the front and a small heart on the back.

PS: Apologies for such a long gap between the posts but had so much to do that I couldnt find any time for the posts...

PPS: This post marks the completion of my 101 posts... yipppeee!!!


PPS: The rest of the Johannesburg/South Afria diaries will follow soon!

Journey to the world

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 19; the nineteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

I don’t remember who I am. I gained consciousness only a few days back. My past is still a mystery to me. I try and try to remember something, anything, about my past but I keep on drawing a blank.

At times I hear voices around me… But when I try to see, I don’t find anyone around me.

Food and water mysteriously appears in my small room.

Okay, room is a slight exaggeration. It is a dark, dank, round kind of room. Humidity is very perceptible in the very air.

Days have been passing just like that. With each passing day, it seems that the room is getting a bit smaller… Or perhaps I am getting bigger. I can’t think straight. Don’t know what reality is and what is dream. I kind of feel like I am in a trance like state.

I can feel perceptible changes in my body too. My hair has grown longer. I have harder bits on my fingertips.

Of lately, I have been feeling kind of restless. All of a sudden, I feel an urge to move. I don’t know the direction but some primal instinct is making me move one way. Gradually, what seems like rays of light began to appear at one end.

Suddenly, I was lifted from my feet and I heard the person say “Congratulations. You have a healthy baby boy”.

Images courtesy: topicshare.net, island11.files.wordpress.com

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

The Prophecy!!!

This post is written for BLOGESHWAR and Anubhooti.

“I swear had I known that something of this nature was going around in his mind, I would have stopped him. But there was nothing. Even till that day he was fine. He was normal. We had dinner that day and as usual he complained about my chapatti but still ate five of them. Little did I know that he was thinking of killing himself” said a sobbing Anita.

“But that still doesn’t explain the one crore life insurance that he took last year and which he, obviously, did not have enough resources to pay premium for!” exclaimed inspector Tambe. “I am sure there is more to this than meets the eye. Make sure madam you have some answers for me when I come back next time.”

“Uff. That inspector is such a stuffy guy, bothering you and all. Would you like to have a cup of tea?” asked Mrs. Sharma, their next door neighbor.

“No thanks. I think I will take a quick nap now.” Anita tried to reply politely, being tired of all the conversation around Rajesh’s untimely demise.

“See now that won’t do! You have children to take care of now. If you get depressed now, what would happen to them? If you ask me, go to some babaji and satsangs for some time. Would help you take your mind off the entire issue. If fact, had we known about how Rajesh was feeling; I could have taken him to babaji who would have helped him a lot” ranted Mrs. Sharma. “Now I must get going, Sharmaji must be about to come home. Take care.”

Smiling at what Rajesh’s reaction would have been had he heard of Mrs. Sharma’s offer to take him to a babaji brought a flash of smile on Anita’s lips as she remembered very well the explicit views that Rajesh had on the ‘thugs and thieves’ that were the babajis and gurujis of the world.

This gave her some energy to sort some of the affairs at the home now that all the relatives and well wishers had gone back.

The “sorting” took well over three hours when Anita finally put the last utensil back in the topmost kitchen cupboard. She was about to close it when, suddenly, a small box hidden in the back fell down to reveal a yellowing sealed envelope.

Immediately her mind flashed back to that fateful evening fifteen years ago with Pandit Shyam Sunder when Rajesh had dared Anita to prove beyond doubt that Shyam Sunder was nothing but a fake.

“Please sir! I implore you to share it with me” said Rajesh.

“But son you do not know the true burden of knowing the truth about your death”.

“You will live your life in the fear of death. There will be no moment that you will not think about it.”

“I do not care about that. In fact, there is no better way to prove your genuineness than that.”

“But I can’t go on telling people when they will die!!!”

“OK! So why don’t you write it on a paper and give it to Anita. That way I won’t know it and it would still add to your credibility.”

Stuck like that, Panditji took out his sheaf of papers, started some calculations and wrote down something on a Parchment before sealing it in an envelope with hot wax and red ribbon and gave it to Anita for safekeeping and away from the eyes of Rajesh!

Curiosity gained the better of Anita, who bent down to retrieve the sealed envelope to confirm the written date… Only to find the envelope unsealed.

Slowly, she extracted the crackling parchment from the envelope and looked at the date on the parchment and could not stop the warm flow on her cheeks. Brushing away the tears, she casually turned over the parchment and a chill suddenly ran down her spine.

Back of the parchment was covered in a scrawl she had come to recognize so very well over the years and was often a teasing point between them; revealing the last words of her late husband.

Sorry! Spend money well

Images courtesy: www.bibleprophecyupdate.com

Celebrations

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

She heard the deep voice of Amitabh Saying “Cadbury Celebrations! Kuchh meetha ho jaaye”. Celebrations are the last things on our minds, she thought. A mother of three who had to take care of them by working as part time maid in four households and knitting woolen blankets for the riches in the evening. And she didn’t have the support of her husband either. That drunkard bas***d had run off in a drunken spree from his home and came in the way of an incoming train.

Suppressing her sobs she focused on work of Diwali cleaning that she was currently engaged in. “what a pity” she thought “I clean every one’s home spic and span and that too when I have a single room which, however much I try, cannot find enough unoccupied space worth cleaning”. With three adolescent children with her in the single room accommodation, there was barely any space to live; let alone worth bothering with for Diwali cleaning.

Though she was the sole bread earner for her family, the thought of getting her children to work in order to support the family never entered her mind. Not even for once. She wanted a brighter future for them and was ready to make any sacrifice to ensure that they do get ample education for some future not involving cleaning others’ homes. Not that the children never offered. The eldest, Rajesh, offered to quit studies and work part time at a nearby factory at the age of fourteen, five years ago when her husband died, met with a determined NO from her. At nineteen, he was now enrolled in a vocational institution and training to become an electrician.

But money was getting harder to earn these days. She had to work hard to make all the ends meet. And it was at occasions like these when she felt so sorry for herself and the life that her kids were forced to live.

“Maya!” came the jarring voice of madam. “You haven’t cleaned the side table in the drawing room yet. Soon you will finish the work haphazardly and go to that Mrs. Sharma. Do I not pay you equally? Why does she get more work done than me?” she carried on.

By the time she was done with the chores of Mrs Sharma, it was already dark. And she had not bought anything for Diwali as yet. Nor did she have any money for it. “Yet another day in the dark especially on the day of lights. Such is my fortune that I cannot even provide enough to get some candles and sweets for my children.”

As she went to their room, she was surprised to see her children standing outside the door. Anticipating some trouble, she went to them in trepidation and asked them if something was wrong. They consoled her and assured her that all was fine. They just felt like waiting for her on the door for her. They took her hands and guided her inside. Inside, she was pleasantly surprised to see a stack of candles and Diyas, a pack of Cadbury chocolates and some firecrackers besides them.

“Mom we wanted to surprise you with this. We have been saving for these for some time now just so that, for a change, we could work towards providing you with something”. And that in itself was a bigger celebration for her than all the sweets and lighting in the world combined.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

PS: This is my first ever attempt at writing a short story. Do tell how did the attempt fare?