Home Coming – (1 min read)

It took the egotistical Shekhar 10 days of cold interactions, distracted office meetings, dull evenings, irregular meals and lonely, frozen nights to finally send an sms that read

‘Are you OK? I AM NOT’

the message had broken the suffocating silence of 10 days but it still didn’t have the necessary ‘miss you’ or ‘ I am sorry’ in it.

Mansi read through those 6 words again and again. His heartache was screaming out those 3 words – ‘I AM NOT’ it was palpable.

The force of love had finally given way to the vast reservoir of raw emotion breaking the walls of several egos in the process.

Inside her, somewhere, a deep breath that was crushed into silence was suddenly released.

When you remove yourself from ‘home’ (seat of comfort and peace) there is not a moment of respite. The toughest way to home is through the heart, but hey! the way to the heart has to its own wayward courses, its troughs and lows, its crushes and blows. It is only through this journey that the heart learns to ‘open up’.

Perhaps, this laying bare of one’s heart (to another person) is, in a way a kind of ‘homecoming‘ too, where there are no inhibitions, no complexes, no egos, no dual selves. And once you are home, the inner battle of pretending to be someone else is over.

Mansi tapped on the reply button and began typing a long message…

40 under 40 (1 min read)

Over glasses of wine, they discussed about ‘him’

It has come in the papers today; he has been named as one of the top 40 entrepreneurs of the country under the age of 40. As the drinks and starters made the rounds in the party that was in, the woman folk began to speak about ‘him’. So many stories of one man, how he helped someone come out of a very difficult situation, how he inspired the youth with his exemplary actions, some huffed, some puffed, the air reverberated with just one name, and why not, he was always the ‘ladies’ man’.

I listened to all of them, quietly, nonchalantly. Then, suddenly someone asked me, ‘hey, are you still in touch with him?’ the ‘still’ in the otherwise inadvertent query, touched a raw nerve somewhere, it pierced me deep. But by now, I have learnt how to put up a blunt face at the mention of his name, or should I say, I have mastered it. Without showing up any bit of emotion, I took a sip of my drink and calmly replied, ‘I used to know him once, not anymore’.

• 

Unusual love story – (1 min read)

His sated eyes steeped with the intoxication of love was searching her, groping past her. His lovesick eyes spoke volumes of his enchantment with the lady lying beside him. He turned towards her and gazed into her deep, maddening eyes.

She slowly got up.

‘Is this moment for real? or am I dreaming all the way?’ He wondered in his mind.

‘My time is up. I have to leave now. Please make the payment at the counter. And.. If you want, you can give me some right now.” She said, all in one breath.

His reverie broke.

He took out few pink notes from his wallet and handed over to her.

‘Thank you Saab’. The money brought a subtle smile on her lips.

She left.

While moving down the staircase of the VIP room, she wondered, ‘why does this gentleman come for me every time and doesn’t even reap his money’s worth?’

While driving down the ‘forbidden lane’, he thought to himself, ‘so what she lives in these lanes and asks for a little extra money every time, I Love her‘.

Not everything in this world can be measured with the yardstick of ‘logic’ certainly not Love.

– Speakometer

Tiny Tales #5 (1 min read)

The little girl didn’t know that her father was no more, that he died few months back leaving herself and her mother all alone in this big bad world.

Whenever she would ask of her dad to her mother, she was told that he is up there in the sky, that he is one of those twinkling stars that are shinning bright in the night. All of 3, she one day looked up at those twinkling stars and announced to her mother that she also wants to go and meet her dad up in the sky. Her mother found it almost impossible to explain to her why she couldn’t do that. She tried her best to dissuade her. “Baby, it’s not possible for to you to go up there.” She said.

Many years later, the little girl proved her mother wrong. Up she went there in the sky one day.

As an Astronaut.

Tiny Tales # 4

Arjun lights the fifth cigarette of the day and checks his mail once again. No, there isn’t any mail from any company. He didn’t eat anything since morning. Despair has engulfed him, sadness has become a constant companion, four months of unemployment has left him utterly dejected. Four cigarettes down already, Arun is feeling a strange pain within him, restlessness coupled with the bleakness of the imminent future.

Ping! Arun’s phone flashes with an Email icon. His fingers linger over the phone, unsure whether he should open it or not, may be its one of those newsletters, or some latest deals in Amazon or flipkart. Such ‘useless’ mails disgusts him even more these days. He clicked on the mail icon. The subject read “Job – Opening as a Manager”

A gush of happiness flowed through his entire system, his heart was thumping with joy. He quickly rubbed the butt of the cigarette on the astray and held the phone with both his palms. He clicked on the ‘Reply’ button of the mail and started typing his response to the HR.

 

Before he knew, his innate “hope” had replaced the dejection in a matter of seconds.

 

Tiny Tale #3

She was a matinee idol, a dream on screen, a diva who awed man and woman alike. Having seen the dizzying heights of success for years on a row, she quietly retired from the acting scene to be the ‘perfect home maker’ and the ‘loving mother’ to her kids. After more than a decade, she hit the silver screen once again with a boom, her success again was too good to be true. More than anything, her divine beauty even at the age of 50 was astounding to one and all! No wrinkles on the face, no fat chunks hanging from any part of the body. She was the “perfect” diva even at this age. She was indeed a walking, talking dream!

Till life was snuffed out of her suddenly, mercilessly, cruelly.

 

RIP Sridevi.

 

 

 

 

Tiny tales #2

He gave many interviews after coming to this city but didn’t get any job for the first 3 months. His distant uncle signalled him to get a job and move out soon. With no job in hand, he shifted to a chawl. The guy who had a big bed to himself back home, now had to make do with a small, cramped space. Mumbai can be rude, very rude.

The owner of his room, a lady came one day and threatened him to clear his dues soon. He couldn’t speak anything that day, didn’t have any money to pay, not even the meagre rent amount of the chawl. She unexpectedly softened looking at his large tearfilled eyes, asked him to assist her in her fish selling business and with a firm pat on his back said, “don’t have to pay me any rent from now on.”

Mumbai can be kind also, strangely kind.

 

Tiny Tales # 1

She lost her husband two years after the wedding.
It’s been 1 year now, she had mourned enough. Her widowhood has become a burden too heavy to carrry on for her. Her eyebrows have become bushy, her hair has lost its sheen, her face it’s glow. Secretly inside her heart she wishes to go to the parlour and get a makeover done, buy a new dress, take a selfie with her old buddies, eat out at restaurants and so much more…..
She can’t. Society wants her to mourn.