Divorce

That punctual servant of all world, the sun, had risen, it was a bright Sunday morning. Anuja woke up to her cell phone ringing at her bedside.

"Anuja, how can you be sleeping so late, and that too today. Remember today is my divorce hearing, and I want you to be on my side." 

"Anuja rubbed her eyes and poked Sunil on the other side of the bed. "Wake up Sunil, your friend needs you today, Lisha called me and I am going to meet her in 30 minutes, you don't forget to be with Rahul." Sunil turned over and slept again. 

Anuja got ready quickly, there was no time for breakfast, she decided they can have something to eat on the way. Sunil got up a little later and was getting ready too. 

Though Rahul had not called Sunil but it was understood that he would be beside Rahul in this most difficult day of his life.

Sunil and Anuja decided to take their own cars as there was a chance that the divorcing couple would need to be dropped off or would need a refuge for sometime during the proceedings. 

They agreed to eat at the courthouse breakfast joint, they both had heard about the awesome vada they serve there. They had just begun eating when Lisha joined them. She was hungry too and she ordered vada for herself. Rahul came in silently and took a table two three tables away. He may have seen them with Lisha so he did not join them. 

Sunil surreptitiously moved to Rahul's table after making a quick eye contact with Anuja. Lisha and Anuja kept eating without exchanging any words. 

Anuja felt a pang of deep pain to see how Lisha and Rahul's Divorce was causing a rift between her and Sunil too. They had stopped talking about the two of them some months ago, after realising that their friend's domestic struggle was bringing them apart too. 

But there were times when each of them would have heard something disturbing from Lisha or Rahul and would pass in a jibe to the other. 

"Your friend just dumped Rahul's work clothes out in the rain yesterday." Sunil would say.

"Your friend crashed in on Lisha when she was having lunch with her colleagues and yelled at her for being callous, in front of all her colleagues." Anuja would say.

But they both were slowly realising that their marriage was also hanging on invisible threads, and if they severed too many of them, they would fall apart too. So both of them consciously stopped discussing Lisha and Rahul at home. 

Anuja knew that today was not the day, still she wanted to ask Lisha if she wanted to rethink her decision. The couple had been living apart for a whole year. In this time Anuja and Rahul had tough time deciding who should be called to which party, who should be given refuge in their home from time to time when either of them suffered a breakdown. They were the closest friends of Lisha and Rahul. They were literally like family. 

Anuja said very cautiously, "Lisha, I know now is not the right time. But after today there will be no turning back. Have you made up your mind?"

Lisha looked up at Anuja incredulously, "Is this the time to ask this? You know everything that happened. You know I have cried for days because of Rahul." 

"Yes I know all that. I stuck with you in those times, but that does not mean I agreed to your judgments. I hoped someone would tell you where you were getting it wrong. Someone from your family. But no one intervened and no one understood. I have realised that we were the closest family you had and we were just playing it safe with your both. And I will not be able to forgive myself for not having tried."

'Thank you, Anuja, now you have tried and it has not worked, can we move on?" Lisha snapped. 

"No I have not tried enough. Just give m a moment, I need Sunil here. I need to talk to him." She messaged Sunil on his cell phone. Sunil was so engrossed in listening to his friend, he did not notice, she called him and asked him to check his message. It said, "Sunil I need you to come here."

Sunil glared at Anuja, what was she thinking, leave Rahul alone and go to Lisha? Bet he decided to go anyway. Anuja caught Sunil midway. She said we have got it all wrong. You should be with Lisha and I with Rahul. Let's swap. 

Sunil suddenly realised that there was sense in this, even if Anuja thought it up too late, there is nothing to lose. 

Anuja joined Rahul at his table. "Rahul what is up are you sure you want to do this?" She said without any preamble. 

Rahul was so stressed and restless, he looked up from his cup of black coffee and said nothing. Anuja knew she had the answer. But it was too late now. Lisha and Rahul were divorcing and their closest friends had not been able to reconcile them because they were busy picking an choosing between the two of them. What could be done! 

Suddenly, they heard a commotion from the courthouse and a gunshot. People were running heater skelter. Anuja called Sunil out alarmed, "let us get out of here Sunil." Rahul and Lisha had taken public transport. Sunil did not want to let Anuja go separately, so he suggested that they take his car back and leave Anuja's car at the courthouse. Rahul offered to drive Anuja's car back for her. Sunil said, "Anuja you are coming with me." Lisha was torn between them. She looked at Rahul, Sunil just told things about Rahul, which was not aware of, she was struggling with the information. She said I will come with you Rahul. Rahul said a curt okay. They rushed to get the cars and get out. 

They all reached at the same time. There was a commotion on the streets too, a riot had broken out in the city. Anuja and Sunil did not want Lisha and Rahul to go back to their respective homes alone. They insisted that they stay with them. 

No one knew what would come next but for some time all of them were exactly like they used to be before. Lisha and Rahul decided to stay with Sunil and Anuja for the night. 

They were both together under the same roof after a whole year. They were no more angry but they were heart broken. Anuja and Sunil were exhausted. They knew that the emotional journey they had taken with Lisha and Rahul and last one year was no less tormenting. 

They just did not have the energy to do it anymore. They could have been in grave danger today and everyone was glad they made it safely from the courthouse. 

The next date for divorce hearing would be decided later. Till then there was a status quo. 

"Guys I am not feeling alright," Anuja announced early in the evening, "I am going to sleep." Sunil followed her to check on her. He told Rahul how to get the extra mattress and gave him some clean sheets. He asked Lisha to use the guest bedroom and he retired with Anuja too. 

Somehow Anuja and Sunil were tired of taking Rahul and Lisha's problem as theirs and of separating themselves because of the estranged couple.  They did not offer to make any adjustments for them. They just did not want anymore of it anymore. 

Who knows what is in store during these days of deferment of the court's decision. It was just some days of deferment but it had been worth it. At least that was something, thought Anuja to herself as she dosed off.

Tailgating

No one ever gave me directions like this, Anuja thought as she heard this for the nth time from Sunil, "stay in your lane and maintain the speed limit." Sunil was a thorough back seat driver. He would not spare any opportunity. Anuja seethed with anger when he spoke non-stop as she drove, telling her how to drive.

"Incorrigible Sunil." She muttered under her breath. "But that car behind me is honking, let me take care of this." Said Anuja as she changed the lane. But she was not careful enough, the car in her blind spot honked and as it overtook her, she saw 4 angry faces in the car.

"We could have been killed." Sunil yelled, "what is up with you." Anuja knew that this would be replayed to her every time she drove in Sunil's presence. And that was it.

"What is with you, why are you not listening?" Sunil shouted anxiously, as Anuja kept changing lanes.

"We are being tailgated, that guy appears drunk, but why is he following us? Look...."

Sunil did not let her finish her sentence, he cut in, in an irritated voice, "... it is not possible Anuja, why would he tailgate you. You must be imagining it."

"Just keep watching that black Volkswagen, it is driving very close to us." Anuja pointed on the rear view mirror, sounding quite concerned.

"Why don't you just go to the left lane and let him go?" Sunil said.

"I did, he changes lanes too!" Said Anuja perplexed.

She showed the left indicator, and this time Sunil saw it too. The black Volkswagen changed lanes with them. A chill ran under their skin. They had heard of highway incidents of road rage and drunken driving. Those were very common in their city. This was different. This was a real car chase. It was deliberate and therefore disturbing.

Sunil looked back and tried to peer through the rear screen to see if he could recognise any of the passengers in the car. But he did not. The guy on the driver's seat was a chauffeur, in a uniform. He was not drunk and he was tailgating their car unmistakably.

When they saw Sunil looking back, the car slowed down. It picked up speed again when Sunil turned away. What was going on?

"You keep driving as if nothing has happened Anuja. Let me take care of it." Said Sunil at length.

Anuja heaved a sigh of relief and secretly thanked the tailgater for getting Sunil off her shoulder for a while. She decided she will message her friend later to thank her.

That was her friend's driver. Anuja had asked her to give them a shock just for some fun. And also to get rid of of one particular backseat driver and make him be just a passenger.

"It would not last for ever." Anuja thought, "Sunil will be the back seat driver again, but it had been worth it. At least that was something."

Easy Come and Easy Go

"It is was clear as writing on the wall! how did you not notice it!" exploded the trainer. "You spent two full years training for this event and now you have lost it, just because of some devious moron?" Anna had no answer, rather she did not want to answer. The coach would not have been so vehement if he knew why she blew up her chance, she thought. "If ever there was an opportunity, this was it!  Now you have to wait another two years to get into the national team! Why did you blow it up?"

Anna handed him the note she was clutching in her fist. He opened the crumpled piece of paper. 'I know about you and coach!' Said the crumpled paper! "What option did I have?" Anna said, pointing to the paper!

"You could have denied allegations. She was probably playing you. I told you she is deceitful and arrogant." The coach kept yelling, "I can assure you that and she knows nothing about us. How can she probably? Unless you told her?"

"Why would I tell her about us? I don't even speak with her a single sentence without starting off a fight! She handed this to me because she knew I would not talk to her! And what about you? Did you tell her." Asked Anna accusatively.

"Why would I tell her...!" Said the coach, faltering a little, "I don't make casual conversation with my trainees."

"Well you did with me! So what stops you from doing it with others." Interjected Anna.

"I wonder what you have in mind Anna?" Asked the coach exasperated.

Just then the door opened. "Is she taken care of?" Maria walked in, not realising that Anna was still there. "Ahhh.....," she said, Realising her mistake.

"so you guys are in it together!" Anna yelled. "What have you been up to behind my back?" She shouted at the coach.

"I am taking the side of the champion. Maria is in the national team, how can I not b on her side?"

"Why?" Anna asked eventually.

"Because I lost faith in you. You are too predictable. I needed someone with a bit of a cunning." Responded the coach, as if it was a mere training session.

"And you cheated me? What if I turn out to be cunning? I could have you fired. I just have to report that you seduced me."

"Ha, Ha, Ha, don't joke, you can't harm a fly!" interjected Maria. "I knew something was not quite right Anna, I found out about coach and you just by chance." Maria deviously explained. "I also knew that I wanted the coach on my side. So I played you and it worked! All is well that ends well"

"So that is it. It was merely about the team and you never cared for me?" Asked Anna to the coach.

"I did and I would," said the coach, "but you are gullible. I could break you so easily. And did you think it was true love and all that! I was just having fun. Weren't you taking advantage of me too?"

"Oh yes she was! She was sleeping with the coach and taking all his attention, while we other team members were competing for his attention!" Maria said contemptuously. "Admit it, you played all the wrong cards."

"Oh no, I did not come this far to just be dealt a wrong hand, I will not let you get away with it." Cried Anna.

"Sure you will," replied the coach, "you will find that I have reported to the authorities that you tried to seduce me. At this moment they are preparing your expulsion letter."

"And I will take care of the media, if you do not refrain from this mudslinging!" Added Maria.

It was a room full of self serving individuals getting into murky transactions, which they loosely called success. But Anna, Maria and Coach were just the same people, taking advantage of the situation to become successful. Does it matter who won?

Don't Bother Me Brother

I was on my way to the market and he came from behind me and slapped on my shoulder heavily, frightened I looked back and found it was only my brother. "Leave me alone," I yelled at him. But he never listens to me. He stayed with me through my shopping, tapping lovingly on my head softly sometimes and pulling my hair sometimes. No amount of cautioning stopped him. Brothers can be such a pain in the neck!

I was on my way to work and who do I find whistling at the back seat! Startled at first, but then I recognised him from that peculiar whistling sound. "Are you serious?" I yelled, trying to keep my car in control. "This is not funny, I am on my way to work!" He just laughed, giggled and roared all at the same time, throughly enjoying how he was annoying me. Brothers! I tell you...

I was in a flight and someone pushed me so hard, I almost fell over the passenger next to me. Not my brother again! He was right there. Smiling annoyingly. My brother I tell you does not know when to leave me alone!

I was in a meeting and my phone vibrates, I check the number and instantly know it's my brother. I run to pick it, otherwise that prankster, he will barge into the meeting room with some pretext. I really get pissed off with my brother.

I was sleeping soundly. I was even having a dream, and a loud thud awakes me, that had to be my brother. He does it every night. Every night he re-enacts his falling off from the balcony and dying. His blood ridden body on the hard ground of the driveway. I see it everyday. I never sleep past two a.m. and he is behind me everywhere I go. He believes he is guarding me from something. Perhaps the thing or person who tossed him off the balcony.

I have learnt to sleep early and get enough sleep before the thud. And even though he is annoying, he is my brother. I wish I could tell him, don't bother me brother!

The Unseen

There is a part of the world that remains unseen. Never seen, but they are not unperceived just because they are unseen. Think about it, if you can perceive it and not see it, what would it be? A ghost? Or just a mystery! What is the point in naming the unnamed or unseen?

My antique watch reminds me of one such unseen, the memory of my long gone ancestors. They were gone and mostly forgotten, besides for me and my nearest relatives. They would disappear even from the family memories after a few generations. The problem was that the watch ticked on its own whenever it felt like. And the other problem was that, I could not keep it away from me. If I left it anywhere it just found its way back to me.

For example, I lost it at the pond the other day. And guess what, a corpse surfaced from the pond the next day and on top of it was my watch. The police gave me a hard time, they said circumstantial evidence. I said it is the watch, it keeps coming back to me, no matter what. The police said, they have never heard such a lame excuse. Anyway, lucky for me the corpse was also holding a fistful of hair and it was established they were not mine. The owner of those ugly hair was found with a bald spot on his head and was hanged.

Then there was this train going on the railway track and I got just the idea. I left the watch on the track. And guess what! A dog came running from nowhere, picked the watch and brought it right back to me. And then it wanted a reward for that! I would tie it along with the watch to the railway line but I let go, because I knew it was not the dog's fault. I only tied the dog to the railway track, as a punishment.

Then there was this incident where I dumped my watch in the boiling cauldron of dal, being prepared for a party of 2000. I was sure that by the time it was found, it would be crushed out of recognition. The first cook to put his ladle in the dal, within seconds of me dropping it, fished out the watch intact in his ladle. This time I couldn't do anything. The cook had the advantage over me, I just dropped a stone so hard in the cauldron that the cook was seriously scalded and taken to hospital.

I tried mixer grinder, flour mill, sewage... and that sewage story is really something. I dumped the watch in the sewage only to be awakened by the police, late in the night. They were holding my watch. They said that there was a blockage in someone's outlet and that they found the watch and realised I might have lost it. I took it and said nothing. Just asked them whose sewage pipe it was. I burned the entire house later.

The watch was making me do all this. I did nothing on my own. The watch asked me to do it. It would tick just slightly and tell me who the next victim was. And trust me, I tried really hard not to listen to it. I even threw it away so many times, but someone finds it every time and brings it back to me.

If you ever find my watch, try not to bring it to me.

My Lockdown Angst

Days just kept getting longer, the chores interminable. Seventies in 2020. Missing conveniences I was so used to. Driving down to the grocery store has become a treat. Seeing real people other than family members a rare occurrence. Did we ever imagine that life was so fragile. One particular day, I was in this massive event, meeting hundreds of people, shaking hands with them, hugging them, making small talks with them, connecting with them and then two days later, there was complete lockdown. All public gatherings banned. The corona virus siege on the humankind.

It is the 2020. Today people can easily live a life without setting a foot into the outside world. In-fact some people have even experimented with this and gone on for months on end. Age of the Agoraphobics. You can google the meaning of the word without moving from where you are seated... remember those bulky dictionaries? They are things of the past. On my sofa there is a whole world. At my door step the whole world bows to me. With the press of a few buttons, I can have the furnitures, the electronics, the books, the files the parcels, the groceries, the fresh cooked food, whatever I need. The world is like a video game today.

I took the outside world so for granted, I had no idea that it meant anything to me. I mean I can always blog away my angst against the outside world and gain many cyber sympathies and hope that the targeted person would get the message. We lock our emotions in the digital space. Others, are just playthings. They are hot gossip, ridiculous, inspiring, unbelievable and outrageous on Facebook, WhatsApp, twitter and Instagram. And they are faceless if they are not on the Facebook. If they don't follow us on these they are not our friends,  unless they have a fancy title to go with their names in Linked-in. To this world of strangers, COVID19 did not wreck much havoc. In-fact some of us are so relieved, we don't have to go out everyday to do the same work, which we now do more effectively from the comfort of our homes.

To children, we describe strangers like this: don't rely on them, don't talk to them, stay away from them; don't go near them, don't take chocolates and biscuits for them and don't go anywhere with them, Nothing wrong with it. But then we also need to give them an environment of familiar faces. Youngsters of today feel very secure chatting with their friends on phone and WhatsApp. It is a lot less challenging and a lot easier to break off from the game, in case of dispute.

I feared strangers too. Not just a little, I would break down every time I went out and returned home. Every day. Yet back then, I did not have a choice. As I grew I became comfortable with people and made friends. Even without the fear of strangers, people are still many things, competitors, followers, appreciaters, look downers, haters, conspirers and secret admirers. The risk of being caught in a huff is always there. No one is perfect, not even in their respective roles towards you. They keep switching their position towards you, like shrewd stock market traders. Best solution is to keep a distance. But it was always figurative, never literal. And therefore it is now quite a thing to know that the distance has to be literal.

I am not sure when this will end, but next time when I see strangers, I am going to bless them.

Deja-vu

The scene was all set, the killer would come from behind the stage in a huff, shoot the poisoned needle and disappear. By the time the audience realised it, there would be a corpse on the stage (staged of course) and before they knew it, the show would have captured them in the plot.
The show was a runaway success. Rarely do people get everything so right. The troupe was elated and bonded many times over through the international tours for months together. They began with dating each other within the troupe and then a couple even married during one of their tours to Switzerland.

Slowly the troupe began to look more like a nomadic tribe. They developed their own unique jargons and slangs. A pecking order developed, the director was the tribe priest; everyone listened to him. The male protagonist of the play, was like the tribe chief and the female protagonist had become the troupes muse. The side actors were playing their part without any resistance, Just like it happens in a tribe.

The troupe took one day in the week off and went about completing their personal chores on that day. Usually a weekday, because they performed over the weekends.

Parag the male protagonist drove the troupe's rented car to the market place. Kamal had chosen to remain in the hotel. He parked the car on the street near a shopping complex. The ritual was always the same, Parag and the others would step out of the car and then talk to each other for a while, in clear view of the market, if people recognised them and came to take autographs, even better.

Parag's phone had been ringing as he drove, so he got down first and picked the phone. The troupe was still getting down from the car when Parag dropped dead. The cause of death was determined to be poison. No one had any idea what had happened. This was real. They stood there helpless. The police came and took over the proceedings. Every one said, this was like deja-vu.

Kamal was thoroughly investigated, but there was no evidence that she had played any part in the murder. You don't get finger prints on pins, She maintained that she had no part to play in the killing. She even had strong alibi.

The troupe disbanded after the mishap and the actors went back to their respective lives.

Since there were no evidences, the case of the killing of Parag was closed. Kamal kept mourning Parag's death for years. I wish I was beside him then this happened, I would take the blow on myself she said in press conferences.

 But what business did he have cheating on me? I was his wife and he was unfaithful. I did not have to do much. I had a perfect plan. I had inserted a pin on the hatch of his cellphone flip cover. If he tried to open the hatch, his thumb would come in contact with the poison. And he did fall for it. A play can be enacted in real life.... 

You Win Some and You Win Yet Again

I have Chiku all sorted out, as long as I catch her in the right time. Rana Pratap the famous Chittor King, had about the same sentiments about Akbar’s army, when he planned his guerrilla wars against Akbar’s platoons. Guerrilla wars are warlets, catch them in their weakest moment and vanquish them just for a while. I am one of them, the vanquisher of a moment.

Timing is extremely critical. Here is how:

“Chiku, why are your socks on the stairs? You left your shoes outside the shoe rack (one face down to the north and one face up to the south). Why is your school uniform strewn on the floor? Why haven’t you kept your school bag in your room yet?” The quintessential remonstrance of a mom, thrilled at the return of her kid from school. Some days these war cries are enthusiastic. Other days they are in-effective. On yet other days the warrior in me is stoic and submissive. But Chiku remains the apple of my eyes, regardless of who clears up the mess.

The joy of seeing her run in after school and hug Penny, our dog, and kiss her a hundred times. Even though we have warned her a thousand times, not to kiss the dog. Oh how she plays on the floor with the dog, lying flat, petting her and getting licked by her. Her two lanky ponies, unkempt and dangling, her face dark and sweaty from being in sun, her pinafore slipping off one shoulder; she is cuteness defined. I want to scoop her up and carry her around once again. But I have to settle for dragging her to my lap and planting a few kisses while she squirms, before she tears herself off and rushes off to her room.

Though her room appears to be a perennial battle field, her belongings engaged in constant Armageddon on her desk, on the floor and over the bed. But that is just a disguise. In truth this is her sanctum sanctorum, her favourite place in the world. Chiku is at home only once she enters this room. 

And soon the afternoon rituals begin.

“I want the iPad!” Chiku explodes.

“No iPad today!” I counter explode.

“Just Half an hour.” Chiku entreats.

“No,” I retort sharply.

“Please!” she pleads.

“No,” Sharper now yet I am melting inside.

“Okay then your phone.” She changes track, to my relief.

“I am using it!” I respond flatly.

“Please!” Chiku entreats yet again.

“No,” I howl, between whatever it is, she is disturbing. “Don’t snatch it from meeeee,”

“Please, please, please!” She plays her trump card, the cute begging look and all.

“No.” I harp and go back to work.

“I don’t want rice and dal today,” She is now at the table and making annoyed protests.

“But you did not have it yesterday either,” I reason.

“No,” She declares with the build-up for a skirmishy cry. “How about rice and curd and jiggery?” She suggests in between the pitter-patter of sniffs.

“No! You can’t have sweet stuff now,” I counter.

“Uuuuunnnnn,” whining aimlessly, fretting and not listening.

Not that whining again. I am quite melted already with all that No, No and No of the afternoon. “Okay have your way, but only today.” I finally surrender.

A bright smile is followed by a, “thank you.” Chiku effortlessly morphs into her cute avatar. Till the next demand, disagreement or discomfort or whatever triggers the next tantrum.

I was caught unawares. When I undertook this journey as a mother no one told me much. No one suggested to exercise my vocal cord to become a mother, Lamaze is all they ever talked about: puff, puff, puff, take deep breaths and push the head out! And then what that head does after emerging was kept a secret! No one suggested regular yoga and meditation to hold peace through the battlefield of mothering, oh no. No one told me you had to be good negotiator to be a mom. No one told me you had to be a social scientist to be a cool mom. No one told me to be a warrior to become an effective mom. I just discovered these things on my own! And I dare say I am barely managing.

Oh how I'd love to leave my daughter alone to live as she pleases! But she is a kid and this is not how it works. If kids were left alone to deal with life, this is how they would live probably- Wake up play, play some more, don't eat, play, play, play and play and then don’t sleep just play. At least this is what mothers think their respective kids would do, myself included. Though the kids have surprised us often, but surprises are called so because they are scarce.

In the ten years that I have been a mother, I think I have chosen my battles well. I have made the choice to speak or not to speak, to whack or not to whack, to punish or not to punish, to protect or to let her fight her fights, to reprimand or to ignore her faults, to lie or not to lie to her. And I have been quite content with the outcome.

And truly, the war is not over, it is never over. Later in the evening, no lessons learned from the afternoon, I begin all over again:

“Chiku have your dinner,” I insist, “it is getting late.”

No answer.

“Chiku quick I am losing my temper.” I fume.

“But I will finish what I am doing before I go.” Chiku finally answers nonchalantly.

I try the tough tone repeating myself all over again.

Nothing! Just silent denial.

“Chiku I am really happy you are doing this interesting thing,” I change tracks, “but food needs to be eaten on time.”

Bingo! I have her attention. Or so it appears. But I can’t hide the whole truth from the readers. Sorry no, there is no real victory in parenting! Chiku still completes her work before she eats.

She seems to know exactly how I can win the war without really winning any of the battles. She just displayed her grit, determination, focus and fearless pursuit of her goal, all over again. Didn't I truly wish for that! 

You win some and you lose some. But in the parent kid battle you win even when you lose. Keeping up the fight is more important than winning the fights! Hush listen carefully! Did I hear the great Rana Pratap, the great proponent of Guerrilla warfare, cheer for me?

No Regrets

A sapling had just pushed out of the ground. It takes enormous effort to push through the earth. It is the same effort as it takes a chicken to hatch from the egg. It takes all of that effort, but if truth be told it is one effort that I willingly made, to push through the earth and to see the world above. I stood there at awe. 

Not that I had not seen it before. I came from the same soil, the same earth, but this was a new life and new lives are exciting. I looked around, I was mostly alone in a barren piece of land. I was what they call a weed, but I did not know that. The terrain was rocky and crumbly and tilting to one side. Stones just rolled freely down the slope now and then. Some would hit me and change it's course. Others just  stayed back within my little branches. Some were big enough to hurt me and if I was lucky enough, none would be big enough to injure me fatally, till I grew old enough to not be bothered by them. 

The other weeds near me were just as content as I was. After all there was hardly anything for us other than warning each other of a possible threat, through our root system, bask in sun and enjoy the view, whatever it be. The choice to enjoy or complain was ours, the view was offered to us. One night it rained heavily, all my branches twisted and broke. I was left with one tiny leaf on my side. I was sure I would die, how would a plant my size breathe and eat with just one leaf? But I pulled off. I saw that whole season. Since it kept raining, the leaves had no problem shooting out and pulling me up. But we plants don't fear dying. We only avoid it. We avoid it when we can. But we don't mourn death. It is how we are made. 

Soon I discovered I would not really have flowers. I was a barren plant, I was disappointed, but not sad. I would have loved to have flowers, but it did not matter to me to not have any, I was there that is all. 

Once a man came trudging up the slope. A heavy bag on his back; listless, restless like the stones which roll down the slope. He just kept walking up, up and up, as if he had a purpose. We weeds were really inspired by him. He was so sure, so certain of what he wanted. He was not exactly going like the stones, nothing would change his course. We saw him falling, hurting, tired and hungry, but he did not stray from his chosen path. In plant kingdom, we live care free, not for a purpose but just because it is a gift to live with. This was new for us, so the plants right from the foot of the slope, were relaying news about him. 

Weeds up the slope were eagerly awaiting to see the saint. He appeared to be a saint to us. He came and sat right next to me on a rock. One of those which kept rolling down the slope. He sat on it to rest. But at that moment there was a mild tremor and the rock moved. It was big enough to disempower the saint. The rock rolled and dropped the saint down the slope. It then rolled over me and killed most of me and then kept rolling and fell on the saint. The rock became red. 

We waited for one or two of the saint's leaves to come out to save him. But he remained silent. We waited for his roots to ask for help, so we could send nutrition, but he remained silent. No one came for him. He remained under the rock and decayed. That is when we learned that, this man had no-one and he was going nowhere. We understood he was not a saint, he was in search of something he did not have.

I pulled out of the rock injuries. The next summer however brought dryness which I could not take and I dried up, I died. I was with my family and I was never going anywhere or seeking anything. So my death completed a cycle I had come to live. I happily left the world. 

Do what you wish for! #FireUpYourPassion lady #AmWriting

I stand at the edge of the metro platform, reading the warning down on the track, '750 volts, keep away'. I imagine myself standing on top of the track, hair standing, eyes popping, blackened face, steam blowing out the ears. Nah, I say, not a good idea.

I look at the speed limit on the hilly road, 30 KM Per Hour, I imagine stamping on the pedal and wrrrroom! Hopping right into the valley, many 1000 feet down, stuck in a tree branch, a perfect cinemascope moment. I wonder if the branches are placed appropriately down there, Tch! Tch! I say, not a good idea.

Peeping into the lion's cage in the zoo, I want to jump right in, to run my fingers through its mane. I picture myself fighting the offended lion, with my bare hands and I say, not a good idea. A little further in the zoo, I imagine my hand inside the crocodile's mouth or getting bitten by the vicious viper and I most certainly and emphatically say, not a good idea.

I stand near the door of the aircraft flying at 30,000 Ft, sipping mineral water in a paper cup. I stand right next to the liver which invites: 'Lift up to open'. I tell myself, enough now go back to the seat and I comply. But my mind does not know when to stop. So I just let it fantasize. But I know when it’s not a good idea.

And then I wonder why! Why does the mind play with me wickedly? I am all blood and mangle at the end of its adventures, at-least in my thought. And an answer pops! No wonder it does! I say NO so often. What if I did something I really wanted to? What if I did something really dangerous, exhilarating and adventurous? Like planning a holiday alone? No. Writing a book? No. Eating out all by myself at a fine dine restaurant? No. Cooking a special meal for myself? No. Laughing out loud for no reason at all? No. Singing on the streets? No. Going bungee jumping, para gliding or sky diving? No. Fighting my greatest fears like the fear of cockroaches and lizards? No. What if I did all this, would my mind still play the gruesome games? They say idle mind is the devils workshop or playground or outhouse or palace or whatever. I am the devil when it comes to myself!

"Think about the risks of doing the doable," says the mind craftily. "Better not conjure these fantasies," it says. "Let me show you how to work around it," it offers. Voila! The gruesome pictures emerge in our minds. The headline on the local daily pops up, 'Girl dies doing what she wished for!' And then it is safe not to attempt those absurdities, ever!

We are like the patty in our favourite burger. It’s awesome, the patty I mean. It has a possibility of its own, even without the bun on its both sides. It is just too shy to come by itself, so it hides between the sliced up bun. The bun, which by the way tastes flat, dry and unsavoury by itself! Yet the patty thinks it is the bread which sells the awesome burger! Huh! And double Huh! And you know what I do? I buy the patty with no bun!

An acquaintance screamed at me the other day, I am very scared of dogs! And I wondered why. I am scared of people more. Hopeless me! I often meet these Martian kinds, who think they are entitled to fear of the endangered. For, which specie is not endangered in the hands of '(WO)-MAN'?

Okay so let’s do this exercise, think of your smart phone, that lovely devise with captivating screen, google, facebook, whatsapp and all. Now think of a flood and the smart phone gone! Who are you now? Tuche! Touche! I hope you know what to do, now that the fishes swim in your home, where you hid from the deadly dogs, lizards, bugs, flies and more. What now?

There is no fear which is not feared by all. Yet some rise over it. Do this and that and do whatever you like. Just remember every fear is worth standing up to. For in flood, in rain, in earthquake, fire or hurricane, you are no more or less than you are now. Go out and do what you wish for, so what if you think you can't. 

The Joker

Face painted white with large red circles on the cheeks, a thick red outline to the mouth. one eye painted with a red circle and the other with black, a long Santa clause hat on the head, the joker looked perfect for the act. "I got black eye'" he said, pointing to the black circle around his eye. "And I painted the wrong eye red!" Crowd giggling at his jokes.

"You know what is a joker without dress sense? ...A stand up comedian." The crowd clapped at this one with loud guffaws. "Truth be told the jokers are out of business. These are days of standup comedians. They and their double meaning jokes. Look at me, I am a joker and even if I don't speak you will laugh at me..." He just stood there looking from side to side, acting serious and the crowd roared with laughter. "You laugh at me because you know I am here to make you laugh and not to make people laugh at your expense." The clapping of the crowd showed that the crowd was in agreement with this funny man.

"Did you know I used to be a stand up comedian, the last guy I made fun of, is still running behind me with a dagger. But now he can't find me. I am safe behind the painted face!" Another applause.

"And I don't need to sound at all intellectual to make you laugh! Whatever I do is funny, look at me," he waved his hand towards the crowd, his frilly red gloves, many sizes bigger than his hand, kids roared with laughter. "Just look at me. Get a standup comedian to stand next to me. Who would make you laugh more?"

Now there was silence and from somewhere behind a thin wiry man came hopping over the feet of spectators and stumbling on the auditorium stairs and up on to the stage. "I am a stand-up comedian." Said the wiry man. "Well you will find it hard to stand, but anyway come stand next to me." Said the Joker. And there they were, a joker in all his trappings and the thin wiry man in a t-shirt and Jeans. The past meeting the present. "Who do you want to laugh at? The crowd was doubling up with laughter."

"Hey joker, called out the wiry man," joining in his act, "what have you against me?"

"I don't. look at me, I am healthy well fed, he said pointing to his fat belly," part of his joker costume, "and you are the one emaciated for food. Here I will offer you my jacket and you will become well fed too." He began taking off the jacket with the potbelly.

"You are fat," said the wiry man.

"Says who? The man who did not eat for years?" Retorted the joker

"No the man whose food you have been eating all these years," said the wiry man.

Now the joker was feeling the pinch. The wiry man was getting the trick and was getting at him.

"Okay man, here I found your long lost brother please hug him. He offered a wire to the man." The wiry man took it and hugged it and began crying, continuing the act. While spectators laughed on.

The crowd's roaring laughter suggested that the situation was getting precarious for the joker.

"You and your brother can take your seats," he announced. "Just make sure not to leave any lose ends on the stage." And he had the crowd back clapping for him. The wiry man was back in his seat. Social distancing is the best way to avoid this catch 22 situation in the future, thought the joker to himself. What a lesson!

You Win

"I win, I win. I am going to win for sure." Rhea jumped up and down on the sofa.

Ila didn't bat her eyelid before saying, "whats is all this fuss about winning or losing Rhea, I thought we were having fun,"

But Rhea had geared up for defence. "Oh well, that is what they say when they are losing, loser...loserrrr!"

This was how Rhea and Ila fought, played, laughed, joked and fought again, got tired and slept. Rhea had no other friends to play with, so her mother had to be her friend. Ila had no other adult to talk to so her daughter had to be her confidant. They were not far from civilisation... they were not even far from the next door neighbour. They were in an apartment complex, living the social distancing, locked up within the four walls of their own flat.

The streets empty and desolate. the virus invisible but rampant. Was the world coming apart? Ila was jerked out of her revere when Rhea came running with her latest art work. Rhea loved to draw. At 8 she was bubbling with energy all day which Ila had hard time channelising. Her artwork time was the relaxation time for Ila.

Chill ran through Ila's spine, as she looked at this new art work from Rhea. One girl, just her back in a city, with tall buildings and parks and shut down shops and dogs and cats. Just one girl in the entire city, faceless, alone and lonely, walking aimlessly. She ran to Rheas room to check her earlier drawings, one tree in a desolate land, one sapling on a white sheet of paper, one pencil, one leaf... Rhea was taking this lockdown into her psyche. She was creating a lonely girl in all her drawings.

Tears ran down her cheeks as Ila hugged Rhea, "It is not going to be always like this Rhea. You will play with your friends again soon." Ila was not sure she was consoling Rhea or herself.

"Mamma why are you crying? I am scared." Rhea's little form trembled within Ila's arms. She just held her, comforting her, as Rhea began wriggling out of her arms.

"Catch me if you can." Rhea squealed and ran. Back to being the child that she was.

"You win Rhea." Ila said, running towards her little girl to catch her and tickle her up in loads.

The Red dosa batter

The dosas were crisp, they were hot and steaming. Awesome. The batter just the right consistency. Did you use the wild brown rice? Babita exclaimed excitedly. The batter had that brownish red tinge to it. "Ya...." said Seema sounding bored and non committal. The fact is she was glad the bandage was not visible. Last night was awful. She didn't use knife to stir the batter usually, it was just a mistake, she was working on the batter when he came in and attacked her. the first blow on her wrist, slashed it a little but missed her veins... This was her kitchen, she knew where the knives were kept. She plunged her knife into his gut several times and then got back to the dosa batter, and that is when by mistake some of the red on the knife dripped in the batter.

She still had a task at hand. If Babita had not barged into her house so early in the morning she would have been out in the wilderness, trying to dump the assailants limp corpse. She had been too busy last night to drop it off. No one disturbed her when she was cooking. She had dumped the body in the car's boot and gone back to doing what she was doing.

This was an old bungalow. In the midst of a large piece of land. An orchard at the back and a huge lawn in the front. Seema first debated burying the corpse in the orchard. But she did not want her fruits to be sullied by the assailant's bodily remains. She felt it was negative Feng-Shui.

She decided that the mushy forest near her home was more apt for the task.

Babita dropped a bomb at Seema when she least expected. "I need to borrow your car Seema. It is urgent, I have an interview, I cannot miss it and my car has conked."

"NO," Seema screamed inadvertently. "No you can't take my car, it has a break problem. You might get into trouble." Seema saved the situation barely.

"Okay Seema. I am leaving." Said Babita, quite abruptly, without putting up a fight. That was surprising, but Seema did not want to rake it up and again have her asking for the car!

She did not notice Babita stealthily picking up the car key on her way out. She heard it when it was too late. The car was leaving the driveway.

She picked up the phone, "Hello Police, I want to report the theft of my car... Some time last evening...yes please note licence plate number is KA...."

She did not know it would be so easy!

Killing Time!

The odds were all against her. Sangeeta was holding the revolver in her hand. She did not have license to it. They had trained her on how to use it. The deal was simple. She would kill. And if she got away with it good for her. If she did not, bad for her. But if she did not do it at all! too bad for her. Because they were holding her hostage.

Did you hear it right? She was being held hostage and she was the one with the gun! Well it did not add up, did it? That was the trick in this game too. If it did not make sense no one would get to the bottom of it.

In politics it happens everyday. And they always get away with it. Everyone needs proof of allegiance and this meant making yourself vulnerable. And in politics they say this is the most reliable way to make yourself vulnerable. Commit a crime and don't get caught. That clue goes in the file of the party high command and stays there. In that moment you became eligible to grow in the ranks. Simple, isn't it? There is no allegiance bigger than the allegiance of crime! She was told that it was for a good cause. All her dreams to serve her country were held hostage. "What is one crime?" She reasoned "One teeny-weeny crime, as long as you get away." This was not a siege, they explained, pushing towards her, pictures of the Parliament Bomb Blast and 26/11 siege; these are unpardonable. Killing someone.!.. that depended who you killed! Simple.

"Why the revolver?" She queried. "Why not the poison. Or maybe suffocating the target to death. How about gassing the target."

"No, No and No," they said, their hollow laughter sending a chill into her. It was important that the high command had evidence, strong enough to hold her accountable. Usually some smart alecks get away with the crime and leave no evidence, this creates a passe, they can neither deny the person nor offer a decent post in the party. "It is now a policy," they explained... "for the candidate to have an unlicensed gun. Even if you do not leave enough evidence at least the party will have something on you. If nothing we can ruin your career!"

She could feel the sweat building up on her temple. Her palms getting sweaty as she rubbed them on her jacket. She had worn one with an inside pocket. This was suggested to her so she could carry a small revolver without being noticed.

She had driven alone for the meeting, just to be extra careful. Her driver a Middle aged fatherly man, often her confidante, asked too many questions. She liked it because ever since she joined politics, she had spent weeks at a stretch cooped up in her car for long hours, traveling constituency to constituency, helping candidates campaign. It helped to have someone to talk to, generally.

She now needed a target. Her life had always been about success and now that she was so close to being offered some serious action in the party, she would not let it go for one meaningless life, she reasoned. Not everyone in this planet has the same right to live. For example her school teacher! The one who sexually abused the teens to give them the question papers! And that warden of the orphanage where she grew up... He had no business beating them up like animals for smallest of mistakes. That was the time she had decided to do something for people. She still remembered that she chose to fail rather than be abused sexually. That was the day she understood that she had a higher calling.

But here was the challenge. "You cannot kill someone with whom you have known enmity." There goes her school teacher and the warden. "You cannot kill a stranger, very difficult to prove if needed..." There goes millions of people who can very well be let go of, because she just didn't know them and therefore didn't worry whether they lived or died. "You have to kill someone you know and are in reasonably good terms with." So that it is not easy for police to prove your involvement but it will be easy to prove if needed. "And lastly you cannot kill a family member... blood is thicker than water, we have seen members lose their composure after killing their family."

Did they have a written manual or they had just memorised it all, Sangeeta wondered. Now with the revolver in her possession, she was informed that someone would be following her, She would never know who but her every action would be watched. "We have party members even amongst the beggars," they warned. "So don't try to dodge, and certainly don't outsource. We will know. And in that case we may take drastic measures"

She knew only a handful of people who she was close to. She had no family and she did not have many close friends. She did have many friends, but they were mostly transactional, nothing personal. She had a spotless life till then. Likeable, reliable and goal oriented. That was the reason she had come to the notice of the party high command.

She had no idea where she would find her victim. She made a mental list of people she could target. Her house help, her driver, her boy friend... boyfriend would become ugly. Her business associate? Too obvious. And then she remembered... her driver was into gambling. Every week he needed advance of some kind to go and gamble. His weakness. He was a perfect target. But he was also her true confidante.

She decided she will not to waste time thinking. She would just get done with it. Consider him a soldier. The nation needs me and I need him to lose his life for the nation.

She planned it meticulously. She would give him a leave for a week, maybe make a trip to someplace.  She would get a rundown car from some garage in the other town. Drive back in the car to the town, kill, and drive back to the resort. The police would call her, once they discovered about the death. The plan was so simple and fool proof that she was literally convinced she would get away with it.

And so she did, a one week trip to a nearby resort. Taking a brake before the upcoming elections. She found the car in the village in a garage. The guy practically gave it to her for free. He said, "The engine is perfect, but drive it very very slow." The body may have been in the junkyard rusting for centuries.

It was the slowest 100 km drive back to her city. She was happy the drive was slow, because she wanted the time to unravel. Kamal's house it was a little too silent. She peeped from a window. He was sitting on the bed, hands held up, to her disbelief!

She had thought, he did not know she was even in the town. For him to wait hands-up was a little too much to grapple. Just then she noticed the other man, his back was facing the window. He was pointing a gun at Kamal. She had the aim at the man. Now she wondered who to shoot? Kamal? or the Assailant? As she tried to solve this abnormal puzzle she heard a gunshot. The driver was still on the bed, sitting straight, he had not been shot, it was only a threatening shot. And then the roof crumbled. The house fell like a sand castle, not repaired for long, the vibration of the gunshot and the bullet hitting the ceiling did the job. In the scuffle, she realised she had hit a bullet too. She had no time to find out who she hit. She ran to her car, it was easy because everyone was rushing to the scene of disturbance, they did not know it was also a scene of crime.

She jumped on to the driver's seat, but it was great to have a slow onward journey, but she needed a faster locomotive now. She dumped the car in a garbage yard, walked to the nearest bus stop and boarded one to get back. Covering her head with her scarf so she would not be recognised. She reached back to the resort, only to be told that there were several calls for her. She had switched off her mobile to avoid being tracked. She realised she had no alibi. If anything, there were enough evidence to prove she was nowhere close to the resort when the incident took place. A whole busload of people. And then she got the worst shock of her life. She had stashed the revolver in the glove compartment of her rundown car. With her fingerprints all over it. She did not ask who had called. She dialled back the number that was left by the caller. The person at the other end said, Madam, Kamal, your driver, has passed away.

She did not know why the person sounded familiar. She chose to ignore that. She guessed maybe all men in Kamal's neighbourhood sounded the same. She booked a coach to get back home, to mourn Kamal's death. And lo and behold, her ramshackle car stood right at the porch. She only barely managed to get into the house when a heavily bearded man came out to greet her. He took her suitcase and motioned her in. Once in the drawing room, Kamal said, Madam, I hope you will understand why I am faking my death... I am in debt. The other day a man came to kill me and got crushed under my roof by accident. I managed to run out of the place. And then by chance I found this car in a junk yard and a revolver too. I took it and left the place. I am going back to the village. It has been great working for you madam, but the time has come for me to go... there is only one thing left to do... Kamal picked up the gun and Sangeeta lost a beat.

Kamal said, "Madam, I don't know what to do with this revolver. I don't want to be caught with it. Please keep it and give it to the police. Make up some story and just get rid of it."

Holding the revolver, Sangeeta aimed it towards Kamal as he walked out of the house... She wondered if this constituted qualification for some action in the party. 

Parent of Teens Can Be Really Unreliable!

"I am not here to tell you what you are doing is wrong or right. I just want to tell you that you be aware of what you are doing." Dad said to Anuj. He had been hiding in his bathroom for long and dad knew why! Wonder who else knows!

Anuj often hid himself in the bathroom. That was the only place in the world where he was alone. All other places in the house seemed to have spies following in his track. He hated to admit it, but there he was day after day, sitting in the bathroom. Sometimes flipping through erotic magazines, sometimes masturbating and sometimes just reading a good novel, once he even did his math homework in the bathroom.

Dad may have been firm but he also sounded understanding! Next time when he went to the bathroom he checked the whole place for hidden cameras. You cannot trust the parent of teens, they can be really unreliable, Anuj thought.

No... no cameras. Satisfied that he was alone in the bathroom he relaxed. His parents had changed of late. They did not treat him the way they did before! Anuj missed their love and blind trust, which was always bestowed on him. What had changed now? Why were they acting weird of late? What did they fear?

He was no more a kid and he had hoped that this should go in his favour and make his parents to trust him even more. But for the first time in his life, he felt like a stranger in his own home. He either would be away at a friend's place, where there were other sets of eyes keeping watch on them... his friend and him. He felt suffocated... in school his teachers had changed their attitude towards the class. Suspicion seemed to be written on their faces. If students kept a promise,  the teachers acted as if they got lucky for once and if the students acted irresponsibly, the adults made it known that this is just what was expected and that they were right in doubting them.

Life in short sucked. Adults can be really complicated. Specially parents. You never know when they will change tracks. It seemed to Anuj that his parents had shifted allegiance. And now they were in conspiracy against him and his contemporaries, with all other parents and teachers.

Anuj was back in the bathroom. He just sat on the commode, not wanting to come out. Life as he knew it was falling apart. But the shining tiles of the bathroom somehow made him feel a little comfortable.

And then there was a knock at the door, not the main door, the bathroom door. Anuj gathered himself up and decided to come out. He had been there for way too long. Dad was right outside, something just gripped him and he hugged his dad and said, I love you dad!

And it seemed that day Anuj became a real adult. Home began to look like home again, was this all that was needed? Anuj wondered!

Family Tree

I had it right there, pasted on the wall, the family tree. All people, just people, like all other people in the world, what is the big deal about this family tree? They are long gone and mostly forgotten. What is the significance of them? I had the family tree there on the wall, just to help me find these answers. I was not sure how they mattered. Those people were responsible for bringing me in my present form... or were they? If my great-great-great-grand parents never married, wouldn't I have a shot at being born?

And then I came back to the same question. Did all this really matter? And there were blank spots in my family tree. Some forgotten uncle or aunt. They must have been in the crime or maybe they killed themselves over lost love, or they just ran away too tired of the family tree. And now they were free of the family, because no one counted them in the family! how did that add up?

If those uncles and aunts who are excluded from the family tree, had kids, were they also aware of their family tree? And how would I relate to them? Were they also important to me? I did not know for sure. But every morning, evening and night, the family tree stared back at me mockingly and teased me.

It is the blank spots that mattered the most. If they are so important and if they are my family, don't they also impact me? Or is it that by rubbing their names off from the family tree, their impact on the future generations was wiped out. Then there is a point in wiping their names and memories out. I realised I was looking forward to be forgotten rather than being the cause of someone else's misery many hundred years later, many generations down the line. And then there was a wicked thrill in knowing that I could influence posterity. Not everyone with this wisdom is capable of doing great things to make their future generations proud of them, most of them suffice with the wicked thrill of ruining unknown lives by living irresponsibly, it gives them a kick.

I was one of those less gifted kind. It had to be one way or the there for me, forgotten or uglifyingt the family tree. So I decided I would not waste my time trying to remain in the family tree. Who cares for it anyway. Once I was gone would I really care?

And yet every-time I looked at the family tree, I knew I was on to something. The other day I saw a fly sitting on the family tree and I swatted it right there, and now it is part of my family tree too. That was a moment of epiphany. I reasoned that, if rubbing off names from the tree took care of the bad deeds of those disagreeable family members, adding names just randomly, would make some other more agreeable people related to my family, just the same. Because who really goes back to check the lineage.

And so this is what I did, I painted up some of the less likeable names from the tree and put in likeable ones there, making sure of conforming to the era of the persons life. Not that even that mattered, but I wanted to be meticulous in this game. And so my grandpa's brother was replaced with Rock Hudson. My grandma got a distant cousin named Audrey Hepburn. My dad became distantly related to Amitabh Bachchan and I got Keanu Reaves as my far removed cousin. At the end of the exercise, I began to fantasize putting Einstein and Subhash Chandra Bose also in the lineage. And also why leave Sachin Tendulkar and of course Marie Curie? But at the moment I was glad I had implemented my idea into three generations of my family and I felt much happier now. I just removed the fly from there. It was bothering me to see it next to Audrey.

Now every time I look at the family tree I look at it with a smile. Family is one that brings a smile on your face. And this one really really does!

Love, Trust and Other Luxuries

"You sure don't believe in love or trust?" Rhea's mom was sounding just a little on the edge.

"Well those things are luxury Naina, don't waste time in believing unreliable fantasies!" Rhea's dad said flippantly. She wondered what had made her parents to have this dated conversation so early on a beautiful Sunday morning.

"I can prove it to you," said Naina, argumentatively, "I married you because I loved you and I trusted you."

"And I was not a great catch? Haven't you seen my degrees? I was studying in the IIM when we first met." Anil countered, making a blunder he regretted immediately.

"And I? Was I doing home science? I was in IIM too. So you thought I was a good catch? Or you thought I joined the IIM to just find a good catch? Don't start your naive chauvinistic argument Amit, I know you find it hard to lose. But you are wrong today. There is love and there is trust and it is real. And please don't annoy me ever again with that 'Good catch' line. It is so typical and empty, you can't even convince yourself with it." Naina went on a tirade. She knew she was winning this argument and she wanted to clinch it and end it both at the same time.

Amit silently walked away. Rhea wondered what just happened. What was all this argument about and why did it end so abruptly? Rhea knew her parents picked up odd topics to argue over and fought each other like high school debaters, using lame examples to win the argument. It was rather cute. But usually it was about economy, politics or science. They were always in agreement over emotional subjects. They were both practical and diplomatic.

But today was different... What had changed since she slept last night? Had some meteorite stuck the neighbours and spared her home, she peeped out of the windows to check, but they were all where they were last night. Were they filing for divorce? No, that one she would know. Did they fight last night? Was one of them being unfaithful? No no no. Rhea knew her parents to be far more sensible.

A little later, Rhea's dad found her in her room. "Hey kid can I talk to you?" Of course he could, parents didn't need permission from their kids to speak to them. He was supposed to just knock her on her head gently, as he always did, and say what he had to say. Not ask for permission.

"Well, you see, I cannot understand why you would need me to meet this new friend of your's whats his name?" Rhea noticed a faint stammer in his voice.She ignored it.

"Ankit, for the nth time dad!" Rhea became irritated. She wondered why it was so important for her that her dad should remember Ankit's name! "what's up with you dad? You don't forget names! And why would you wonder about why I want him to meet you? I bring all my friends home! he is my friend too!" Rhea ended defiantly.

"This is different, I am not sure about it." Amit interjected! "I thought there were still a few years to go for this." He said a little hesitantly.

"Not again," Naina was standing at Rhea's door, hands on hips, "what is up with you Amit." Just let this be. Don't confuse Rhea.

Relieved at the timely intervention, Rhea shouted, "can you guys please excuse me, I have homework to do."

Amit reluctantly walked away, Naina walked in to hug and a kiss her daughter, way too big and warm a hug and way too gentle a kiss, and said, "remember what I have always said to you, love and trust are the most important things in life, just follow your heart and you will never regret your decisions."

Rhea turned to see her mother fade away from her room. All of a sudden she had grown up. She couldn't believe it, she had just had an adult conversation with her parents. It was a little awkward, but she could see that there was a large space created for her in her home that day, which she would learn to call her personal space. 

I Remained Silent

The birds chirped, louder and louder still. I could hear them but couldn't see them, I longed to go out of my cooped up room. The dogs barked and barked, I could hear them too. I longed to play with them. The street dogs were my favourite company, they bit when instigated, but they would not bite otherwise. I heard household sounds from my neighbour's, not just a distant muffled sound, but every word that they spoke. Not just one neighbour but a dozen of them. Our homes sharing just the thin walls which only barely separated us. 

In the night I could hear their yawns and moans and just quietly dosed off, without really noticing them. But today I heard them and I wanted to run away. They were just sounds for me till then, but today they were the only people I would see for days to come. I could not imagine myself seeing them face to face, I knew all their secrets and sorrows and fights and libidos, loud and clear, from within my house. 

I remained under my roof within the dingy room, They had never really seen me, I was always either going somewhere or coming back from somewhere. Once in a while a neighbour would stop me to talk, but it was so unbearable to talk to them like just a stranger, that I always avoided being caught with them in a tete-a-tete. What if I said something like... 'Oh well are you okay now I heard you crying last night', or 'oh so you are that woman who moans every night, where do you get the energy to do it daily?' Or 'well I did not know you were not home, I heard a woman in your house the whole week' or 'Oh which of those men who visit you is your husband?' It would be really embarrassing. I could not afford a home just as yet. A struggling actress, I was saving money on accommodation. Because after all, I spent all my time struggling in the high streets of Mumbai. And some days I did not even come back home. There were casting couches and small roles here and there. But I was going to make it big.

Today was different, my expensive perfumes and clothes all bundled and packed in suitcases under my bed, were to remain there for some time to come. This was COVID19 running it's havoc. Everyone had to be indoors. I envied people with real concrete walls and real roofs on their head. I had seen homes, comfortable cozy homes, One of them would be mine soon if my recent tryst with that big producer had worked out. I was not sure, I'd have found out this evening. But the evening never came, because we were all asked to remain herded in our homes and in my case in the coop where I lived. In my neighbourhood COVID19 was a real threat. Because the flimsy walls that some 300 of those shared, were all just a sham. Whether we liked it or not, we were one single family of over 2000, all stuffed into tiny tenements. And that is the reason most neighbours were really worried sick. We did not know who had spent the night with someone who just returned from China or USA or Europe. Even the resident themselves would not know. You don't go asking for visa stamping in the passports, when you have these trysts.  

And then I remembered, the producer had just returned from a shooting abroad, I checked my phone for news about him. He had it already. If he had it, I had it. 14 days is all I had left. And life came floating in front of me. I had run away from home never hoping to see them again. I was messed up and now I would die messed up. 

Every time I believed this would be the last casting couch. And then when I was cheated, I would decide to find a job, but then I wanted to be a star real bad, it was the only thing for me. And since I was so headstrong about it, I played by their rules. I remained silent and just went about my business. I did not care for anything else in the world. I did not have a friend or a boyfriend either. I did not mind cunningly taking over the role offered to my closest friend and I did not bother to get too close to any guy. Boyfriends try to take all your decision and I didn't want that. I was alive, but only I knew that. For everyone else I was dead. But one day, that big screen would give me the name and recognition. 

I locked myself up, instead of looking for medical help. I did not care much now. I got a mild cough first and then it worsened. I heard my neighbour talking one day, one of them said, "I think she has the virus. Wonder where she got it! She looks classy, this virus is killing the classy kind. She has only imported stuff, now she is dying of imported disease." The other person said, "don't try to help her, we may get it. leave her." But from then on, some days I heard a soft knock and when I opened the door, there would be food. I silently took it. Not thanking for the food was the best way to thank. The coughing kept getting worse and then I heard others in the tenement coughing too. And then I saw the first corpse from a little hole in my window where the glass had broken off. No one followed the corpse, just the family. Everyone shut their doors as the corpse passed. It was catching up. More than 2000 people cooped up and corona was there. I kept getting weaker and I kept coughing louder and now I was getting the knock at my door every day and sometimes twice a day.  

The stench was unbearable. I saw myself on the bed. I was not totally looking right. I heard the knock at the door and ran to pick the food, the beggar from the street was picking up the food already. He had his nose covered to avoid the stench. And then they came, the police and the ambulance, my body was decomposing. No one dared come near me. I would never know who put the food on my door, I knew no one and I was leaving nothing behind. My body was wrapped up in layers of clothes, my lovely clothes from under my bed, they decided to cremate me without waiting for my family, because I was heavily infected. They had no time to call my family. they said they would send my belongings to them when they found their address. They would never find them... 

"Remember, you are dead for us! we will never come looking for you!" were the last words I had heard from them. Before I left, I had mixed the poison in their tea, very small quantity. It would take effect only slowly,  no one would ever know. They loved their tea with the newspaper. Were they still sipping tea as they read the newspaper?

Dear Readers: I have tried a fiction without a moral this time, just like the stream that life is, and the stream does not have a moral or a meaning. Pardon me if it is not to your liking. Its just an artistic expression. Thanks for reading and leaving your comments.

How to deal with your habit to conform

My Journey is My Destination

It was the late seventies, I may have been six years of age, I learned the harshest reality of my life, the fact that I was a girl. I remember that day sitting with a piles of dirty dishes and washing them for hours. While my brother, though five years older to me, just bounced around with no care in the world.  That day I separated in many ways from my parents because I felt denied of their love, from my brother, because I felt cheated by him and from myself, because I was just a girl.

Deep within, unbeknownst to me, there was a fighter. And as house work kept piling on me over the next few years, and as my marks kept deteriorating in school, I promised to myself, that if this was going to be a fight, then fight I would. Not knowing the outcome of this innocent pledge, I embarked on a journey of endless fight backs against those who were supposed to protect and nurture me and sorrowful outcomes of those fights.

For those who take the challenge of life head long, life comes head on to them. And so it followed, fast forward to the early nineties, I noticed little girls being subjected to the same indignity growing up. I made another promise. A promise to help... And just like that, I had a purpose to my life.

I was in my most productive years. Life took over for a while, I got busy with building a career as a CA. But back in my mind, I was subconsciously constructing a plan for my chosen purpose, not aware of it myself at that time. As I battled through life's many quirks, I learned a few secrets. Here are three that are resounding:

Secret 1: Nothing in this life happens without reason. There is an outcome of every event.

Secret 2: Everything in this life can be taken positively, no matter how painful, unwelcome or heart wrenching it may be.

Secret 3: Across those painful moments there is new vigour for life awaiting for us. We just need to stay committed to get past all that pain.

Folks, to cut the long story short, I found myself supporting my friends to dream new dreams and to be fiercely independent. The path that I had chosen was slowly getting paved and readied for me to take that big leap towards my dream.

Does my story ring a bell? Does it resonate with you? I would love to hear from you. Please message me privately so we can connect.