The Short Stories.#55WordStories

Posted: July 28, 2012 in The Work

Vacation
In an excitement he rushed out of the examination hall like every year
to celebrate his summer freedom, forgetting how this excitement had
orphaned him last summer.
Void
Eyes still closed, he wished she was gone. Love they made the night before was
still hurting his soul. Total strangers lost in lust and impulsiveness. As he
opened his eyes, he realized her absence and the void.
Sanctuary
She knew they would leave her there, amongst many her age, until she was no more.
They told her it was for her own good, to be taken care of and to be safe when they
are away. Uncertain she felt for this new home that seemed like a sanctuary. Protected
yet not her home.
Silence
Silence was echoing in the darkness, anxious for they knew it was bound to happen. Nothing
but his touch broke the silence, love was made. No words were uttered but sounds of passion
filled the darkness. Legs wrapped around, lips against skin and they sighed together. Tired
and once again they found themselves in silence.
Train
Watching this child sitting across her in this slow moving Train, she felt nostalgic. Her
life was spent studying, understanding and helping them grow. The mother smiled and said
“He cannot hear, he is deaf” and with a smile she replied “I understood. I am a teacher
for specially gifted children and I Train them”
Stories
She was in love with his words ~ She pursued him for his anonymity ~ He kept away for his own reasons
~She was determined ~ Love happened ~ He unlike his stories turned out to be shy and silent ~
She felt betrayed and she questioned him~ He smiled and answered “They were stories”

Thanks to Vivek and his #55WordStories

Like most mornings in my life, since I moved to Kerala, I decided to get myself something to eat. Feeling like a woman and not wanting to cook, I left home and walked into this small restaurant right across my work place and ordered for a Masala Dosa. The generous restaurant, if I can call it so, decided to place a complimentary Vada along with the Masala ‘Dull’ Dosa.

Now out of curiosity I asked the waiter, who threw the plate with the Masala Dosa and Vada on my table (hospitality is rare in Kerala), about this complimentary Vada. I asked “Boss, I just ordered for a Masala Dosa” and pointed at the Vada. He grinned and winked at me and said “Have it brother, it is delicious.” Now that did the trick, coz delicious food with a review from a guy who has first hand experience is a must try. Also, the smile and wink suggested that this complimentary Vada was a part of the so called hospitality.

Now as I sat there digging my finger into the complimentary Vada and often taking a chunk off from the Masala Dosa, I felt as if the Vada was grinning at me just like guy who served it to me. I know I have a stupid imagination. As I sat there I decided to have a cup of coffee, I called the waiter and just then a guy walked in, occupied the chair opposite to me, looked into my plate and ordered Masala Dosa. I smiled at this new table buddy and ordered my coffee. The waiter brought the Masala Dosa along with “The Complimentary Vada” and my coffee arrived in a steel glass which was placed in a flat small steel bowl which was again in a stained saucer. The breakfast table buddy was munching onto his breakfast and he seemed in a hurry, I assumed that Monday was the reason for me eating slowly and him hurrying up. He quickly finished his Masala Dosa along with the Complimentary Dosa and waved at the waiter for the bill as he rushed to wash his sambhar dipped hand at the wash basin. I smiled at him as he walked away from the table collecting his bag and he ignored my smile as if I didn’t exist at the table. I ignored the way he ignored me and looked back at the grinning Vada, suddenly I heard a ruckus taking place at the bill counter.

My Breakfast table buddy was pointing at the long wooden menu hung on the wall and he said “I ordered for a Masala Dosa and the menu says it is 35 rupees, you can’t charge me 42 rupees” The guy at the counter with the same Vada/ Waiter grin said “You also ate the Vada, which will cost you 7 rupees.” The Complimentary Vada, my idea of hospitality had suddenly become a complicated subject of argument. My Breakfast Table buddy slammed his hand on the counter and shouted “I never ordered for it and you served it, I thought it was free.” The guy at the counter frowned and said “If you didn’t want the Vada, you could have told the waiter and he would have taken that back.” I looked at the waiter who looked at me and walked into the kitchen. Seconds later another guy walked out of the kitchen, walked upto me to ask if I wanted anything else. The ruckus at the counter mellowed down and the Breakfast buddy left after paying. I asked for the bill and pretty much knew that the Complimentary Vada wasn’t complimentary anymore.

The Vada tasted better than the Masala Dosa but I realized that nothing comes for free, atleast not the Complimentary Vada.

Mein hoon Manmohan and I am your fake Prime MInister.
I lead some scamming ministers, iraadey unkey sinister.
Sanaatta hain mere bheetar, aur muchi hulchul charo aur.
Someday I will talk, I do hope, but then I am puppet and tied to the rope.
Coz I am a nadaan gudiya aur nachchaaye mujhe ye firangi bhudiyaa.


Scam Scandals aur Anna ne macha rakha hain mere naak mein dum,
I am suffering all this for that Rahul, who is nothing but a scum.
Been called a lame duck, man of few words and even a puppet at work.
Though they aren’t just accusations but I take them with a smirk.
Coz I am a nadaan gudiya aur nachchaaye mujhko ye  firangi bhudiyaa.


Economics happened, so did wife and three kids. Also Sonia.
I thought my career was fine and someday India would shine.
But then Raja and co. gave me some scandals for opposition to whine.
Just like Anna even I have a clean Past but that loser can very well sit and fast.
All this and more.. just because .. well just because
I am a nadaan gudiya aur nachchaaye mujhko ye  firangi bhudiyaa.

And the Journey…

Posted: September 20, 2011 in The Thoughts
Tags: , , ,

Parvathi, as she introduced herself to me, must have been in her early 70’s. Her wrinkles defining her age more than her voice or spirit, she was cheerful and too relaxed for her age. I was wondering and waiting for a hot woman to occupy the vacant seat next to mine and that is when she walked in. The sorrow of having to spend the next 4 hours with a woman who has been on this earth, too many in numbers,  thrice your age in years must have been evident on my face coz she asked me “Are you expecting someone else, my child?”. I was ashamed and smiled with a nodding head in negative and uncertainty across my face. I pulled myself up from my relaxed posture and helped her with her seat and when I was done with her bags; she put her hands on my head and like most of the Indian grandmothers wished for my wellbeing. I smiled and more because I enjoy every bit of affection I get from strangers, typical of being me.

She pulled out ginger candy and offered some to me, I wasn’t sure but I took couple of them from her small, unsteady and wrinkled palm. She informed me that they were home made and appreciated her daughter in law for being kind to her, I smiled again.

She “So you don’t listen to music like most youngsters these days”

Me “Yes, at times. Not when I am travelling” I lied.

She “I don’t enjoy music these days, honestly I never did” and she gave me the most beautiful childlike smile a 70 year old woman can. I smiled and looked out of the window with the smile still across my lips. I wasn’t sure if it was her smile or the realization that, in a 70 year old woman, I found someone who doesn’t enjoy music just like me.

She enquired about what I do and where I am travelling to; my answers were short and were followed by her own detailed description about her journey along with the purpose. I was listening to her and in between would look at her earlobes and the diamond stuck in the earrings. The wrinkles on her face couldn’t be ignored and to me, it seemed as if, one line leads to the other and then the other. I was listening to her story of growing up, her childhood and how days were different then, her college, her love for the English language, days in England, marrying an air force guy, divorce, teaching at a famous college in Chennai and now living with her elder son in Kerala; every word of what she spoke was interesting and a  life lived.

She “So, aren’t you bored yet?”

Me “You are doing good to keep me entertained and I have a beautiful woman for company with a beautiful story. I am entertained Amma.” I smiled.

She “You know how to speak to a woman, don’t you?” and she patted me on my shoulder.

Blushed like every time and a smile that just confirmed my shyness. She drank some water and offered me some, for which I pulled out the bottled lemon drink. She smiled and asked me to pull out a small pillow from her luggage, which I did. She rested the pillow between her back and seat, also asked me to pull back her seat, which I did. She closed her eyes but kept talking, she told me about her recent fight with the back ache, how she was preparing herself and her family for her death and most importantly completing her book of poems she started as a teenager.

I am not sure when her words faded away taking her into a beautiful silence of the slumber, I watched out of the window as moments of thoughtfulness in my head made way for some poignant eagerness  to reach home.  Am not sure if I will ever meet this old woman again, I am not even sure if I want to, but the thoughts of those four hours will be etched in my memory for some unknown reason.

(Fiction)

Random Thoughts

Posted: August 18, 2011 in The Thoughts
Tags: , , ,

Death would have been easier for the man I am

If death would have come with so much passion that I feel for her

Ask me for the reason I would look upon her

Ask me for the pain I wouldn’t know the reason

Not for the love I feel but the pain in that

Love seems lost or may be in love it seems

Drops of dream and all falling on to my closed eyes

All the more I am lost and all the more I am in love

She spoke of what I knew I would feel and she

She spoke of us and said its never, wish it was true for it seems forever

She saw my pain before I shared

As she asked me to keep away from her

Though I feel pain there as much I am in

Wild are the ways we think for the past we lived

Wild it would seem for the present we have

Love is what we do yet undefined for the world

Love all the more for it seems endless in all

Know her of her thoughts, her dreams and her love alike.

Know so much of pain in knowing that she is possessed.

Know as much pain, for I belong to her.

I stand crowded by relations lost in her thoughts,

Lost, I see her from a strange distance that’s strangely close.

Lost might be she but I know I walk along

Neither words of wisdom nor the curse of betrayal

Not even the pain of losing would hold us back

For I know its passion in all

Know not where it headed but know it isn’t right

Know it couldn’t have been better for the joy it gives

She asked, I spoke but in between thoughts lost

She knew, I mystified yet we knew the answers all the same

Times we spoke of love yet scared to define for we know

The pain there after would be the end of us

Or as she said I would be the end of her

Or she the end of me…..

 

P.S: Ignore the errors. Too Random. From Old Files

She was awake but her eyes still closed, she knew that he would be around. It was a routine, waking up to his head against her hand. It has been a journey living with him amongst other things, a journey that started off 7 years ago. “Kaveri, consider this to be a part of your life. Be strong and you can fight it ….out of you” the counselor told her as she sat there thoughtless and caring less about the new life she just started. She knew it was her, and nobody else, who has to live through whatever she been through and further. She wanted to move out of those wooden doors or at least spend sometime alone within any set of walls. She stood up and as she walked out of the door, she turned around and asked the counselor “Do you think having a pet be a good idea at this point in time?” The counselor unsure of what she meant smiled and nodded his head.

Driving through Delhi wasn’t something that was new to her; after 3 years of being married to the city but that day, it seemed different, felt different. A week ago she had survived what she dreaded the most. Cancer was something she was always scared of, the routine check up, the discovery and life changed forever. She called up D, as she called her husband, and asked if she should buy a pet. A man who adored her and stood by her through every bit of the joy and sorrow she been through, she knew he would ask her to go ahead. He asked her if he should come along but she wanted to be alone for sometime, free from any sort of attention. She parked her car and walked into this pet shop, she wasn’t sure if she would even buy one.

She stood there watching the birds beating their wings around the cage and trying to fly out of nothing, she saw her pain in that struggle. She had fought harder and still had to fight against this nothingness or a struggle against a certain end. Her eyes brimming with tears; it was more for her than the birds or was it for her and them. She decided against buying a pet. As she was walking out of the shop, she saw this teenager bringing in a pup, held against his chest. He smiled at her as she passed him, a smile as if he knew why she was there. She couldn’t walk further and turned around to see why the boy was there. He was there to sell this little thing and she instantly wanted it.

As she was driving back home, she kept looking back to see if the pup was on the seat. Lying against her hand bag and his eyes fixed on her; he seemed like a pair of socks on the back of the seat. There was something about him, a sense of understanding between them. It seemed as if he knew her pain and she knew of his thoughts, all a part of her imagery but to this day there is this understanding, a sense of belonging.

These memories and the years that went by, the tears flowing down her closed eyes and she felt his head against her hand. Another day with this beautiful being, another day it was… as always.

This is a part of my stupid imagination. Inspiration drawn from the tweets of @ikaveri.

Certain End…

Posted: July 6, 2011 in The People

I wasn’t sure why I was awake and like most times I was thoughtless too. I was watching these silent rain drops flowing down the large window pane. I sat there, watching the journey of these rain drops slowly forming and rushing down to eventually meet with a certain death. I wasn’t sure of the thoughts crossing my mind and that’s when the mobile vibrated in the darkest corner of the room. I could see some light in that darkness. I wasn’t sure whether to answer the call or to ignore it, the way I treat most of the midnight calls. For some reason  I stood up from this old  bean bag, my eyes still staring at those rain drops against the window pane. It was my mother’s number on the screen, unsure of how to start with the call for the silence we have maintained between us for ages, I answered the call with a  “tell me” and I could hear the suffocating sound of my cousin. I knew something wasn’t right. I knew something wasn’t right with me, something about my existence and I knew my life was going to change. I knew it. He stammered and whispered, sounded pretty unsure whether or not to tell me what he had on his mind or what he knew of. I lost my father and just like those rain drops rushing down the window pane, he to found his certain end. I could feel the non existent tears forming and moving down to a certain death, as I sat there  on the same bean bag watching those rain drops moving down slower than before.