Monday, June 17, 2013

Going the distance (The story unveils)

The soothing music was abruptly converted into noise as my earphones were pulled out. Suddenly peace transformed into chaos.
“Why do you always have to do this Manish?” I said glaring at him.
He gave a mischievous grin. Nothing had changed since the last time we met.
Before I could realize what was happening, Manish was sitting in front of me with two cups of coffee.
I wasn’t in a great state of mind to enjoy coffee but couldn’t refuse him either.
“I think I have decided what I want in life,” I said.
He seemed to have a confident look on his face. Taking a sip of coffee he asked, “That sounds interesting. What do you plan to do?”
I paused for a while. Three to four gulps of coffee went in before I felt like telling him about my plans.
“I need some time before I can get into the wedlock,” I said in a hesitant tone.
“I had asked for the same, couple of weeks back,” he said with a careless laugh.
“We all deserve our time and space. It is one life that we have and we need to live it,” he continued.
“I need more time… not just a few months,” I said with discomfort.
We might have to be away for long. I am not sure what decision we would need to take.
There was an abrupt silence between us.
He looked at me intensely. That very instant, I knew, he was deeply hurt with my decision.
We sat in silence for seconds looking at each other. We knew what was coming our way.
He got a grip on himself and asked, “Where are you going Trishna?”
I dared not spill the beans so soon.
“Please tell me Trishna,” he said in a desperate tone.
“I am going to pursue M.S. from Queensland University.”
“I cleared the online entrance examination. They have asked me to write back accepting the position after completing the application formalities,” I continued, taking the last sip of my cold coffee. “Yuck!!” Coffee was bitter and so was his expression.
“Queensland… Australia?” he asked, digesting the news.
“So, how long will you be away?” he finally managed to ask.
“Three years,” I said bluntly.
“If I am not wrong M.S. takes 2 years,” he said in a contradictory tone.
“Yes, it does but I have opted for one extra year of internship. The future prospects are good,” I replied confidently.
“When did you decide about this?” Manish asked while his expression said, “Why didn’t you care to tell me before deciding?”
“That day, when you decided to postpone the engagement and wedding,” I replied.
My words were like poisoned arrows that cut across his heart.
“Oh, so you are back to the same topic? Please stop this drama, Trishna,” he retorted.
“I did not postpone our engagement and wedding. In fact I never wanted an early engagement. It was what our families wanted,” he added.
“Didn’t you want the same thing to happen?” he asked looking at me with an expression that said just-say-you-wanted-the-same-thing-to-happen.
“No, I wanted to have our engagement and wedding at the right time. I was convinced that this was the right time,” I said firmly.
“For once, think about family Manish,” I said in a pleading manner.
“I am a family oriented man. I know what I am doing is not going to affect anyone. I know how to convince them, but I think, I can never convince you to believe in me,” he said in a dejected tone.
“You had your own selfish reasons that you are naming as career plans. If you had bothered once about my future plans you would have helped me out by guiding me,” I snapped back.
The conversation got heated up.
“Everyone is looking at you Trishna, please calm down. There’s nothing to get furious about,” Manish said trying to ease our conversation.
“I have my career plan set Trishna; I needed your help and support. I thought you could understand and try letting me out of the muddle I am in at my current workplace.”
“Your career plans are plans, what about mine?” I said in anger.
“Go ahead, who’s stopping you,” he replied in an eased out manner.
“That’s exactly what I am doing,” I smirked.
“You are taking revenge. This is not called a career plan. You never discussed about your plans to do your masters, that too from Australia.”
Abrupt silence again.
“How can you decide something like that without asking me?” the question was fired at me.
“Am I getting married to you to ask your permission?” I fired back.
“You are full of sarcasm and vengeance Trishna,” he said with disgust.
“Just because I wanted to postpone our wedding, you are doing this to me and our families. Why Trishna? Can you give me a logical explanation?” he asked.
I could read from his eyes, he had lost half the battle. He knew very well that once I had decided upon something I wouldn’t budge easily.
I was also in the same state two weeks back. The complete dilemma I was in got wiped out only when I met my professor who helped me to decide what was best for my future.
“Trishna, you are acting childish. Please don’t take such impulsive decisions. We’ll sort it out. You can have a bright future here. I’ll help you complete your masters in India,” he said.
“You just need to be near me,” he said after a pause.
I felt triumphant when I heard these words but even that could not hold me back. I calmed myself down and explained to him about my future prospects, career plans, growth and the Skype meeting I had with the professor. He heard me out in complete silence.
“It won’t be long, Manish,” I said reassuringly.
“I am not taking revenge. I am just taking out time to do something for myself.”
“You needed 6 months and I need 3 years.”
He swayed his head from side to side showing complete disagreement.
“Three years is too long. Think about our families. They have become so close,” he said in an attempt to convince me emotionally.
I had discussed about my plans with both our parents. My parents were reluctant to support me but I had to take a stand.
“Manish, I thank you for doing things against my wish. At least I am inspired to do something for my happiness and not for others,” I said with a smile.
He smiled back.
“At least you are happy about something… So when are you leaving for Australia Trishna?” he asked.
The look on his face suggested that he had reached that stage of acceptance. I knew he still loved me the same way but was also disappointed with my decision.
“Next Sunday. The flight is at 10 PM.”
“Are you coming to see me off?” I asked anxiously.
“I’ll think about it. I am not happy with your decision but if you feel it’s a good career option, I wouldn’t stop you.”
I felt relieved.
“Thanks so much for understanding,” I told him, genuinely.
He didn’t respond to anything I said. He had tried to accept the fact but hadn’t been able to come to terms with his feelings. I tried not to overdo my explanation at this point.
It was getting late so we bade each other good bye. I was hoping to regain my normal composure by the next day. Still, as I walked back, I felt a stabbing pain within. On one hand I was happy to have decided something about my future and on the other hand I wasn’t prepared to hurt him with my decision.
I went home only to find my parents sitting gloomily and also hoping at the same time that I might have changed my decision.
His parents had the same reaction when he reached home. That’s what I could make out after eavesdropping on my mother’s conversation.
Over the course of one year our parents had grown closer than us. While we seemed to be growing further apart.
********
He did not come to the airport. He called to say goodbye and alibis to prove that he was absolutely normal. Our parents were lamenting the fact that we were heading towards a sour relationship. They didn’t want us to give up on each other because of this distance.
The last text I received from him before leaving for Australia read, “I love you and always will.”
Tears welled up in my eyes and dried only when I landed in Australia.
The University and hostel campus were good. I had made couple of scholar friends online. It didn’t seem a strange place to me because of their presence.

Rumor had it that Indians were not treated well in Australia. I was concerned about that and so were my parents. There were frequent calls, at least twice or thrice a day in the initial few weeks.

A challenging journey was ahead of me and I somehow had to walk through it. A month got over without any hassles at the University. I had slight trouble in getting adjusted to the lifestyle of the people around. I liked sleeping early but the hectic schedule in the morning made me work harder in order to catch up with the professors’ pace. Everything else seemed normal except for my mind that couldn’t be at peace.

I wanted to share my daily experiences with someone close back in India but I had self-imposed restraints. I didn’t call Manish once I reached Australia, neither did he. He chose all other options to know about me like enquiring my parents and asking his parents to call me instead.

I felt that urge to just give him a call at random hours and tell him that I was missing his company but the time difference made me step back. I was one of those non-nagging girlfriends any boy could ever ask for. I didn’t know being that way could lead to cracks in a relationship.

I tried to convince myself that he was still not out of the deeply wounded phase. My parents were normal with me and seemed quite happy hearing of my progress at the University. There were talks about Manish in between. The same story was repeated time and again. The blame game was played occasionally, with me ending up in tears.

I was living my ambition but I was hoping this wouldn’t break our relationship apart. It wasn’t the first time we were fighting. Similar disagreements, misunderstandings had happened in the past which of course had gone unnoticed by our parents. Once our families got involved everything was out in the open. His parents were supportive and always wished for my bright future. They wished for us to patch up soon.

I read up articles on websites and tried talking to my friends online so that I could somehow stop feeling the breeze of cold feelings between us. But our egos had formed a thick wall.

I always had the urge to call him when it was past midnight in India. He was involved in his work seriously. Staying away from him, not being able to talk to him or convey my thoughts to him made me retrospect on those aspects of my behavior which he had tolerated all this while. I tried understanding his views when he was concentrating on his career move and had plainly refused to get into the wedlock. Though, he had realized later that the wedding wasn’t going to affect his work so much as he had assumed. In fact, he said he needed my presence.

Once when I had asked about his work his mother told me, “He’s not in that enthusiastic state of mind these days. He works 24/7 and occasionally hangs out with friends. We know how sad he is feeling inside after you left for Australia. The excitement of arranging a wedding isn’t there in our family anymore.”

“Please try talking to him whenever you find time,” she had added in a worried tone.

The next day had become terrible for me at the University. I couldn’t even concentrate during an important guest lecture. My roommate also noticed the dull look on my face. Thinking that I was feeling aloof in a new world, she planned a Saturday night party with friends.
I had never been to any party or concert without Manish. We had a large circle of friends. While I was getting ready I could remember the last concert of Lucky Ali which we had attended. I was wearing the same top today. However, partying revived my so called dull spirit.
I was slightly high on alcohol by the time I returned and had one night of peaceful sleep. For once, I had only memories from our happy past.
It was 4 AM when my alarm went blaring, jolting me up from my sleep.
I looked at my phone and switched the alarm off. Five minutes later I struggled to open my eyes realizing the motive of the alarm. It was past midnight and I was not the first one to call Manish on his birthday this time.
First, a deep sense of regret swiped across me, and then my heart skipped a beat when I realized that I had forgotten to add enough currency to make a long call to India. I had to manage with the amount I had. I called him. His phone was busy.
I waited for ten minutes and tried again. The phone was still busy. I felt a surge of emotions within. Manish would never talk on phone for so long with anyone except me. I stopped analyzing the situation for a while. A million thoughts crossed my mind; probably he had moved on and was busy conversing with his new girlfriends.
I didn’t feel like calling him again. I lost all courage to talk to him. The very next moment there was a call from him.
“Hello,” he said.
I was on cloud nine.
“Hiiiiiiiiii! It’s me, Trishna,” I said excitedly.
I sang the complete birthday song before he was allowed to react.
He was chuckling on the other side. His excitement was evident. Moments later he seemed to realize that I was not in India and said “So, how are you doing? Not interested in talking to Indians?”
“Who said so?” I snapped back. “I talk to Indians more frequently than you try talking to Australians”.
“How have you been Trishna? It has been over two months since we last spoke,” Manish said in a saddened tone.
Unable to talk about my current state I diverted the conversation towards my day to day activities at the University. I asked him about his work life in Hyderabad. We discussed about our parents and how anxious they were to see us together.
During this casual conversation I suddenly recalled that Manish’s phone was engaged for quite some time when I had tried his number.
“Whom were you talking to for so long Manish?” I enquired in a soft tone keeping my fingers crossed and wishing it wasn’t a girl.
“Errrrr… ummm…” he stammered before blurting out the name I didn’t want to hear.
“Shikha.”
There was a stunned silence. I could only hear the sound of the moving fan.
I regained my composure and said, “Oh! That’s nice. So how is she doing?”
I went green with jealousy. I dreaded this fact and it came true. I always hated her. My thoughts drifted to the day when I had to meet his parents for the first time and he had invited Shikha also. I was furious. The explanation I got was that he was nervous and wanted her to be around so that she could help get things moving between me and his parents. I did agree with that fact but I certainly didn’t want any other girl to act as a buffer between me and his parents. Once it was time for us to get engaged or married, Shikha drifted a bit away and gave us our time. A nice human being that she was, she never failed to make me envy the ease with which she could handle issues with Manish. She was our mentor in tough times and now that I was far away, she was the only one Manish opened up to.
My thoughts got interrupted by Manish’s reply, “She’s doing great. In fact, she might be married soon. Her parents have started looking for suitable prospects.”
I did heave a sigh of relief which wasn’t made evident to him on phone.
With marriage came thoughts that we wanted to avoid. He asked again, “Trishna, how long should we wait? I am not used to being away from you for so long.”
“We’ll work this out Manish. We must thank technology for giving us various means to communicate,” I said in an assertive tone.
“I am not comfortable as the time zone difference is difficult to maintain for three years. Shall we make some schedule sort of a thing?”he asked.
I giggled when I heard it but considered his option seriously.
We decided to talk on phone every Saturday at a time when both of us were free. It wasn’t like those five minute calls that I made at home. We had to talk for hours together and talking on Skype was the best option. It was difficult but we managed.
The initial few months weren’t good. We only complained and argued. There was nothing constructive.
Time flew by. Blame game was at the top of the list. It became so difficult to talk lovingly that I once asked myself, “Do I really need to continue with this relationship and get married to him?” I had the craziest of doubts about him as I was far away and felt I had drifted far off from his heart too.
There were exchanges of loving messages but often when we were offline.
Me:        I am really sorry; I shouldn’t have been harsh on you.
I understand your point of view.J
Have patience, just 10 more days to go, I will be in India.
These messages were sent when you were offline.
Manish: I know dear, you didn’t intend to hurt me.
Eager to meet you.

Messages like these did leave a good impact but often the essence of the conversation was lost. I wasn’t online always, as I had lot of reading up to do for my assignments and projects. Manish was busy with his work. He dedicated his time completely to it so that he could spare time for me when I would be in India.
Finally, the day had come when I got a short break to come home and spend time with my parents. It was an exquisite feeling to be with my close ones after two years.
Homecoming was wonderful. I expected Manish to be there at the airport too but my expectations didn’t get fulfilled. Unfortunately he had to go to Bangkok for a presentation.
I was happy for him but hurt with the fact that he didn’t care to inform me. I checked my mail, my chats and Whatsapp, there was no message pending from him. My mother defended him saying he had tried to call me up but I wasn’t convinced. The forgetful nature he had, he would have forgotten that I was going to be in India only for five days. I met his parents and we finally had a good interaction without any complaints. Even though I wasn’t able to explain to them in detail, they were happy about my progress. They indirectly hinted saying that Manish was doing good emotionally once we had started communicating.
To me, he was never the emotional type but I had to agree with what his parents had said. Five days went off in a jiffy and I was back again at the airport assuring my parents that it was just one more year.
I couldn’t meet Manish. He was back only after I reached Australia. He deeply regretted not keeping me informed. We were not on talking terms again for a stretch of four months. We had our chats and argument sessions which led to problems. His career was important and he shared only a few technical details with me. He never asked much about my work either. I could make out from his conversation that his work was going good but couldn’t decipher more than that.
We kept discussing petty matters that never got resolved. Sometimes I misunderstood things he spoke or messaged, and the aftereffects of such conversations left me irritated.
I was halfway through my internship and had been receiving a decent amount as scholarship. I had saved enough to buy something for my close ones. Manish had an upper hand in this. Even though I fought him like a child, I knew it was the distance and communication gap that made me go mad at him always.
I bought him an iPad which could be useful for him at work. It was to be my surprise for him when I would move back to India. My internship was completed successfully and I had been placed in a Mexican firm as a technical analyst for the research and development team.
I didn’t plan to jump to that job immediately. I put forth my wish to work in India. My VISA was also going to expire soon and I had to decide. I had a meeting with the board members of the firm and requested them to shift me to their branch in India which would help me put an end to many problems of my life.
Finally it was my graduation night, and I had saved enough money to sponsor my parents’ travel to Australia.
I went to receive them at the airport with the proud feeling of having graduated.
Finally, that moment had arrived when I received my degree.
Their eyes were gleaming with tears. They had seen their daughter emerging triumphant. Their happiness knew no bounds. The emotional atmosphere got supersaturated with the arrival of the special chief guest for the night.
When I walked back to my seat after my valedictory speech, I saw a familiar lanky figure sitting beside my parents.
There he was, my best friend, my love and my future partner, looking at me proudly. I rummaged my mind for words but my eyes answered instead. Manish’s shirt was moist with tear drizzles when I gave him a tight hug.
I packed off from Australia after informing my guide about my plan to work in India. He was reluctant to send me off so soon but he realized the importance I gave to my family. I had to live up to the promise I had made to my closest people.
While we were at the airport, Manish and I resumed our normal conversation. We discussed about our future plans which were related to only wedding. I told him that I had been offered a job in a Mexican firm which also had an office in India.
“That’s great dear. We’ll finally be together,” Manish said in a relieved tone.
“But where?” he asked inquisitively.
“Bangalore,” I said excitedly.
“But I was planning to start my new venture in Chennai and our potential client will be located there,” Manish said in desperation and turned his back after giving a can-you-really-bear-this-distance-again expression.
“Oh! No!” I screeched in dismay. (I had to decide something before the situation worsened).
“Don’t worry, I’ll find myself a new job this time,” I said taking control of the situation.

The very next moment three smiling faces turned towards me.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Modern Health Care- Making life meaningful


Modern healthcare aims at improving the quality of life of the people.  With the advancement of technology, diseases are also on the prowl mainly because of a sedentary lifestyle that 80% of us lead. Health deteriorates and so does the immunity. So, here are the health care providers of the modern day who aim to make living easy. The development that technology has made in the health care industry has acted as a catalyst in making life simpler and easier.

Gone are the days of invasive surgeries, extensive waiting time for diagnosis and testing. There has been a massive advancement when technology including the electronic and the IT Industry shook hands with the health care sector. There are latest diagnostic methods, imaging technology, surgical tools, investigative methods, state of art technology, quality and standard of testing, automation, innovation and speed. Methods are developed which are less troublesome for the patients and make it easier for the clinicians. The development of the health care sector has been overall. Modern day methods have used the applications of varied fields. With quality education, automation and mechanization, modern day health care aims to touch the lives of everyone.

When the cost of affording a health care facility in the modern day has raised leaps and bounds, there are alternatives that help the lesser privileged. There are various certified and accepted insurance schemes available at a yearly investment which is bare minimum. There are special trusts and funds that provide discounts for the advantage of the needy. Though many instances appear when the needy don’t get the right help from the right person. Here’s when media and sales come into picture. They help in creating awareness to the general public about the various options they have. Education itself has helped the common man to understand about the health care. Distribution of pamphlets, online promotions and in depth detail of the ailments has helped patients take a path called preventive health care. Lifestyle associated problems are solved at ease with simple methods like counseling.

For example, at the tap of a button an instrument is guided inside the body which can remove tissues. Within seconds these tissue slices can be taken and analyzed under a microscope that can detect the results with photographs. The next moment, this reports gets uploaded onto the hospital information software, any other clinicians sitting in any other part of the hospital can view. Next click of the button the report is sent via e- mail to the patients, a copy is handed over and a text message is sent informing to the patient that the report is ready. A chain of events occur within few hours that help in the early diagnosis of the prevailing condition.
Gone are the days when health care set ups had to slog hard to generate a diagnostic test report. The transporting of samples through the pneumatic chute system which allows the easy transfer within minutes from one corner of the premises to the other corner has reduced errors in all aspects.
The moment a radiographic image is taken, it gets uploaded on to a system that is pushed into a data base. The server detects the search based on the requirement by the clinician each time he/she wants to view it.

Little things like these have overall made the life of the people approaching the health care industry better. A patient walks in with an ailment and walks home satisfied for approaching a modern day health care center.
Being from the health care industry myself, I feel we are constantly striving to provide a better living.  


This article was written for an initiative taken up by Apollo Hospitals in unison with Indiblogger- http://www.apollohospitals.com/cutting-edge.php

Friday, December 7, 2012

“Going the distance”- My entry for the get published contest


This story talks about the trials and tribulations of relationships that are seen in the present day scenario. 

It is about a girl who’s the main protagonist and the narrator who is on the helm of a serious decision making part of her relationship. She is clueless whether to choose her career or sacrifice her love. On the other hand, the man who loves her is equally strong with his thoughts. If it’s not always about adjustment there’s also self satisfaction in life. Both refuse to budge from their thoughts. Holding the flag of eternal love for each other intact they proceed on a journey that doesn't have a good end for them. It talks about their struggle with their ambition, thoughts and their constant endeavors to work out the concept that – ‘love can co- exist with ambition’. 

Gone are the times when decisions about relationships were based only on love. Love is not only about sacrifices. Those days’ couples could even elope to be with their love but the present day situation doesn't seem to support blind love.  It is ruled by fact, self contentment, happiness and ambition. On one hand when gender biasing gets reduced, there are additional roles and responsibilities that couples take up. There’s struggle involved in maintaining any relationship. 

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Lost and Found

This story has been published in Yourstory club website as part of Creative writing competition : http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-funny/funny-short-story-lost-and-found/



“Ouch!! My knee hurts. I can’t walk anymore,” granny grumbled panting for breath.
“Are you feeling good?” I asked in a worried tone.
“Don’t worry I’ll be alright with some rest. Just get me water to drink.”
I had barely walked across the platform when I realized that I had left my purse with granny. I retraced my steps only to find granny walking towards the other direction leaving the luggage behind. I was petrified seeing her walk away without informing me. It caught my attention just in time. I grabbed the luggage and my purse in hand and tried catching up to her.
“A while back she complains about knee pain and now she is walking as if in a marathon,” I wondered within.
The clock displayed 9:00 AM. Exactly one hour for our train to arrive.
I kept following my granny trying to push myself through the crowd and dragged the luggage. I didn’t know whether to run or to just walk in the same pace.
I shouted several times but she didn’t hear. It looked as if she was following someone. I was tensed thinking she might have gone searching for me. I asked few of the fellow people walking around to try stopping her but she was 20 steps away from me.
The crowded platform made things worse for me. My legs hurt but I kept following her and was nearing her. I was quite close. With all my might I put complete pressure on my calf muscles, ran towards her and nudged her only to give her a shock.
“Where are you going without telling me?” I asked in an angry tone.
She looked pale. Her heartbeat had already increased. The hearing aid was dangling around her neck.
“What do you want granny?” I asked putting her hearing aid back.
She pointed towards a man who was ten steps ahead of us.
“Who’s that? Do you know him? Did he steal something?”I asked jolting her elbow.
She refused to speak but pointed at that man saying, “Take me there.”
I put my arms around her shoulder and held her close to me. With one hand to support her and the other hand dragging my suitcase I walked faster.
I was close to him. His hair looked dirty from behind as if he had not bathed over years. His slippers looked torn. I shouted across the platform only to make everyone turn towards me.
He looked back . Seeing me rush towards him he stood still wondering why a normal passenger would call for a beggar with eagerness until one had something to give him. I didn’t have time to guess why granny was following a beggar.
No sooner had we reached him than granny grabbed the over coat he had in his hand. He was totally taken aback by this gesture and I was shocked seeing granny’s behaviour.
“What are you doing granny? You can take some rag picker’s coat like this.” I shouted at her.
It was embarrassing to face this situation. The rag picker was stinking and I couldn’t stand this anymore.
“This is mine,” granny said with confidence, pushing me away. I really wondered from where she got that strength.
She explained to the rag picker in the local language that it was her coat. She turned the coat back and showed us the embroidery.
“This is my work. I had done this. This is your grandpa’s coat. This is your grandpa’s coat,” saying this she almost burst into tears.
The beggar seemed to be reluctant to even part with the only proper clothing he had. After understanding my granny’s intention he tugged the coat towards him.
“Calm down granny. It must be some mistake,” I said trying to take control.
“No it isn’t. It is your grandpa’s coat,” saying this she started rambling through the pockets and took out a small handkerchief from it to show us the evidence.
The beggar looked blank and I was confused.
“I told your mother not to give it to anyone but she still managed to give it to some rag picker. I want this coat back,” granny said with fury.
I was in a difficult situation and almost ten passerby had surrounded us. I tried to take the situation under control. I tried explaining to her but she refused and neither did the rag picker agree. Both were adamant.
He looked diseased and one more moment near him wound make me puke. I didn’t even feel like touching that over coat. It looked dirty. I had to do something. Many asked me but I dispersed the crowd trying to get hold of the situation.
I took granny aside and tried to explain. “There might be many coats like this granny and you might be just imagining about this embroidery. The coat must be at home,” I told her.
She didn’t agree. She was so sure that it was the same overcoat.
“I searched for it yesterday while I was packing. It wasn’t there,” she said with confidence. “I always warn people not to meddle with my personal things. Your mother will never listen,” she said with disgust.
I wanted to laugh imagining the amount of fuss she would create after going home but I had other important role to play.
I was informed by the rag picker that he got it from a washer man. There was no time but to convince the rag picker.
I requested him to give me the over coat in simple words but he didn’t agree. I thought for a while and realized that for a rag picker like him who barely had proper clothing to wear, parting with an over coat would be too much a price to pay.
Finally, I bargained with him to sell me the overcoat for almost 500 rupees. He grinned widely looking at the crisp 500 rupee note. I cursed my fate for this loss and thought how foolish we were to buy some old rag for such a high price.
This feeling was momentary though. I barely could hold the coat near to me but my granny seemed the happiest. She grabbed the over coat from me and wrapped it inside a cover.
“It’s the first coat I ever got for your grandpa and made this embroidery myself. It is very precious to me,” granny said with a relieved look on her face.
I took granny aside while the train slowly parked itself on the platform.
Mom burst into laughter when she heard about the incident.
“Tell your granny that I had not sold the over coat but I had given it for a wash to the washer man. He must have misplaced it and given it to the rag picker,” mom said this and the hung up.



Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Picture Story

Published in Yourstory Club website : http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-love/sweet-love-short-story-picture-story/


A lazy Sunday afternoon after a sumptuous meal seemed disgusting when I had been instructed to shift all my old college notes from my room to the attic. Every step I took with a pile of books in hand, I burped.  The puri- chole had started its action in my stomach.
“Get done with this work fast and take rest Anisha,” my mom screamed from her room.
“Yes, I intend to mom,” I muttered with a sigh.
It was high time that I cleared my overflowing college notes and my books from the drawing room before the guests arrived.
With a mask around my nose I barged into the most neglected area in my house- the attic; in the terrace.
I was entering this room after 6 years. This place started making me feel spooky. It looked clean and arranged but the shelves and trunks were covered with a thin layer of dust. No one had time to spend here ever since the time I left.
I had enough energy to open the trunk and dump all the books inside.  In the event of dumping my books at one go I managed to completely fill it and was unable to close the lid. I had to rummage through the trunk completely, take out everything that was dumped, pile them back and stack them neatly.
A small notebook was left behind which certainly didn’t seem anywhere close to my notes. The cover looked tattered with silverfish crawling on it.
Curiosity crept in as I dusted the book.
The first page had something written with an ink pen that had obviously been smudged. I flipped that page only to find the most awesome couple I have ever known- ‘My parents’.
My mom was dressed in a beautiful red chiffon saree draped beautifully around her perfect figure, hair neatly tied into a bun, a gerbera protruding from one side of her hair right behind the corner of her ear and eyes neatly lined with dark kohl. Beside her, stood my handsome dad wearing a baggy pant, neatly combed hair with side partition (which he still continues to maintain) and wearing a white high collared shirt he certainly could have made any girl fall flat for him. It seemed like a picture taken at a studio. I faintly remembered the time when mom had shown me this book. It was their scrapbook with a collection of few of their fond memories that no one could capture.
The second picture wasn’t very clear but had that black and white touch with mom standing with dad and their school friends outside their school premises beside their bicycle. They looked grown up and I wondered how mom would have managed his teenage tantrums. It seemed like a sweet picture with mom’s calm smile and dad’s mischievous grin. It reminded me of the story that mom once narrated as a bed time story.
She could have easily converted herself into the queen and my dad into the king along with their bicycle as the horse and tell me their life’s fairy tales. The mischief that they did, the enjoyment they drew out of riding their bicycles, doubles/ triples and stealing mangoes from the trees on hot summer afternoons was something which I would never experience.
Below each picture there was a date written with the same ink pen that I couldn’t decipher.
The third picture was a group photograph with almost 30 students and one teacher in the center wearing big round glasses. It certainly seemed familiar to me. She was my school principal who was then my parents’ class teacher.
I stood still, stared closely at the picture. There stood, mom and dad in the first row exactly side by side, almost of the same height.  They looked cute together then and in my eyes they still look the same. My mom never failed to have her hair plaited to a neat length and dad flaunted his dressing style always. They were the best of the lot in school.
Through hardships and strong perseverance they had come to that stage. I wonder how mom managed to convince dad into marriage after being just close friends for years together.
The fourth one was the best of the lot. Mom and dad sat on the back of a cycle rickshaw while going to school. It was one of those memorable pictures that my granny had always preserved of her son and her neighbour’s daughter (my mom).
Mom repeatedly told me of the tough times she faced in convincing dad to proceed with the relationship. They hardly exchanged conversations apart from homework and play when they were together. It took my dad 20 years to realize that he did have feelings towards my mom not just as a childhood friend but also as a companion.
The last page of the book was the most touching part which I felt, did make a difference.
It read:  ‘ I like you.’
                    Yours Ramesh
 (The‘s’ and the ‘h’ seemed smudged because of moisture.)
My dad had preserved some selected pictures of their childhood days and had gifted them in the form of a scrapbook to my mom. These snaps had been stolen from my granny’s album and had been gifted as a token of love from my dad.
My thoughts seemed rejuvenated. My heart skipped and jumped with alacrity. I pushed that book safely back into the trunk and closed the lid.
I had re-lived few memories of my parents’ life.
The phone rang with a shrill only to make me come back to reality.
Seeing the caller id picture of Adi and me together I felt we complemented each other just like mom and dad.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Bikini and Me

This story has been published in Yourstory club for CWCI Competition-  http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-social-moral/short-story-with-moral-lesson-bikini-and-me/

6 October, Goa: “So, you sell only bikinis?” a young teenage customer asked me in an excited tone.
I smiled back warmly at her nodding my head. The girl seemed overjoyed and amazed looking at all the contents that filled every corner of my little shop.
“You ask for any kind and it is there. Different shapes, sizes, colours, patterns and prints. I offer customized designs too,” I said showing one brilliant piece of my work.
Tiger prints, beaded, multicoloured, backless, halter neck, strapless, printed and abstract prints. I got the craziest of ideas. I knew the choice of the girls who came in this area. In a place like Goa which attracted many foreigners and young bubbling girls, I started this as a small shop under a thatched roof beside this Kempu beach.
Seeing one girl spending more than 15 minutes in my shop her other friends followed. My happiness knew no bounds when they purchased in dozens. The same story repeated each day. I met new girls, spoke to them, took ideas from them and customized funky bikinis just the way they wanted.
I always roll into my past seeing the gleaming eyes of these girls.
I used to accompany my father when he went fishing. Afternoon school kept me occupied until I found time to play with girls I grew up with. The only sport known to us was swimming and diving into the cool blue sea that always seemed to welcome us. My mother decked me up in those beautiful swimming costumes that she stitched only for me. Those bits and pieces of cloth that she had named as my swimming costume are now the so called ‘bikini’.
Things were not the same always. Sitting by the beach I used to admire the girls who still went swimming without me. I sat on the warm sand at dusk noticing my friends who had grown up just like me. They played in the pool, enjoyed teasing other guys wearing the sarong or flaunting their sexy body with that beautiful piece of cloth which once used to be our swimming costume.
I was enveloped with fear then thinking I could never be one among them. My parents tried their best but I never found my confidence back. Negative energy seemed to have enveloped me. With time, the scars healed.
I just sat in one corner helping my mother with her stitching sessions each day. This fascination took over me and turned into public attraction in a short while.  My thoughts had a new dimension.
After years I can say I am contented.
***
The article read – Sherin is a Breast Cancer survivor from the past 40 years who has dedicated her life to brighten up the lives of young women.
 ***
I threw the last bit of the dry peanut skin, dusted the paper, folded it carefully and putting it in my pocket I headed towards the shop that had a big board “BIKINIS ONLY” written in bold over it.