Saturday 25 November 2017

Short Story: Encounter



“Please lower the window glass. Keep it half open.”
“Okay, madam.” The driver unlocks the auto directed switch and adjusts the glass of the window; and continues driving.
I put my left hand on the window glass and rest my face over my hand. The cold breeze kisses my face, leaving a sensation down the spine. I love the road journey especially those where one drives through greenery. I don’t know all the names of the trees that stand on both sides of the road except Gulmohar and neem trees. Believe me, if you look as far your eyes can; you will never want to blink for a second. The sunrays play hide and seek with my face while the cold breeze play with my hair and I try helplessly to tuck my hair behind my ear. But the whole day’s exhaustion was taking a toll on me. And I fail to keep my eyes open.
Suddenly, my car gave a jerk. My hand slipped and my face collided with the window glass. I got hurt on the left side of my cheek.
“Drive safely.”
“Sorry, madam. It wasn’t my fault. These bike riders neither think of their safety nor of others...” the driver explained.
I choose not to take the conversation further and I peep outside the glass. A couple on a bike is going on par with my cab. The girl holds the boy tightly while her head rests on the boy’s back. Something stabbed me. I remain calm and rested my head on the back seat of the cab. I, now, want badly to reach my destination as fast as I can.
“How much time will it take to reach the airport?” I enquired.
“Madam, we are about to cross Deepor Beel. It will take another 30 minutes at the most,” the driver informed.
I tried to hold back my breath. Something choked deep inside me. I, somehow, manage to say, “Please close the window.”
“Madam, look at the setting sun. You can only see it sometimes. Madam, you are lucky!” the driver exclaimed, pointing towards the setting sun.
“Will you please close the window?” I said harshly.
The driver did as directed.
I close my eyes. One thing, I realize that moment, memories never part with you even though the person who create those sometimes may leave. I try to shut all the doors that flung open in the front door of my eyes. And tears slowly make its way down my cheeks.
I reach airport well before time at 6:00 pm and my flight for Delhi is scheduled for 7:30pm. After the usual check in at the airline desk, security checkpoint, collecting boarding pass, I occupy one of the vacant seats.
6:30 pm
Lokpriya Gopinath Bordoloi International Airport,
 13th July, 2017.
Dear Dairy,
Today, I again see the reflection of my past. It brings back the waves of emotions. And the emotions are creating whirlpools deep inside. The chaos within me made me more restless.  And I feel lonely even in this crowded place. So, I choose to share with you before I board my flight.
The couple on the bike and Deepor Beel together coincidentally brought back the memories of him. I miss him, but I don’t admit. I had many a times promised myself that I will never think of him. But I do. And every time, I miss him; I share with you.
The Sun even chooses to mock at my past. I remember those days when he used to ride me all these distances to see the sunset and how every time we missed it for a minute or two? And he used to promise me to take me to some other spots. I could never see sunset with him. And now when the sun of my life has set, the sun just sets in front of my eyes. But I no longer feel it appealing.
Yours in sackcloth,
Mon.
People have already made a queue. I walk towards the queue and stand behind the crowd. As I make my way to board the flight, I wish when I return everything fall in place.
Comment below your thoughts if ever you come across such situation, what will be your reaction.

Friday 17 November 2017

Short Story: Spinster Party




The chirping sound of birds is the most pleasant music to the ear. But if it continues for a longer time, will it be soothing to your ear? Believe me; it is not, especially when you get to hear the same day.
The birds began humming the same tune, knocking on my doorsteps and telling me that it’s time to get up. I half heartedly welcome my new day and hastily searched for my cell with my eyes closed. Somehow, I found my cell lying somewhere below my pillow. I then let the birds sleep for 24 hours. The birds in my cell phone never fail to wake me up in the morning. Once they woke me up, I put them to sleep; a bonding shared with so much care.
“It is a holiday. Let me sleep for some more time,” I reminded myself. And my eyes closed completely. I smiled at the thoughts of extra nap and ‘my day.’
But then my cell rang. I opened my eyes, cursing the caller. It was Damini, one of my seniors in college.
“Hello, Damini,” I said, sounding as if I was in deep slumber.
“Hey, Sana,’ she said in an excited voice.
I sat up on my bed and wondered how come people are so ignorant about me and my voice too? Don’t I sound like someone talking in sleep? How does my voice not reflect that I am still in bed?
“Sana, Are you there?” Damini’s words brought me back to my present plight.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Hey, Listen. Today I am throwing a spinster party at my place. You know, before marriage a must ritual for your friends. Otherwise, they might not turn up in my D-day. So, I want you to be present without any excuse,” she said almost in one breath.
Damini was one of my favourite seniors. She has been more a friend than a senior. Whenever I need her, she was ever ready to help me. So, I could not put down her invitation.
“Okay, I will.”
She asked me to reach her place by 12:00 noon and soon after she hang up.
After her call, my mood changed. ‘Spinster Party’ suddenly made my hormones shoot up. I jumped out of my bed in excitement and flung open my wardrobe. I stood there and my eyes went to and fro, scrutinizing every dress in my wardrobe. My excitement dropped down.
“Gosh! Sana, you don’t have anything to wear for the party,” I told myself aloud.
I reached out for my cell and dialled my best friend Swarna’s number.
She picked up my call in one ring.
Before she could even speak, I began,
“Can I borrow a dress from you? I have to attend a spinster party, (I emphasized on the word spinster), and I have no proper dress to wear.”
“Sana, I want to suggest you something...” she said seriously.
“Yes, say...”
“Get married. You’ll have all set of new dresses,” she said sarcastically.
“Swarna, what a suggestion? Disgusting...” I screamed at her.
“Your wardrobe has no place. So many dresses, traditional and western, both so nicely piled up. And how come you say that you have no dress? Too much of anything is bad, you know, Sana...”
“Stop, Swarna. I am in no mood to listen to your philosophy. Suggest me something...” I said.
“Wear that maxi dress you bought for your birthday...”
Before she could even say something more, I began, “I love you so much. That dress will be perfect. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before...”
She stopped me midway and teased me too much of everything is bad.
After her call ended, I took out that dress. I hold it with my two hands and stood before the mirror.
“Perfect,” I complimented myself and began laughing at my own gestures.
I then made a list of things from hair style to colour of my lipstick, stilettos to sling bag in my mind I need for the party.
I reached her home at exactly 12 noon. All her friends had already arrived. As I stepped inside, I was enthralled with the way the entire room was decorated. There was a centre table at the middle of the room. All the sofas were removed and four bean bags were there instead. There was also a mattress very nicely placed with small cushions spread over it. It reminded me of old mujra in Bollyhood movies. There was a bar at the corner of the room- the attractive one for today’s occasion. Just adjacent to the bar, all food items were kept.
My observation shifted to her friends when Damini introduced me to the group of spinsters.
“Hey, girls meet my best junior Sanatombi, a data analyst...”
I shook hands with them. They were ten in total. Some were dressed in hot pants and tees, a few in jeans and shirt and one in maxi dress like me. She seemed lost in her glass of cocktail or mock tail I was not sure.
The party began with loud music, and everyone jumped to the dance floor circling Damini. I too joined them. We all danced to a few of Bollywood dance numbers. After a while, I excused myself while few of them continue dancing. I walked up to the bar and read the names of different liquors:  three barrels, Mr. Boston, Brooklyn Lager, Blossom Hill, Risata, Paul Cluver, Bacardi Gold, and Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Sprite too.
“Hey, shall I make one for you?” Damini teased me from the back.
“Surely, in your daughter’s marriage...,” I replied turning towards her.
She laughed. But her excitement dropped down.
“Sana, I know, you won’t woo with us. But please feel comfortable and enjoy the party. You can have soft drinks,” she said, putting her hands over mine.
“Oh! Damini, I will. I have a better way to enjoy the party. Today I will become your bartender,” I said, tossing an invisible bottle in the air.
She laughed and gave me a tight hug.
“Thank you, Darling...” she whispered in my ear.
“Ma’am, what do you want to have?” I said, taking the position of the bar tender.
“Do you know the proportion to make a drink?” she asked with her eyebrows twisted.
“3:1(3 is to 1),” I replied.
“Sana, again mathematics...,” she grumbled.
I laughed. Someone called her name out and she left.
I sat there observing the girls, their dance, and their talks on their exes, their present crush and all. The liquor was having its toll on them. They laughed and cried at the same time. But the girl in that maxi dress was silent and calm. She laughed occasionally at the jokes of her friends and another time she was lost in the glass she was holding.
She might be observing me as well. So she walked up to me.
“Hey, girl. Are you feeling left out? Want to have a drink with me?” she asked me.
“No, ma’am, I don’t drink,” I replied.
She laughed. “Please call me Sheron.”
“Okay,” I smiled.
“So, you don’t drink...” Sheron began again.
“Yes,” I nodded.
“I drink, I smoke. So, what do you think about me?” she asked.
“I don’t have the right to judge you. It’s your choice. And I have other reasons for not drinking.”
“Other reasons...What?” Sheron seemed curious.
“I want to drink with my Mr. Right.” The words came out so fast, I realised later that I should not have shared this with Sheron.
“Mr. Right...Who is he?”
“I am single,” I replied and the words choked me deep inside.
“So, Sana...You are waiting for a mirage in the desert. You need someone to complete you. Your wish list has that person whom you do not know. You want to enjoy your life with a stranger rather than your friends whom you have known all these years. Your happiness counts on someone whom you are yet to meet.”
“No. I enjoy with my friends. But I keep certain wishes that I want to enjoy with my soul mate,” I stammered trying to justify my point.
“Soul mate...There is nothing like that. Can you be certain your Mr. Right want the same? What if he does not care to fulfil your wish list? Live in the present. Don’t dream of a castle that you imagine in your future? The future is always unpredictable. Take charge of your happiness. Don’t let others make you happy or sad. Let your own choice be responsible for what happens in your life,” she said and walked back to join her friends on the dance floor.
I was taken aback by her words. Her words were too harsh for me to digest. I felt like drinking all the liquors and then blurting at her. But I choose not to.
Without anyone’s notice, I peeped out of that room and walked into Damini’s garden. Her house was very much familiar to me. I sat in the swing facing the big garden of her house. As I swing back and forth, Sheron’s words started making sense to me.
I still cry at nights thinking about him. I am strong to the world, but I break down in front of my pillow. Life is never the same, after he left. I still see his last online timings. I still miss his voice. He left me with a part of me. I still fail to come to terms. He is accountable for my happiness then and now for the pains I am going through. WTF, I have made myself. Sheron today showed me the reality of my life.
                             I am lost
In the world
Of my own thoughts
And I want to escape
Into an unknown destination,
Where the buds-
Of my dreams,
Will bloom
To the fullest...
And I will not be a stranger
Anymore
Amidst known...

I knew it’s the time to change, to change my mind set. Dragging one’s past, wishing for a miracle, thinking of the same person day and night, carrying a fake smile, shouldering others who are going through the same is what my life is all about; I had enough. I took out my cell and texted, “Please forward me the itinerary and the trip details, I will join.”















Saturday 11 November 2017

Short story: Move On

11th Avenue is one of my favorite hangouts. I love the ambience, food and every small thing of the Cafe. The cafe is even the best place to go on a date with someone. The dim lights and the music make it more romantic. But the best part is the extension of the Cafe- a balcony sort of.  People generally sit there to booze and smoke,  while I love to see the beauty of Dighalipukhri as the night befalls.
This evening, I promise one of my friends to meet there. And as usual,  I reach on time while my friend is stuck somewhere in the traffic. As it is one of the crowded cafe in the city, so I think of at least booking a table for two. Unfortunately, I find no vacant place inside. So, I just pop in to check if there is any in the extended portion. I find none there too. Suddenly, my eyes catch a sight of a girl in the corner sitting alone and sipping her coffee. I walk up to her and politely ask her, "May I sit for some time until I find an empty table?"
She just nods. I smile at her and take a seat opposite to her. She completely ignores my presence and continues sipping her coffee. Her eyes fix on the door. Seeing her so restless,  I ask her if she is waiting for someone.
"Does it actually matter if I say yes or no?" she says bluntly.
I am a bit startled the way she reacted at my words.
So I choose to be silent.
She may be reading my face. So, she opens her mouth again giving me the shock I could ever apprehend.
"I am indeed waiting for someone who has asked me to move on. WTF move on,  when his memories lay scattered everywhere. You know, he asked me out on a date. He made me feel special. He made me fall in love with him. And now when I do,  he left. He said our horoscope did not match. Horoscope, do hell with it.  He lost interest and now he brought up this issue. Gosh! Stupid me. I wished I listened to my instincts. Tell me,  how to move on? This cafe and this particular corner,  I have been with him a few weeks back. Will this cafe move on? Bull shits. He might be dating someone with whom his horoscope had matched. But look at me, what  have I become?  Crying for him, wishing for a miracle. Never fall so in love with hopeless brats. Otherwise, one morning you will get up and realise that you have to go on a journey all alone waiting for the train you want to board. And unfortunately, the train will never arrive at your junction."
She put the coffee mug down and walk towards the exit without turning back once.
I sit there half shocked and half angry at my friend for being late.
Her words left me in a complete mess. I reach out my hand for my bag where I always carry a pen and a diary. I imagined what she could be probably thinking while sipping her coffee with her eyes fixed on the door. He and his memories, I thought.

                          I sat-
             With a cup of coffee
             In that corner-
             Where we sat,
             The last time we met...
                        I sat-
             Facing that chair
                      You sat,
             Reliving my past,
                      Or,  yours?
             I was not sure-
             As my past
             Still,  walked hand-in-hand,
             With my present...
                         I sat,
                 Sipping coffee,
                 All alone
                 In that busy cafe...
                          Thinking,
                How you changed?
                So fast,
                          Like the seasons...
                          Crushing the flower,
                That was about to bloom...
                            I sat,
               With my eyes fixed,
                            At the door -
               With a hope
                            That you would knock
                For you promised
                To spread
                The fragrance of the flower
                That you loved...
                But you peeped in
                Like the other day,
                Letting the flower
                To be blown away
                By the wind
                And you just walked away,
                Crushing the petals
                Of your favorite flower
                With your own steps...

And as I pen her thoughts, many questions ring in my mind. Can we actually forget someone so easily?  Are we able to forget our childhood days? Don't we remember the person whenever we check in to a restaurant with whom we came last time?  How can we move on?  How can people say just move on? I just want to ask don't  you have memories that cross  your memory lane in silence? If so, she is right...
Do comment below what you think... 

Wednesday 1 November 2017

Poem: Seasons


I wish
I can paint the pages
Of my life,
With different shades
Like the seasons;
For I want to feel
The change in me
That circles
The spring,
And reflects
I am alive
With ideas,
And I generate
Before the autumn steps,
With confidence and vigour,
And finally,
I taste success
And I go to rest
As the winter falls...

Poem: It's Winter

It's winter I feel now, As I lay down still Inside the blanket, My fingers shiver with cold, My eyes are swollen- Waiting for the...