The windows were huge and without curtains. It didn’t go with the design of the room, as if the glass panes were added later to an extra large balcony. There wasn’t much of a view though, the window faced towards the waterfall that dried up decades ago. The media had tried to cover the news with much curiosity but the old man, the owner of the estate, threatened to sue anyone who tried to take photos of it. Continue reading “The Selection”
The pressure was unbearable. It felt as if everything will crush into nothing. I raised my head and looked around only to see thousands of heads swarming in every direction. Everyone was pushing forward. I tried to remember what happened, how I got there but couldn’t recall anything. All I had was this unexpected and unimaginable situation to deal with.
Where was everyone going? Why was everyone eager to leave? Continue reading “The Island”
Summer of April is always better than the summer of May and the latter is always better than summer of June. Summer of July is worst, it burns the synthetic fabric which then melts and gets stuck to the vest and leave its colour there, like a stamp of authority, as if the vest belongs to the shirt, as if the shirt forgets who’s its master for a while in the heat of the sun.
There’s a reason why cotton is costlier than synthetic, it minds its own business, doesn’t interfere in anyone else’s business, doesn’t get attached to any other fabric. Cotton is the buddha of the fabric universe. Continue reading “God of Sparrows”
If Ranjeet had learnt one lesson in the last two years, it was that being single was better than being a single father.
What a world of difference it made to have a child to take care of. He had not foreseen it. He had imagined an easy life for himself. He fell in love, got married, they had Sejal and the family felt complete. Then it all fell apart. The arguments began to turn into dirty quarrels and once in a while one or the other had a visible proof of it.
She asked for divorce. He asked for Sejal. They contested and he won on the grounds that she had no job and hence no source of income to take care of their child. She cursed him while signing the divorce papers.
May you rot in hell. Continue reading “Pressure”
The evening wind ruffled through the vineyard and blue sky appeared in patches from between the green leaves. Ashish spotted a brown leaf and clipped it off instantly. A garden is the soul of a house and a well maintained garden beautifies the exterior of a house like nothing else. It also portrays that there lives a responsible family in the house, if not a happy one. Continue reading “The Garden”
Marriages are tough to manage and if it is an Indian marriage, God be with you. Aniket was looking for his one chance since morning to kiss Kaajal whereas she had kept herself busy with something or the other, and necessarily so. Managing the wedding of your younger sister is no small task. Each and every relative has to be given the highest level of importance or else the taunts shall be made at the poor wedding planning for at least a decade. In some cases, those were the kids of the couple getting married who grew up enough to tell the grown-ups to stop acting childish. Kaajal didn’t want to be blamed for anything. She was making sure every guest was well fed because, logically, that is what Indian weddings are all about. Continue reading “Kiss of Love”
Sundays had rebelled from being an epitome of togetherness. The thought of spending a Sunday alone dreaded Javed so much that even on Saturdays, which were half days at work for him, he would sit in his office till six, waiting for Roohneet to finish her work and meet him up on her way back to her home.
They were together from more than two years, and yet they were continuously discovering each other’s angels and devils. The relationship had had its share of howls and grunts to make them habitual of each other’s ability of loving and hurting each other at times. Continue reading “420 Minutes”
‘Bhenchod! This shutter gets stuck only at the time of bohni!’ grunted Chandan, trying to roll up the shutter of his shop, ‘and this Raju is of no use as well. I’ve been continuously telling him to get it repaired! Madarchod, all he wants is to smoke beedis, that’s all!’
Even at the age of sixty, Chandan had never been a minute late than six o’ clock in the morning to open his shop of medical supplies in Nauroji Nagar market. Opening the shop earlier than everyone provided him an extra edge over the other chemists near Safdarjung hospital or even the ones in front of AIIMS. Doctors at both the hospitals were aware of Chandan’s routine of opening his shop earlier than usual, therefore most of the midnight patients were told to buy medicines from his shop. Continue reading “Bohni*”
The problem was not that she was about to deliver a baby, the problem was that she was unmarried. Though being unmarried and delivering a baby is not a crime in the eyes of law, but it is one of the most heinous crimes in the eyes of society in India. The crime becomes a little more intolerable when the woman who is unmarried and about to deliver a baby comes from a lower caste of the society. In such a case, everyone gets to say something about the vulgarity and unacceptability of the act. I wonder at times, if it is encoded in our genes to reproduce in order to make sure the survival of our species, why does the act of reproduction, be it having sex without marriage or delivering a baby without being married, happen to be such a big taboo if it is not performed by the consent of the family members or the society?
Bindiya’s case was a little different. Even before Bindiya could figure out what was wrong with her, she was three months pregnant. Sulakshana, her mother, took her to a local dispensary when Bindiya complained of missing her periods for the third time in three consecutive months. Continue reading “Motherhood”
Prabhat turned off the alarm before it was about to went off three minutes later. He was awake from quite a long time. He looked at Sarita, she was deep in her sleep, unaware of her husband looking at her. Her face had grown dull over the last few years, specially after she gave birth to twins three years ago. Gayatri & Savitri, he had named his twin daughters. Both of them were like sparkling gems in his otherwise darkened life.
Though, it wasn’t as dark four years ago as it was not, when the future looked promising to him and life seemed full of countless possibilities. Moreover, all the dreams were turning to reality. He married Sarita out of his own choice and with his family’s nod, he had a good job in the gulf, he had saved good amount of money and he hoped life will take on to a new course once Sarita would join him in the gulf. But unaware of the future, the course he hoped to take became a curse for him. Lady luck didn’t shine on him. He lost his job and joined a property consultant’s office where he had to work harder than ever to meet up with monthly expenses. Sarita declared she was pregnant three months after he brought her to gulf. She was still jobless. The worst of all, she didn’t want to go back. She wanted to stay with him. Continue reading “The Millionaire”