‘I didn’t mean to tear apart his earlobe!’ I said to my cousin.
‘Oh comeon! You continuously hit him right on his ear!’ He said, reminding me that it was me who was in trouble, yet again.
‘So, what do we do now?’ I asked my cousin who was equally terrified.
‘Let’s go to Nowshera I say, without telling anyone. There would be no way for them to know we are there. Dada doesn’t have a telephone at his home’, he said.
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
I was getting ready for college when my uncle called from the hospital. She was no more. I didn’t know whether to feel sad that she has died or to feel happy that she has died at last. The news of her death wasn’t shocking to us but her loss was unacceptable. She was only 70. She was a cancer patient. She was a cancer survivor for the most part of her life. She, my grandmother, my mother’s mother was a woman of substance, and she was a woman I hadn’t spoken to nicely in a long time.
I had visited the hospital just two days ago. She was put on life support system. I didn’t agree with the idea of putting her on a life support system. She wasn’t conscious. The doctors too had told us already to take her home and wait till she breathes her last. She was a fighter, and so were her children. They chose not to give up yet, they chose to fight against the disease that was enjoying the destruction of organs. Her children decided to make it easier for her to leave. They didn’t want her to wither away in pain. One by one, her tissues started to fail. Liver stopped responding, kidneys stopped performing, lungs gave way, but she, somehow, thrived on. Continue reading
“Hauz Khas”, Varun said to the auto driver and the auto started to make its way through the busy road of Green Park market. He checked his watch, though there was no sense in checking the time. Time was of no importance today. He had reached Delhi a few hours ago and it had been along and tiring journey. The weather was very bad over Pakistan and nobody on the plane could sleep because of the heavy turbulence.
Varun had been waiting impatiently for this journey to happen. For the last two years, he had been living in self exile, voluntarily disconnecting himself from everybody for the sake of a dream which had grown so big that it became impossible for him to keep it hidden from unwanted people in his family and friend circle. He decided to leave the country, leave behind everybody, including his love, Divya. Continue reading
“Dude, they started again!” whispered Sahil, making a gesture to come over to both Raaghav & Gautam.
Gautam went near the window to hear what was happening. Raaghav just shook his head and continued trying to study despite the loud voices coming from the neighbouring apartment. It was an everyday routine. Raaghav had no interest in listening to what allegations were being made this time. He plugged in his ear phones and allowed A R Rahman to take over his senses.
On the other side of the wall, Chirag & Nandini were having an usual evening. Chirag had forgot to bring something from the list of groceries Nandini handed him in the morning while leaving for work. Now, all of a sudden, that one missed thing had become the most important ingredient in whatever Nandini had to cook for dinner. After the argument, Chirag left the apartment, banging the door close behind him. Continue reading
I had never been to a graveyard in my life before. It was my uncle’s death anniversary. I didn’t know him much but I felt a connect, a strange connect when I stood beside his grave. The news of his death last year was shocking. No one expected that this would happen. Not even my uncle would have imagined his death. I wasn’t at the burial last year but as I stared at the ground, blank faced, I could imagine a clear picture as to how it would have been. There is no shedding of tears right now. The faith that we will meet him soon makes my heart smile. That’s mere faith that comes with hope. Hope to meet him soon and faith that our hopes would turn out to be true one day. I was engulfed in utter silence. Nobody had anything to share. I wonder how my uncle felt when he breathed his last breath. A second before leaving this world, what exactly he would have felt? Guilt? Regret? That he couldn’t live his life a little longer? My uncle was a filthy rich man. I think regret could have been an emotion he felt at that particular moment. What about the thought of leaving his wife and only son? Does a person before dying think about himself and his present condition? Does he ponder upon the fact that in a matter of seconds he will be no more? Or does he think about the plight of the people he will be leaving behind? No book, no individual on Earth has got this opportunity to write how he or she felt when they died. Continue reading