Saturday, October 30

Dosti & Destiny


Giggle smirk giggle.

We ended up laughing over the silliest of things and the craziest of topics.

We made the most absurd statements and our imagination was anything but constructive.

Our observations and judgments about people and things would seem insane to a bystander, and yet we were in splits all the time.

We cracked up over nothing and we roared till their sides ached.

I have spent the funniest of my times till date with this boy…

Mature beyond his age, and caring beyond his years, this guy’s a gem. A real gem. The types that’s hard to come by. And once you meet them, you never meet another one like them again. You never forget them either. And their memory always brings a smile or a guffaw.

The number of movies we watched was notable. If I’m not mistaken, we watched a movie every Saturday and Sunday… and sometimes Fridays too if I got off work early. 2012 (where we encountered a gauche bloke who got mighty excited and voluble coz there was a power cut in the theatre), Karate Kid (where we laughed no end coz we heard daft words like “Shya Shya Pongya”, obviously something in Chinese/Japanese), and a host of others.

We had coffee almost every day at Coffee Stop, that small tapri at Model Colony which now commands an entire booth and has customers more numerous than some of the best coffee houses in town.

As we sat there discussing how our day had been and what our worries and dreams were, I realised that having him in my life was very special. A person as dependable and dedicated as him, as honest and protective, was a blessing. And more significant was the fact that he had come by at a very critical juncture in my life, when joys were few and challenges surrounded me in forms weird and daunting.

I met him at my previous organization, a place that I do not remember very fondly for varied reasons. However, if there was one saving grace, it was meeting him. We got along like a house on fire; no wonder people had doubts about our relationship status. That did not bother us; what we had was too special to be compromised just so that others kept their traps shut.

I’ve lost count of the number of jokes we cracked, mostly on him. Not once did he take offense or retaliate. I was the most natural when I was with him; I knew he understood what I said and meant, and that he wouldn’t misconstrue my intentions and words. He made me feel nice about myself, and he made me feel good in the ugliest circumstances.

I still remember the calmness on his face, giving me strength, when I desperately looked at him in a trying situation. He was always ready to lend a shoulder or ear (or anything else) without my asking him. He did not always say the right things, but his presence itself was so comforting, that I had no reason to complain.

He was my best friend… I wish I’d met him sooner.

My wish was his command and he was my genie. Be it food that I wanted to eat, places that I wanted to visit, things that I wanted to do, or stuff that I wanted to buy. He never said no. He looked up to me and I needed him. Not because I had no one else, but because he was like no one I had ever met before.

He made me laugh, and he was there when I cried. He travelled miles for me, and he took care of me when I was rendered incapable by body and mind.

I shouted at him and said the meanest things. Not because I wanted to hurt him, but because I felt upset that he did not understand what I wanted at that moment. I was so used to his knowing me inside out that it disappointed me when he fell short of the benchmark he’d set for himself.

But not once did he shout at me. Not once did he contest me and my right to be rude to him or punish him for no direct fault of his. He knew that I was acting under the influence of hurt or fury, and that once I had sorted or vented it, I would go back to cheerful old self that acted the age I was supposed to – be it a naughty, spontaneous kid or a responsible, sensible adult.

Sorry friend…

I’m thankful to you, in so many ways, you know that.

You’re very special… And I missed you, as a reliable buddy and jolly companion.

Good to have you back!!

- Princess

Tuesday, October 26

Trounced in Glory

I wander the world in a bid to escape the mundane,
But I’m always glad to return home and see who missed me,
Who smiles the widest,
And tells me I would never be allowed to take off again.

I tell you I don’t want to see you,
That my life would be much more uncomplicated and agreeable without you,
And all the while my heart is beseeching you to hold me,
And tell me you’ll never leave me.

I show that I don’t care,
I pretend to not mind things and portray myself a cool cat,
And I’m burning inside, wondering why they can’t see through my façade,
Despite knowing me.

I often have the last laugh,
I am a winner, and my perfection is admired and envied by most,
Yet there are occasions when I wish my acumen wasn’t repeatedly proven,
To see your amazed, proud face.

I love and care with all I’ve got,
I can make you feel blessed and lucky,
But I hope you to realize it’s not your prerogative,
It’s something I’m honoring you with, because I love you, deeply.

I shout when I want to cry,
I laugh when I want to scream,
I know when I’m not being treated right,
And if you think I can go on without objecting, aren’t you mistaken…

I’ll lie if it makes you happy,
But they’ll know the truth sooner or later,
Not coz I’m a bad liar,
But coz I’ll ensure my true opinions and feelings are known someday.

I know I behave odd at times,
I know I can be frustrating and crabby,
But tell me if it’s really that bad,
Coz if it is, then maybe my love isn’t good enough either.

You can’t want the convenience,
If my wants are so bothersome,
I’m the best one can ever have,
Too bad if you don’t know that, too bad if you’re waiting and expecting better.


I started off writing this as a love note,
To show how confused and duplicitous I can be,
But the moment my vulnerability was expressed, my ego came forth,
To protect my weakness, to stand guard over myself,
To show that no matter who comes forth to **** around, you’ll be vanquished.
No, you can’t win by defeating me, but we can win together.
We WILL win together.
I promise.


Friday, October 22

Thank God for the Twin Sisters

I’ve said this before, and I will say it again. Thank god for memory loss.

Add another point there. Thank god for adaptability.

Any guesses as to what would happen without these two blessings in our lives?

I’ll tell you.

(Obviously. The know-it-all loves the sound of her own voice and nothing turns her on like having her opinion heard and appreciated.)

(He he he.)

(Love pulling my own leg.)

(You better not do it.)

(In case you don’t know that yet.)

(Well… Let’s go back to the topic now, shall we, mixed-up, meandering, chatterbox?)

(That’s me, not you, baba.)

(Gosh, how much I yak.)


Right. So, it’s a wonderful capability that we tend to forget and we get used to people and things being or not being there.

I know it’s not amusing and enviable when we misplace something important, or when we can’t recall the name of someone that we bump into after a long time. It’s certainly not fortunate when companions start taking each other for granted, or when a best friend at work quits and moves to another employer.

But you know what? Both the above statements are true, common for all, and (to an extent) good for us.

Think about this. How would it be if you remembered every single incident that took place in your life? All the good, bad, ugly and routine ones. What use would it be if you recalled every single pimple and mark on the face of every single person you have ever met in your life? Your brain would be a filthy trove of useless data, or simply put, a heap of shit that doesn’t get flushed out.


So, don’t get mad when you can’t remember something. It happens to us all, even with the best of memories. (I used to belong to that category once, but then I started repressing too many memories, and now I’ve ended up like Ghajini Part 2. Not bothered. It’s good for me, and for all of you!)

By the way, just in case you didn’t know, I forgive, but I don’t forget. I’ll remember forever how you cracked a stupid joke at my expense and I didn’t find it one bit hilarious.

About the other good thing – adaptability – isn’t it miraculous that we adjust to new people and new surroundings? You can’t keep yearning till the end of time. People die, you miss them, you think life can’t go on without them. But it does. And thank god for it.

You think you’d never get used to a particular place or thing, and you do. It grows upon you, and you start appreciating it for what it is. It gives you something new to look forward to, and to learn – about yourself and others. However much we hate change, we all know it’s the one constant thing in our lives, and we do adapt when it comes our way. Be it a change in your vital stats that you grimace or blush, or a change in your paycheck that makes you smile or frown. We approve of change, though most of us wouldn’t admit it, either to ourselves or to others.

So what if you’re a bachelor who is afraid that his days of freedom are over once he gets married? True, there might be modifications in your expenditure, lifestyle and house that you may find inconvenient. You may have to change your habits and preferences in order to accommodate another human being in your life. But when you look at the big picture – a canvas where your entire life is being witnessed and supported by that one person you can depend on – it’s not that bad. So what if you’re not allowed to drink as much as you did before you wed her? So what if you have to miss your favorite show coz she wants to watch some melodramatic Bollywood movie? At least you know that she loves you, cares for you, and will never leave you. You may have bitter fights for the silliest of reasons, but you’ll never go to bed hungry and lonely…

So, you see, you adjust.

You forget your old memories, old girlfriends, old anxieties and sorrows.

Without these twin sisters, life would be a disaster.


And if you think you’re better off not forgetting and not adjusting, how about your wife not forgetting and not adjusting either?

Nope, being a bachelor till the end of time isn’t the solution.
However appealing it might appear for the time being.

Food for thought.

I sincerely remain,


Sunday, October 17

Happy Dussera!!

Greetings for the festive season, everyone!

I’m not very fond of any Indian festival per se, I find them all tremendously tiring. So, Diwali to me is cleaning up the house and entertaining unwanted guests, putting up with boisterous people bursting fire crackers at odd hours and deleting a hundred emails by hundreds of long-lost friends and acquaintances, most of you have no clue when you last met and how you figure in each others’ mailing lists.

Of course, I do enjoy the shopping bit and the myriad varieties of sweets :-)

However, I do understand (and hope) that I belong to the minority group in this country. (Somebody’s gotta carry on the traditions and nurture the culture, fellas!) As much as I find these occasions inconvenient, I know our culture would be poorer without them. I have nothing against those who celebrate with gusto and aplomb.

I am extremely amazed by the way Indians find something or the other to celebrate every few days and weeks. Be it Shiv Jayanti or Ambedkar Jayanti or any other occasion, Indians love to let their hair down and vent their vast reserve of enthusiasm and liveliness. Cheers to that! As long as you let me be. Each to his own, right?

Today is Dushera. The end of Navratri– the time when Goddess Durga is worshipped in her nine forms with fervor and devotion. The festival is synonymous with Garba and Dandiya Raas played across the world (considering that our brethren have migrated and settled in far-flung areas of the globe). It also is the period when Ram and Ravana battled long and hard, finally culminating with Ravan’s slaying on the day called Dassera or Vijaya Dashmi.

Before my garrulous and loquacious rambling takes another unpredictable direction, any guesses about the various forms of Shakti?

Well, here they are! Bhadrakali. Amba (also called Jagdamba), Annapurna, Sarvamangala, Bhairavi, Chandika (or Chandi, something that I have been often called by those at the receiving end of my anger and sharp tongue), Lalita, Bhavani and Mookambika – all forms taken by Durga for different purposes.

In order of celebrations, Durga is worshipped for the first three days, Lakshmi the next three, and Saraswati the final three. (Reminds me of the Mahalakshmi temple in Pune near Saras Baug. It has gorgeous idols of all three deities, and the place has a lovely aura. Must visit, in case you haven’t.)

Oh, and here’s a fantastic link in case you wana know more about customs and things related to Navaratri -

It’s really not funny the way most Indian youth have become westernized in thought and behavior. Not so long ago, we used to laugh about how the British need to call and ask for permission to visit, whereas Indians just barge into each others’ houses and make themselves comfortable, only to be received warmly by the host-by-force. Now it’s a reality in our country too! I don’t think I would be highly pleased if any friend or relative dropped in at my place for a holiday without informing me. I would want to be sure that I’m prepared to have them over, and also ensure that my chores and to-do’s are done. A lot of people I know would certainly agree with me. But do my parents think that way? A BIG NO. As far as they are concerned, Atithi Devo Bhava. Aptly portrayed in the Bollywood movie Atithi Tum Kab Jaoge.

Well, I guess that’s how society evolves. And I can’t say I’m sorry about it. I’m ok with the way I am, and I think respecting one’s own choices and accepting one’s own attitude is very important. I know I give my parents much grief when I don’t spare time for the guests, and I go about my own schedule and lifestyle without bothering to make a good impression on anyone and everyone – something that my parents and their peers swore to do (and were expected to) the day they were born.

The way I look at it, they pleased a lot of people.

But are they happy? I doubt it.

I’m sure that deep inside, somewhere, they want to be reckless and blasé, a desire enveloped so expertly by their own self that most would themselves not be aware of it.

As I said, each one to his own.

So, where’s the Dandiya Raas tonight?!!


Tuesday, October 12

Ordained By Order

Did I tell you I read Eat, Pray and Love (referred to as EPL henceforth on my blog) by Elizabeth Gilbert? It’s a fantastic book, guys. I mean girls.

(Guys may or may not like it for the simple reason that the genders think, feel and expect differently. And more often than not, the sexes just LOVE being on opposite sides of the discussion. Sometimes only to prove that they are unlike each other, and can never be like each other. Fair enough reason.)

(Or so I presume.)

Anyway, back to EPL. (Not European Premier League, you nutcase! I TOLD YOU the book Eat, Pray, Love would now onwards be called EPL. Pretty forgetful, aren’t you?!)

I had heard a lot about it, and I finally bought it at the Crossword sale not too many weeks ago. Alongwith P.S. I Love You. I planned to enjoy both the books, and I was hoping they lived up to expectations. In fact, I’d heard the movies are good, too. What is my verdict? The books are both decent. The movie PS is bad, it honestly disappointed me, coz I had a beautiful image of all the characters in the movie right from Gerry and Holly to Daniel and William and Ciara. Paani over all my creative visualization. EPL, now that it’s released in India, is thankfully much better. It does justice to the book, though there are some bits that drag, and other places that have been grossly misconstrued, edited or deleted. Chalta hai, it's not bad.

While reading EPL, there were so many times when I thought I was reading my own biography! Especially the paragraphs when the protagonist feels she has control issues, her tryst with depression and loneliness, her random insights and careless abandon, little joys coupled with frustrating worries and sorrows. And of course, Italian abuses and words that gave me impromptu laughs and supplementary vocabulary! Damn, I so miss learning Spanish / Salsa. Have been thinking of it for ages, but procrastinating… Waiting for a partner, dealing with a busy schedule, stuff like that… Soon soon…

What’s the book about? It’s the story of a woman who travels Italy, India and Indonesia over the period of a year in order to put back the pieces of her life marred and scarred by a divorce and broken relationship. I know it doesn’t sound too innovative, but the narration is superb and mesmerizing.

I’m not gonna recommend it to you, though, coz I have a feeling that I have liked it more than you would. It’s like those movies, you know, where your evaluation of the entertainment quotient is impacted by the reviews you have heard before. So, I was sure Housefull was going to be a disaster, and voila, I loved it! On the other hand, I had heard that Peepli Live was transfixing – guess what, I hated it. So what if it’s an Aamir Khan production?!! So what if its chosen as India’s nomination to the Oscars?!!

Now that I have introduced EPL, I’d like to take my identification with it and my last post on the blog a step ahead.

About reasons, and how we may or may not know about their logic or existence.

I always enjoy sitting next to the driver while going for long drives. I do have my driver’s license, yet I don’t practice driving – much to the chagrin of my brother and mum.

Why am I telling you this? To let you know that I like being NOT in control, and leaving all the decisions and responsibility to someone else who is intelligent and capable. Makes me feel pampered and relaxed. Not having to worry about the brakes, traffic, accelerator, clutch, reversing and parking. Just look around at the people and trees zooming past, enjoying the breeze on my face, with my arm strung casually on the window ledge...

However, I’m just as quick to give up my passivity and assume control when required. Leadership roles beckon me, and I love them for granting me the opportunity to prove myself, protect and guide people, take risks and learn, garner praise and envy.

Well, backseat driving is horrible when I’m steering a vehicle, but impossible to give up when I’m sailing on anyone else’s ship. Change lanes, speed up, show off or get cranky – and you’ll hear from me, Mr. Driver.

WHY am I telling you this?

To tell you that I have control issues. Things have almost ALWAYS gone my way. I have made my own decisions, done my own thing and taken care of my own challenges. Be it education, career, relationships, or anything else. And that has naturally made me resistant to being dependent and dominated. In a woman, this is often not appreciated. But hey, that’s how I am. I don’t know about Nature (genetics), but Nurture (environment and experiences) made me that way.

Yet, I can think of so many things that did not go my own way. For example, the numerous universities that denied me MBA admission, a few companies that rejected me at job interviews, relationships with friends that did not work out, family not allowing me to go ahead with some plans...

And you know what, I am so glad life turned out the way it did. (Though I didn’t always think this way.)

Never had I imagined that I’d be a trainer when I grew up, working at IBM, with a family as supportive and fun, and friends as amazing as I have.

Thank you, Lord.

Now I think about it all, and I can’t be grateful enough that all these things occurred, with or without my volition. Then, I fought with god, people and circumstances. But now I understand. Things are not always clear at first glance. Things don’t always look right when you’re in the midst of muck. But when you step out and think about it in retrospect, you will realize that things happened for the best.

(Unless you really messed up big time and made a mistake that’s irredeemable.)

Don’t get disoriented and distressed because of the blur. Give the haze time to fade. (But don’t wait so long that all ways to set things right are lost; time is of the essence, remember?)

I mean if I’d got selected at this particular consulting firm, IBM would have been a distant dream. Had I joined some US university for an MBA, I would not have met the people that I hang out with and cherish day in day out now. If my family had been any different, I might have not made the choices and decisions I made.

So what if it’s a cliché? Its true - whatever happens, happens for the best.

And you may not always understand or agree with the reason, but hey… wait and watch, you’ll turn out fine.

Trust me.


Friday, October 8

Random Reasons

I can’t stop wondering about how all of us are weird.

Yeah, I guess all of human race is, without exception, unusual and peculiar.

I mean, we are more or less alike in the way we come into this world and leave it, and we all experience a similar set of emotions, and every one of us has a bunch of habits and activities that are relatively comparable.

And yet, we are all so different. All of us don’t like the same things or people, and even those that we do, we have different reasons for liking or disliking.

… Oddly enough, sometimes, there are no reasons for liking or disliking.

For example, I never quite figured out why I like the Bollywood flick 15 Park Avenue. Those that have seen it might recall it for different reasons - the theme, cast or acting. Most folks wouldn’t have seen it, so leme give you a brief overview of the plot.

The film revolves around a schizophrenic Meethi (Mitali, played by the fantastic Konkona Sensharma) and her doting elder sister Annu (Anjali, played by the lovely Shabana Azmi) and how Meethi’s delusions wreak havoc on Annu’s life and emotions. There’s also Waheeda Rehman, Shefali Chhaya and Rahul Bose who play minor characters, but the movie belongs hands down to the two female leads.

I won’t give out the climax here, just in case you feel curious enough to check out the film for yourself. (I don’t know if I’ve already written this review in the past; must have, considering I write about everything in my life on my blog!) However, I will definitely tell you that the end left me feeling very anxious and baffled. I am a practical and organized person, not entirely innovative and spontaneous. I expect things to be a certain way. One such expectation is that movies ought to have clear endings. When 15 Park Avenue closed on a mystifying note, I was left restless and incomplete.

I still remember how desperately I was trying to reach a conclusion, with Deepti finishing the last of the popcorn beside me, when the curtains went down at the E-Square screen. She gave me a hypothesis fiercely beautiful and stunningly original, I was gasping for air. (Damn! That woman can REALLY think out of the box. Good thing she is in advertising. A blessing to her industry, she is.)

Coming back to the topic, there’s nothing too WOW about this production. There have been other films with far better storylines and more incredible actors. Yet, I can’t stop myself from feeling a funny sense of partiality towards this film, and an irrepressible desire to watch it anytime it comes on TV. And I enjoy it every single time. Don’t ask me why.

The point being… there are occasions when individuals like things and people for no reason, and the same goes for not liking someone/something.

I won’t deny that I keep asking everyone for reasons for everything under the sun, and I coax them to explore if they aren’t sure of the reason. That is because I think they are being too lazy to think and express, or maybe they aren’t utilizing their brains and emotions as much as they are capable of. And yet, I know, that sometimes there is JUST NO REASON.

Like the other day when I went to Bounties (Bounty’s? whatever it is - the beer/wine and sizzler joint near Gold Adlabs, Kalyani Nagar) and I was so drawn to this golden Labrador that I couldn’t resist touching him even as I was grabbing some grub.

Now most of you would find nothing strange about this, but if you know me, then you know this is REALLY notable. I think I have OCD (which stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) – a condition where you fret about seemingly simple things and you make certain actions an involuntary yet forceful habit.

My silly habit is that I have to wash my hands after I touch anything, so I avoid touching things. And I’m not talking about only stuff like shoes and body parts. I mean ANY thing. So, I touch a button on the elevator and I go wash my hands when I get off on the floor. I prefer not shaking hands with most people, as I am not certain about where those hands have been. I’ll touch my own hair/clothes at times, and rush to the wash basin just in case…

(Yes, I WILL wash my hands after I type this article, coz this keyboard has passed under other fingers before, you see.)

Sorry for digressing. So, at Bounty, I was digging into my not-so-great sizzler (I prefer Yana anyday, or Kobe second-best), and this big, handsome Lab comes right to my chair and settles down with his back to me. I looked at it once. It looked VERY appealing. I looked away out of habit. One, I was eating food and his lice/fur just might get into my veggies. Two, if I touched him, I would have to keep that hand at arm-length distance till I could use the washroom.

I didn’t look back for exactly a minute, hoping that the dog had felt bored and ignored and gone off. No sirree. He was right there, sitting in the exact same inviting posture. Almost daring me, luring me, with a “I know you wanna touch me, I know you cannot resist me, give in to the pleasure now, you know you can’t hold out against me too long, I’m just too sexy for you to control yourself” kinda way.

And I gave in.

As I merrily combed my hands through his soft, golden fur, I suddenly was overcome with a rush of love and joy. Never before had I felt such a strong sense of peace and bonding, trust even, with any living thing, forget an animal. It was like I’d finally realized what destiny had brought me to this restaurant for. To understand how much I needed a (real) dog in my life. To comprehend how imperfect my life was without this loyal friend and companion.

I’ve seen pets before, and I’ve always interacted with them in a politely distant fashion. It’s a “hey, I don’t detest you, but I don’t like you too much either, so keep your paws off me” style, which doesn’t really keep the mutt off me, but makes the owner realize and yank him off. THIS dog took my breath away, and made me feel at home. It was like Moksha – the perfect state of being. Or not being. The thing that Yoga and the Bhagwada Gita talk of.

(Sorry, God. No offense. Merely an attempt to describe my experience as effusively as possible.)

We sat there quietly, the dog and I (and the folks I was dining with, obviously, though I’d forgotten they were there with me). I felt like I was in a bubble with the animal, and nobody could touch what we were sensing and feeling. Any other person or word within that bubble would be an intrusion. The dog stayed still as I moved my fingers over his head and back, and we were as snug and serene as friends who’ve known each other a zillion years.

When I (and the dog) finally came out of our shared reverie, I went back to my food and the dog slouched off to a corner. We were physically apart but our minds were still connected. How do I know this? Because he sauntered past me a few times, checking to see if I recognized him, and I spoke to him each time, once even ordering him to sit down coz I wanted to stroke him some more and he gladly obliged. Couldn’t be a coincidence, right? I’ve got witnesses if you’d care to check.

Rocky. I think that’s what his master was calling him.

I’d call him Whisky.

(I didn’t think of this name, to be frank, but someone very close to me did, and the name fit like a hand in a glove that very instant.)

And that very instant I decided I would have a golden Labrador in my house. Sooner or later. But definitely.

To hell with all my concerns about dog health and dog poop.
To hell with my reservations about fur allergies and child hazards.
To hell with my fears about the who and how and what.

I’m getting a dog. For sure.

So that I can sit and pet him and feel like home all life long.

Something warm and fuzzy under my fingers.
Someone to sit quietly with and feel like monarch of the universe.
Somehow to love and feel loved unconditionally.

No other reason.

Waiting to welcome you home Whisky.
As soon as I figure out who’s gonna do the poop-cleaning and vet-visits.


Monday, October 4

First Love… All Over Again

He was in a frenzy. There was so much to do. She was coming over for the first time and he wanted it to be perfect. Even after the maids had finished cleaning, he went over every inch of his house to check if everything was in order. He put the CDs he wanted her to hear in the player, and tossed a fresh sheet over the mattresses. He felt like a teenager eager to show off his niceness to his first girlfriend.

The beer went into the fridge and the flowers in a vase. The house looked spic and span. He’d already spoken to all his friends and other expected callers so that they would not disturb when he was with her.

He loved her. He loved her beyond words could explain. He couldn’t explain it to himself. This tingling and excitement he felt each time he saw her. The anticipation he experienced when he was about to call or hold her. It wasn’t like he had never had a woman before. But this time, it just felt so different…


She scratched her chin as she looked into her wardrobe. Casual or chic? Sexy or simple? She didn’t want to give him wrong impressions. She didn’t want him to not notice her looks either.

She dove into the bottom shelf and came up with a dress. Not too striking, not too plain. She could be herself, and she could test what he thought. Hmm. Good idea.

Tring Ring.

“Hey I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Cool, I’ll be waiting.”

See you baby.”

Take care.”

Gosh, she felt so special. His words and his charm blew her away.

It was true that she had not planned any of this. But she also knew that she was not completely helpless either. She had known he wanted to approach her. She could have turned him away. But she hadn’t. She didn’t want to. Why… she did not know. Maybe because she thought he was honest, responsible and caring. Maybe because she imagined she could like him. Maybe she’d found a person who wouldn’t hurt or disappoint her.


Hiiii… I’m here”

“I’ll be down in a moment.”

She walked to him. He looked at her. They smiled.

Sometimes life was just perfect.

And sometimes it got even better than that.


Friday, October 1

Parallel Lives

The louder Emily laughed, the clearer the glistening tears in her eyes became. The more she talked about her merry life, the more obvious it was that she was sad. She came with new bruises and limps every day, and nobody believed when she said it was a rash or an accident.

Jemima was divorced. She gave the impression of being an extremely easygoing, content female. However, the stories doing the rounds proclaimed her an out and out loser; they proclaimed her a pushover trying to get close to any and every guy who would allow her to get intimate. Her overfriendliness made her appear suspicious and the girls were wary of her sharp tongue and hypocritical temperament. They couldn’t really decide whether she was more cunning than dumb, but either way, it didn’t matter.

Ross was going around with a chic from work, but they could not make their relationship public. Several reasons. They managed to hang around now and then and steal a few kisses when no one was looking. Yet he knew he was committed to Mysha like he had never been before. She made him feel alive. She made him feel serene and secure. He wanted to be with her for life. And he knew he would not rest until she was his forever.

Mike knew something was cooking between Ross and Mysha but he couldn’t be sure. Ross was a good friend, and he had denied any connection with the new girl in the team. Mike didn’t know her really well, and besides, he was enjoying a no-holds-barred affair with Jemima. He definitely didn’t love her, and as far as he knew, neither did she. Worked well for both of them. But it had been a while now since they had caught up. Maybe he would call her that night…

The clock struck 3. It was time to log in. Jemima was late as usual, not that anyone would notice. She had hardly slept the previous night thanks to a late night shift and a special late night guest…

Ross tossed around in bed. He was annoyed with the never-ending stream of visitors. The maids, neighbors, security, postman… Wrecked his sleep… He wondered if Mysha had reached work.
“Hey Myshu. I miss you.”

Mysha, sitting at her workstation, smiled when she read the SMS. Here was a kind of guy she never thought she would date, and yet she had felt drawn to him right since day one. She couldn’t point out any one reason for feeling that way, but it all began when he asked her for her phone number. That same night he had messaged – “At the risk of sounding totally stupid and absolutely ridiculous, I would really like to get to know you better.” And she had replied – “There’s nothing ridiculous about that! I would love to…” The rest was history… A tornado of emotions and a bouquet of experiences had ensured that they both soon became inseparable. In fact, they had come as close as to…

Ding dong. Her reverie was interrupted by Emily’s flashing chat icon.

“ How are you hon?

“Hey Em, I’m doing good. How about you?”
“I’m fine, baby. Wanna go for a break? Let’s grab a coffee.”
“Sure. I’ll see you in ten at the cafetaria.”

Mike got into his car and checked if he was carrying his I-card. Yup, it was there. With his faded picture and the moustache that Jemima had drawn one drunken night when they were together.
“Jemmy, can we meet at my place tonight? Reply soon. Mike.”

The day had begun.


Dream last night

I dreamt of you last night. I know I dreamt of you last night. I don't know why I dreamt of you last night. In my dreams, you were at my...