Fairy Anu

THE PATH TOWARDS NORTH

2014-04-23T03:18:00.001-07:00

“Mom, why did you give away my boots? You know how much I love them.”

“But they don’t fit you anymore.”

“So what? This is why dad left you alone.”

She stared at me for a moment and then turned away. I knew I shouldn’t have said it but I was so angry.

My dad left us when I was five. It’s been ten years now. My mom and I never talk about him. I have no idea where he is today, whether he is alive or not. But one thing is sure, the world is cruel! This is why I didn’t understand when mom kept on donating things to the charity. When my own father can abandon, why worry about the people around. The world if full of selfish people, people who do not care anymore, people…… self-minded demons. I’m one of these people.

I took my back pack and rushed out. I didn’t want to yell at my mom so I thought I should take a ride alone. I paddled my bicycle towards the north. The City Park is some six kilometers away and that was where I was heading towards to.

Suddenly ---

My bicycle turned all wiggly. I stopped.

“Stupid! Who is the devil owner of this stupid nail?! Now I’ve to get this flat tyre fixed.”

I was still walking forward, pushing my bicycle when I heard a bike honking. It halted in front of me.

“Hey boy! Looks like your cycle broke down. I’ve my repair shop nearby. I can have a look at it.”

“No, thank you.”

“May be I can give you a ride---“

“NO! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

About ten minutes later, I reached the bus stop. Just beside it was a repair shop. The man from earlier was there, working.

“It’s flat tyre. Get it fixed. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“I will get it done.” he smiled as he said this.

“So, it’s you- the devil.”

“Huh?”

I didn’t stop there any longer. The bus moving to the City Park had arrived. As I was trying to board the bus, a young boy was helping his grandfather get on the bus. I took the seat opposite to them.

“Sir, what is your name? And where are u headed to?” the young boy asked the old man whom I thought was his grandfather.

I paid no heed to the rest of their conversation.

“This boy must be trying to steal something from the old man.” I thought to myself.

I closed my eyes and drifted away.

A while later, the bus conductor shouted, “City Park!”

I got down. As I strolled, I could see a woman and a little boy who were sitting on a park bench. Immediately, I recognized the stitch I made on my boots. I sat next to the boy.

“Ma’am, he is your son?”

“Yes, he is my son. I’ve been taking care of him since the day he arrived at our orphan center. He is physically challenged.” She replied.

“Where did you buy his boots? It’s cool.” I asked because I wanted to be sure.

“A special boy gifted you, didn’t he, Tomba?”

Tomba just giggled away. And I smiled. At that moment, I felt a warm rush in my body.

Later that afternoon, I boarded a bus to go back home. It was a crowded one and I didn’t manage to get a seat. An old man was standing too.

“Excuse me, but can you please give him your seat?” I said to the man sitting.

“I’ve a long way to go.”

“You can have my seat.” The boy beside him said. “It’s okay father. I won’t be tired.” He said to the man.

Finally, the man stood up and gave his seat to the old man.

I reached my stop. I got down and rushed to the cycle repair shop.

“I’ve repaired it. You can take it.”

“How much do I need to pay?”

“Go home. Your parents must be worried.” Saying this he got back to work.

I didn’t know what to do. How was I supposed to leave just like that without paying him a penny? But the shop owner was so stubborn. He wouldn’t even listen to me.

“Thank you.” I said.

As I rode my bicycle, I thought to myself “I know how I can always pay him back.”

I raced with the wind. As I got back home, I rushed to my mom. I was silent for a moment.

“Where did you go? You must be starving!”

“Tomba has my boots. I’m glad he has it.”

“Who is Tomba?”

I just smiled.

My mom…….she is my mom.

The shop owner is a very good person. That child has a heart of gold. Tomba is a wonderful kid and is in the hands of that selfless woman. That son will be a great man.

And I’m a changed man.

Little things can change one’s life forever. The path I chose that day has changed me to what I’m today. I take care of my mom, people around me and the world. One can always repay good deeds and kindness with kindness.

“Kindness like grain, increases by sowing.”

Hic! Hic! Responsibility?

2014-01-28T02:45:00.002-08:00

for Susmita

for Gowri

for Priyanka

for Roohi

The million dollar phone!!!

20 minutes –

15 minutes –

5 minutes –

I kept on scribbling on the top corner of my notebook.

“What are you writing?” Naomi hissed.

I turned towards her and grinned, “The countdown to lunch break!”

4 and 3 and 2 and 1 and 0!!

“Why is the professor still in class?” I grunted.

-1 and -2 and -3 and -4 and

“Thank you class!” the professor said this and left.

I quickly packed my bags.

“Come, let’s go! I said.

“No way! Not again, we are going there and spy on him.”

“But he is cute.”

“Young lady, you go and spy your prince. I’ll go and meet my prince.”

I laughed out loud,” Oh yeah! Food!” As I said this, I quickly ran away, out of her sight.

“Don’t forget we have a test after lunch break.” I heard her shout behind me.

I headed towards the broadcasting room. Yes, he was there. And as usual I was moving forth and back, taking short glances through the partially opened door.

Jason, final year student from the Operations Department, RJ of the campus radio.

“Excuse me?”

I turned back. It was Jason. Was he talking to me? I turned sideways. There was no one around. I pointed my finger towards me and I found it very silly doing that. Of course, he was talking to me. I didn’t realize that I was turning all red.

“Would you please do me a favor?” he asked. In his hand was a wireless land line phone.

All I could do was nod.

“I was waiting for an official call for which I have to take down messages, but something came up…..”

“So you want me to wait for the call?”

“I would be so elated. But I’m sorry that I can’t let you inside the broadcasting room. You see, it’s out of bounds. So can you do it in the next, empty classroom?”

I nodded again. He handed me the phone. He, then, locked the door. “Thank you so much! I owe you one.” He said this and left.

I was sitting in the empty class waiting for “the” call.

“What am I doing?” I said to myself.

I kept on tapping my fingers on the table and suddenly realized that I had a class test the next hour. I was relieved that I had the study materials saved in my mobile phone. I was going through it when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is Jason around?” It was a lady’s voice at the other end.

“Errr- no, who is this speaking?”

“I’m Jason’s mom. I can’t reach his phone.”

“I’ll tell him that you called.”

CLICK! Beeppp----beeeppp----beepp

“I should have taken his number.” I thought and smiled.

I opened my study materials again. I was going through it and I was going through it. Suddenly, the time at the top corner of my mobile phone caught my attention. I had five minutes till the next class-YES CLASS TEST!

I rushed out. The broadcasting room was still locked. I was pacing up and down.

“What do I do? What do I do?”

I checked my watch again- Four minutes. I rushed to the common room near the broadcasting room.

“NO! I cannot take responsibility for the phone,” the man in charge of the common room said in an irritated way.

I was back pacing up and down again. The dean who was on his rounds saw me.

“What happen? Why are you moving around with that phone?”

“Sir, I have to return back the phone to the broadcasting room but the room is locked. And I have a class test now. Sir, can you please take the phone?”

“Oh! Sorry, you took the phone. I cannot take responsibility for it. Make sure you return it.” He said this and left.

I was so frustrated. No one was ready to take responsibility for the stupid phone. I didn’t even know when Jason was coming back. A Janitor came to me and told me it was time for class.

“I know. Ten minutes have passed. You will return back the phone to the broadcasting room? “

I didn’t know what to do so I asked him.

“I cannot, girl!”

“Stupid Jason! No, stupid phone.”

I returned back to the class with the phone. The test had already started. I took a pen from Naomi and went to the last unoccupied desk. I kept the phone inside the cabinet and before I closed it, I made sure the receiver was open.

After a while, the phone rang. I was so startled and petrified. Everyone turned and looked at me. I gave them a What-did-I-do look. The professor just smiled. I was wondering how the phone rang when the receiver was open.

I kept on exchanging looks with Naomi when the phone rang again. That time, the whole class laughed and turned at me again. I was turning red. I was boiling with anger.

“This too shall pass.” I thought.

After about five calls, I stood up.

“Excuse me, Sir, but I have to take the call.”

“Hello! May I talk to Jason?”

“Sorry! Wrong number.”

BAMPP-

I placed the receiver hard.

The first thing I did as the class got over was I took the phone and rushed out. Naomi caught up with me. As we neared the broadcasting room, we saw Jason along with a group.

I handed him the phone.

“Thank God! I was about to make a complaint that the phone has been stolen.”

“Huh!!”

I didn’t bother to explain what exactly happened.

“Oh yeah! I got two messages for you- one, your mom called and second, you will probably never get your important call again.” I said bluntly.

He was confused but I turned and walked out with Naomi.

“You will not come back again, I reckon?” Naomi asked.

“You are crazy. Why won’t I?”

“But he did this to you!”

“It was the stupid phone’s fault. No one didn’t want to take responsibility for it. You see, it’s a million dollar phone.” I winked as I said this.

Definitely a million dollar phone!

Pocketed Faith

2013-02-15T06:49:00.002-08:00

This story is a complete fiction. Some characters may bear resemblance with true persons.

It was Miss Kavita’s class.

“God! We have to learn by heart this lesson again?” Anil said.

Well Anil is my classmate, desk mate and yes my best friend. Anil loves complaining. That day he had something to complain about the whole day----Miss Kavita had asked the whole class to learn the new poem she taught during that class.

“7-A!!! no noise!!”

“You know what, Malem?” Anil said in a hushed tone.

“What?”

“Each time she shouts, she sends chills down my spine.” Anil said in a hushed tone.

“Errr….not exactly. She sends chills down the spine of the class” I replied trying hard not to laugh.

Tringgggggggg…....

The class jumped with joy. There are two bells the whole students like: the recess bell and the final-class-over bell.

“dhanyabad guruji” 7-A said loudly in chorus.

The girls went crazy running around with their lunch boxes.

Well, there were few boys who brought lunch boxes. And I thought it was really sissy for boys to do something like that. We are the cool boys and cool boys don’t need lunch packs. Our favorite recess spot is the top floor stairs.

The day dragged on. The last period went by so quickly. As we were heading towards the school main gate, there were two girls in front of us who were discussing about the next day’s homework.

“Girls will always be girls” I thought.

“Anil, do we have Hindi class tomorrow?”

“Yes, first period--dang it! We have some bone up to do.”

When I got home that evening, I was greeted by my cousins and my aunt. They had come to have dinner with my family. My cousins brought a brand new video game cassette. After the dinner, my cousins decided to stay back for the night. It was a hell lot of gaming.

The horror came the next morning when I woke up just to realize that I had not learnt my Hindi poem for Miss Kavita. I had a plan built up in my mind. I rushed to the kitchen to tell my mom that I was having a stomach ache. All I could think of was a stomach ache and it seemed very plausible as I had a dinner feast the previous night.

“Mom--”

“Yes”

My plan backfired when the aroma of my mom’s fish curry drugged me. I could not lie about me having a stomach ache as my mom would not allow me to have the fish curry if I told I had a problem with my tummy. I just grinned and turned.

“Darn!” I said to myself.

Without a clue of the poem in my head I was ready to face any punishment Miss Kavita would give that day.

I was quite scared in the class. Even Anil went on reciting the poem over and over again.

“I am surely getting doomed today.” I said banging my head on the desk.

“Hey, join me try learning some few lines. It’s not very difficult.” Anil responded on a positive note. “But, you know I am so going to love seeing you get punished.”

I punched him hard.

Before he could yell in pain and I could give him a winning smirk, our school principal came inside. All of us were taken aback. As we greeted him morning, I could sense the confusion in our voices.

“My young monkeys, your teacher is absent today. So I decided to take this class.”

“yooohoooooo! Good that I didn’t learn that poem” I chuckled.

“Well -- your luck won’t be your side kick tomorrow.” Anil snapped back.

“Boys and girls—there is someone I would like to introduce to you all. But only one of you gets to meet this person.” Sir Daniel said, nodding his head.

The whole class started to whisper and discuss among themselves.

“Oh! This is so exciting!! I wish Sir would take the whole classes for us--- why can’t he?”

“That is because he doesn’t want to listen to your nags and complaints.” I replied.

“Silence!”

Well that straightened us out all.

I would not deny that I was excited about it too. I could feel my stomach turning upside down. I could not stop thinking and wondering who the person was.

Just then Anil started poking me.

“Who could that person be?”

“God knows! Stop poking me.”

He chuckled and poked me again. I was so irritated that I took out my water bottle and ------

THOMPPP!!!

“Who was that?”

The whole class was silent. It was so nerve wrecking. I didn’t know what to do. It was my fault. I really wished that our principal would just leave it and go back to his lecture. But he didn’t. And that moment seemed liked ages.

“I asked you all something—“

Before I could realize anything, I was standing up.

“Sorry sir! It was me. I hit Anil with my bottle.”

“And why did you do that?”

I burst out laughing.

“Both of you out of my class.”

We stood outside the class. The class got over and Sir Daniel came to us.

“Anil, you go inside. And you young lad, what is your name?”

“Malem, Sir!”

“Malem, you come with me.”

I was so scared that I followed him in silent.

After minute or so, he broke the silence.

“The person I wanted to introduce is me.” He turned and said.

I comically raised my eyebrows. I have always heard of our Principal being so amusing and humorous.

“I am not your principal. I am a genie. Now let’s go somewhere it is isolated and silent.”

I still thought he was amusing. Just then he turned into fumes and disappeared into the air.

“What was that? I think I must be crazy.”

“No, you are not.”

It startled me. I looked around.

“Boy, I’m in your pocket. Let’s go.”

I really didn’t know what was going on and a place where can be alone----

“What is going on? And I’m not going to the place where we take a dump.”

Somehow I did end up in the toilet with Sir—no I ended up with this Mr. Genie.

“It takes great deal to admit your mistakes. So, name your wishes.”

He still had the appearance of Sir Daniel except for the fact that his lower body ended in my pocket. He was indeed a real Genie. I couldn’t think of anything else. My mind was blank.

“I just wish that my teachers won’t punish me on the days I forget to learn my lessons……”

I went rogue.

“…..and I wish that it will be always mom to find excuses for me no to go to school……”

“Okay done!”

“…and for the last wish...”

“It is already done. Two wishes—that is all I’ve got for you.”

“This is not done….Genies always grant three wishes.”

“Well those are imaginary genies with imaginary three wishes.” Saying this Mr.Genie pinched me hard on my thighs.

“Ouch----that hurts!”

“Then wake up!”

I opened my eyes, it was my cousin.

“It was so real----hmmm just a dream.”

“What was so real?”

“Nothing.” I replied in disappointment. “My Hindi poem----“ I added with more disappointment.

Just then my mom came in.

“Ebungo, since your cousins are here skip your school today. Spend the day with them.”

I winked at her in disbelief. A warm feeling kicked up.

-----------

I’m waiting for my school van now. I will never skip school today for the whole world. I have my Hindi class in the first period.

“Yes, I have not learnt it.”

for TTUS!!

The boy and the boy in me

2012-06-27T04:39:00.001-07:00

Childhood dreams….don’t you think they are beautiful? They may transform with the passing years, cherishing each dream we dreamt can be a beautiful reality.

The cries woke me up. The neighboring little kid must have woken up.

How I wished I could sleep longer. Right in front of my bed was this huge antique clock that belonged to my grandfather, old and abased but still it served its purpose. It was telling me that it was already five in the morning. As usual I got ready for my work. As I headed out, my wife handed me my packed tiffin.

“Please try to come home early.”

“I’ll try.”

I knew it was not possible to get home early. My wife knew it too. However she always asks this of me. I had no choice because of my profession.

I reached my workplace. It was ready to move…..my workplace. I am a bus conductor.

“Ok!!! All set! Let’s move.”

As the bus headed from stop to stop, I got busier and busier. Being in the profession for almost seven years, I was a perfectionist at it. My brain grew with the number of years. Memorizing every passenger, who has the ticket, who doesn’t ….I knew them all. I was the God in my bus.

“Sir, give me a ticket.” I heard a boy calling me out.

I was taken aback. Never in my life was I called a “sir”. I turned to check out who was that little fellow.

He was young boy and looked some 10-11 years old. He was carrying a guitar case. They were of the same size.

“Boy, where are you headed to?” I asked.

“The music academy”

“That’s five stops away. Here you go…the ticket. That’s nine rupees.”

He handed me the coins.

I smiled to myself. This boy….he was not scared of anything. I wanted to ask why he was travelling all by himself but I had others passengers to attend to so I wasn’t able to.

Days went by. The boy became a regular passenger.

One Sunday morning, I woke up hearing my wife’s yells.

“Shoo!!! How dare you eat all these fish?!!”

“It must be that stray cat again.” I thought to myself.

I got up and got ready. It was a day I waited for. It was Sunday and there would be less rush in the bus without all those office goers. I was hoping to talk to the boy. As usual my wife handed me my tiffin and I was off to work.

Later when the boy got on the bus, I went to the sit next to his.

“Good morning, sir!”

“Boy, so music classes even on Sundays?”

“I’m happy with it” he smiled.

“So what is your name? And your age?”

“Nanaopu…..I am in 8^th standard and I’m twelve years old.”

“But kid…why do you take the bus alone?”

“Bus is comfortable. Both my parents are working so they don’t have much time.” he answered calmly. “Sir, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, shoot!”

“How do I organize my own concert?”

I laughed out loud. He gave me a what-is-so-funny-about look.

“Hey! Sorry…I just don’t know where that spirit comes out from a small body like you.”I looked around; some new passengers were on board.

“I’ll be back.”

After a while I got back to the sit next to his.

“Many years back….when I was in school…music ran in my veins.” I started. He turned towards me. “Like you...I too owned a guitar. Like you…I wanted to have a concert of my own. My father wanted me to focus on studies and not on music. Well I was a rebellious one. But when my father died I had to become the breadwinner and eventually that’s when I sold my guitar. I have never played since that day.”

He was silent.

“Your stop is next.”

“I won’t go today. I want to hear you play.”

I was going to deny it but it was a tempting offer so I ended up agreeing with him.

During the lunch hours we went to a corner. He took out his guitar from his case. It was an acoustic guitar…six strings. I could smell the freshness of the cedar. He handed me the guitar and a pick. My hands trembled as I touched it. I picked a string. I was reminded of my days when I ruled the world with my guitar.

I played all my way.

“Hey …you just made a string skipping.”

I smiled at him. “Boy, I was one hell of a guitarist.”

He took the guitar. As he started playing I gasped. He was really good for his age.

From that day the lunch hours were our practice hours. Each day Nanaopu’s question struck my mind. “How do I organize my own concert?”

His present dream was a lost dream of mine.

Weeks later, as we sat in our practice spot I asked him “You really want to have a concert?”

“Yes, when I grow up I want to be a guitarist.”

“Will u be ready if I say let’s have the concert now?”

“Sir, we don’t have money to organize that. I can’t even ask my parents...the sum is huge.”

“Who says we need money? We have the guitar….we just need audiences to call it a concert.” As I said this I winked at him. I could see the excitement in his eyes.

“I can bring another guitar for you. How will we have the audiences?”

“Have you forgotten that I’m a bus conductor? The bus can be a big medium for advertisement.”

It was all set that we would perform the coming Sunday at three in the afternoon. We decided to play at the park in front of the main bus stop. It was four days away. Music…..we practiced every day. And I would tell every passenger about our concert as I handed them the tickets.

The day before the big day I told the bus owner that I wouldn’t be able to work the next day. He yelled at me.

“If you don’t come tomorrow you will not be allowed to come back forever.”

I knew this was coming. However I didn’t say anything. I didn’t tell my wife about the concert. She wouldn’t like the idea.

The next day, I really didn’t go for work. The bus owner would want to behead me. I didn’t care at that moment. I really wanted to play in front of a crowd for once.

I strolled in the park in search of a perfect spot. Nanaopu joined after a while. When we have found our right spot under the tree, we had a final rehearsal. We ate what my wife had packed. We had our guitars in our hands and we were ready. It was past three, a small crowd gathered. I could recognize many of my regular passengers.

As we started playing the crowd increased. It wasn’t a huge one though. I had the greatest moment of my life. The crowd clapped and cheered for us as we played. Nanaopu attracted much attention as he was so young for all those. I was happy for him.

We finally had our first concert. A concert without any microphone , without any speakers, without any singers and without a stage. But we had the “music” running in us.

When I got home that day, my wife was so angry with me. The bus owner came and told her what I had been up to.

I didn’t hear anything what she was saying. It was a great day and I wouldn’t want to spoil it. The next day, I went to the bus owner, apologized and asked him to take me back. He didn’t resist for long after all I am a perfect bus conductor.

I still met Nanaopu and listened to him play. I would love to see him as great guitarist someday. As for me, I had achieved what I had always wanted as a boy….to have my own concert.

I am still the perfect bus conductor and I love my job. Music will run in me forever though.

Thank you Nanaopu!

Barking Love

2012-05-19T08:44:00.000-07:00

There were yells and laughter at home when Tony came back from school. He rushed in to see the commotion. There was a puppy among his cousins.

“A puppy!!! Dada, when did you get this puppy?? Male or female???” Tony asked. His voice was filled with excitement.

“It is a boy. Boys should have boy dogs. Father brought him today.” Adan replied.

Adan was his cousin brother. Tony was nine and he was two years younger than Adan.

“What about the name?”

“He is my puppy. I’ll name whatever I like.”

Tony ran away towards his home.

“Mama…..MAMA” he called out for his mother.

“What is it son? Did something happen at school?”

“Dada Adan has a puppy. I too want a puppy…..a boy puppy. Tell father to buy me one.”

His mother laughed out. “Son, why do we need another? Your dada Adan has already one. You should play with it together.”

Tony did throw a big tantrum about owning one. But, at last, he did agree with his mother on “the playing together” concept.

“Children!” his mother murmured to herself.

Weeks passed.

Tony was back from school. Since the day the puppy arrived, it was Tony’s every day “do” to go to Jacky before even going to his room.

“Jacky! Jacky! Catch it.” Tony threw a ball to Jacky. They played all day long.

Jacky was the name given to the puppy. Yes, Adan named him.

One evening, Tony was all gloomy as he was doing his homework.

His mother came in to call him for dinner. She saw his motionless hand with the pencil and his eyes fixed on the wall. She knew something was not right.

She asked him on the matter.

“Mama, Dada Adan ……why is he like that?” this was all what Tony said.

Later during the dinner, as he sat down, he took a bowl. Before he ate, he took half of everything from his plate and put it in the bowl.

“I’ll be back.”

Saying this, tony took the bowl and ran away from the kitchen.

As he returned back, he was all smiles.

It went on. Many a times her mother would shout from the bathroom for her shampoo. Many a times her father would search for his cologne….only to find Tony grooming Jacky with them.

Sometime that year, Jacky was there at the gate waiting. It was already past the time Tony usually got home. Tony’s mother joined Jacky.

Soon after, Tony’s father shouted from the door “it’s on tv……news…..”

“What news?”

“A bomb blast near Tony’s school.”

****************************************************

I kept waiting for Tony. He didn’t come home that day. Nor the next day and the day next…..he didn’t come.

There was this picture of Tony on the verandah. He looked happy. I sat next to him. I didn’t move any inch away from him. Nobody tried to move me away too. May be everyone knew that Tony would have wanted it that way.

“Tony, don’t close your eyes. Keep smiling. You no longer play with me….the ball you gave me…I play with it all alone” I barked.

I headed back to my bed. The ball was there. I wouldn’t let anyone touch it. Not even Adan.

As I stared at the ball, I could still remember Tony..my Tony.

Tony would hide me when Adan was going to beat me up.

Tony fought with Adan because Adan didn’t care about me.

Tony came to feed me every day.

How I spent those summer days with him, sleeping under the fan.

How he use to play with my tails.

I miss him….his smell…his touch…his love.

But I’ m not going to let him down by sulking around like this. I’ve things to do for Tony.

***********************************************

It has been months since Tony died. Tony’s mother was still overcoming the loss. She was crying again looking at tony’s uniform.

“You are crying again. He was my son too. Lets cherish our moments we had with him. And I bet Jacky is on his way here. He must have sensed your tears” Tony’s father said.

He was right. Jacky came….came to lick off the tears from her face .

Both of them laughed out.

Jacky has always been over protective for the family. No one understood why he was like that. No one was able to explain it. But one thing was sure……they found a new son in Jacky.

thanx to google......i think this pic is lovely for this story!!!

The Coffee House

2012-02-05T01:58:00.001-08:00

Reck was remembering the day he and his wife were expecting their first kid. It was a fine day when his wife was taken to the hospital. It was a day he had to shed tears of both sadness and happiness. He was sad to have his girl child born with many medical complications. A missing chromosome resulted in his daughter’s state.

But he was happy to see his child alive. He was happy to see his child come out fighting at an early stage. He had promised to himself that day that he was going to protect his daughter in her fight.

“Reck,I need your help!” Jessie shouted.

Jessie, his wife, was all busy preparing for their daughter’s fifteenth birthday. This small family has been fighting together with the girl from the moment she was born.

Humami was in her wheelchair. At this age she should be shopping with her girlfriends, she should be talking to her mom about her crush at her school.

Though she couldn’t walk, she was happy that she could use her hands. Though she couldn’t help her parents, she was happy she could talk to them. This girl, she could count a number of blessings around her.

“We are going to celebrate your birthday somewhere else.” Reck said.

“Papa, I am so excited.”

The three of them got ready for the big day. As Reck drove the car, Jessie and Humami were singing. It was a perfect picture. But Reck and Jessie carried a heavy heart each day thinking about their girl. They have been teaching Humami about life, they have been giving her moral support. And on this birthday, they have thought of something for Humami’s future.

Reck parked his car outside a little coffee store. There was a board written “coffee house”.

“Happy birthday!” Reck exclaimed.

The coffee house was the birthday present from Reck and Jessie. They have been preparing for this day.

As they went inside, Humami have already understood what this house was to her. She knew she was growing up. She knew her parents have not given up on her.

“I am a lucky child and I may even live longer than my parents. A day may come when Papa and Mama wouldn’t be with me anymore. This house, my future lies in it.” Humami thought.

“I am going to run a successful store”

“I like your spirit.”

“The world must be thinking that we people who are in wheelchairs can’t do anything. i may not become an engineer or a doctor, I may not rule the world. But I am going to definitely going to show the world a lot of things which can be done.”

Humami was so matured for her age. And why wouldn’t she be. When the other kids of her age were playing peekaboo, she was fighting so many battles of life.

“Your father and I rightfully named you Humami”

Humami was named after “humam” which means brave in Arabic.

“I want to run my store in my own way. I want the many lots in wheelchairs to learn to believe. This coffee house, I want to run it together with those who are like me.”

Humami believed in herself and her potentials. And the world is not going to stop her from making her other comrades believe too.

Some years later, she is going to turn this coffee house to a house for her and her lot where they can dream and know their potentials.

Inspired from a true story....go ahead...inspire others as well!

SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

2012-02-03T21:25:00.001-08:00

I am someone who is useless and jobless. And most importantly,I am a drunkard. So everything I am writing right now may be just a piece of junk I do nothing but watch these women. Actually I am not watching them; I am making a research on how women can be so out of the world. No hard feelings, this doesn’t necessarily apply to all women.

[This is a report made by a jobless person in search of a job.]

There is a class of woman struggling for the survival of the fittest in the WW.

[WW-Women War. I am trying to make this report look nice by making abbreviations.]

Unfortunately or I would rather say fortunately I belong to a family with this class.

I am making a useless note entry of their behavior in this so called “survival”. Every class has a Queen, the follower and the outcast. Its hilarious to tell you that my wife is an outcast. She is the one with a kind heart….or an abnormal heart. This naturally makes her an outcast. Or am I taking her side because she is my wife?! Well, God knows!

REPORT:

Firstly the queen,the one on the throne, the one with money, the one with power,blah blah! She would be happy as long as her follower combs her hairs. She would be happier to get her feet washed. She would consider her follower “the follower” as long as she listens to her every word and every gossip with a reply “yes you are right as always”. Yes, the queen is always right!

Secondly the follower, she is the action spy. She is the one who would supply the Queen with the world’s interesting gossips. She would search for every outcast and anything the outcast does is the hot topic. How loyal she can be….you never know because she is the spy…the action spy. When I set up my own detective team someday, I am going to hire her.

Thirdly the outcast, the outcast is always the outcast. She is the VVIP because if there is no outcast there will be no Queen and no follower.

Dang! I’ve been talking nonsense again. Every word a drunkard like me says is something the society tags with “crazy” and “waste-of-time-listening-to-him” attitude. Don’t take a word of this note. I am bound to tell only the “non-truths” because I am I, a drunkard!

Let me sleep under this welcoming tree. Sleeping under it, I am taking part in their “survival of the fittest”.

A Thing Called First Love

2012-01-13T02:04:00.000-08:00

I am sitting with her on this park bench. I am not sure what is going on her mind. I could see the tears inside her. It’s innocent as it was five years ago.

Five years ago

It was winter vacation. All the students must be enjoying at home then. But as for me, I had to come with her. We were sitting on the same park bench in front of our school. She waited for him there since the end of summer break. I couldn’t convince her to go back home. She would wait for him with the hope that he was going to come to school and return back her smile.

Her smile??

Yes, her smile.

He would sit at the last bench. She would sit in the front with me. When the teacher wasn’t around, she would laugh at my slightest joke. I noticed many a times that he would look at her. Then, I would tell her. She would then turn back and smile at him.

Gig! He was a gig. He would just look down every time she smiled at him.

Innocent! She was innocent. She would still smile at him. Every time she smiled, she hoped for the same in return.

They were the stupid sweethearts!

How could they just be happy with that? I wasn’t sure. He was happy just looking at her. And she was happy just giving him unreturned smiles. We had this art class; he opted for music section while we were in painting section. I was tired of them. She would drag me to the music room just to get a glimpse of him pulling those strings.

Once, he waited for her outside the school gate. She was blushing all the way as they walked back home. I didn’t tag along. Well, I knew what they could have done as they walked back. I had known her for so many years.

The next day she happily told me at school that it was a silent walk. They didn’t talk. I knew it. That was what I had guessed that previous night.

It was after the summer break that she brought his portrait she made during the break. He didn’t come that day. He didn’t come the next day as well. Days passed, weeks passed…..she was all gloomy but she didn’t show it.

No one knew what had happened to him. She did try asking his friends to check out on him. They told her that his house was locked.

She went on with her life. But there wasn’t a day she wouldn’t wait for him in the park bench. winter came and it was a very cold winter for her.

After the high school graduation, everybody moved on.

He disappeared into the thin air. She was left behind with just the painting and the memories.

I am meeting her after five years. She came to my house today morning. I wasn’t surprised at all when she told me she wanted to go to school.

And now here I am with her. I thought in these five years she would have forgotten all about it. Well, I am wrong. I don’t know where he can be. I don’t even know if he is alive.

“How many smiles do I owe him?” she said after a long gap of silence.

This winter is still cold for her. As she looks back to those times, I know all she can see is his face.

“First love can be crazy and painful” this is what I am thinking right now.

To the Evolved Me, I Salute Her

2012-01-03T04:37:00.000-08:00

My daughter got sick that morning, her blood pressure lowered and she got hospitalized. The doctor gave her sleeping pills. And there she was, lying so peacefully. There she was, with her mind out of the world, no bad dreams to disturb. I was sitting right next to her, rubbing her hands. Her hands were so warm. The words which the doctor had told me still rang in my heart.

“She has a very weak heart. Don’t make her face anything which is going to make her unstable.” I was so heartbroken. The whole world crumbled down for me. “She is the only person of my own. How could this happen to her” I thought at that moment.

“Ahem! Seems like you are crying, aha?”

There was a man next to my daughter’s bed. His words brought me back to senses.

“So, who is this person you are crying for? What happened?”

“She is my daughter. She is very sick. I am very worried.”

He said nothing. He returned back to his sleep. I was still sitting next to my daughter. Each time I looked at her, tears would roll down.

I stayed the whole time sitting next to her. I waited for her to wake up.

After some time, that man woke up. He looked out of his window. His bed was just next to the window.

“Ah! What a lovely child!” and he laughed out loud. It must have been a scene worth seeing but I was not in the mood, or I would rather say I didn’t have the audacity to go any meter away from my daughter.

He went on and on with various beautiful things he saw in the park, the man who was selling balloons, the couple who was walking hand in hand and so on.

I just listened blankly.

I must be really tired because I slept off.

Hours later, there was confusion in the room. The doctors and nurses surrounded that man. It seemed like he was in a critical state. They took him away.

It was then I realized that I was shivering. My whole body was shaking. I returned back to my seat, the seat next to my daughter.

When the doctor came in to check my daughter that night, she said “she should be fine, let her sleep as for now. She will wake up tomorrow. But I would advise you not to stress her out.”

She was about to leave when I stopped her.

“Doctor, how is the man who was previously in this room?”

“It’s so sad about him. He died. He is a terminal patient. And above all he was blind. But during his stay here, he was a wonderful man.”

“Oh! Thank you, doctor.”

She left.

I didn’t understand what was going on in my mind at that moment. He was blind. He was blind. He was blind.

I rushed to the window near his bed. I looked through the window; I didn’t know what lies outside. But definitely there was no park.

“Yeah! He was a wonderful man.” I murmured to myself.

The next morning, it was my daughter who woke me up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes mom, were you very worried about me? Did you cry?”

“So many questions…yes I was worried about you and yes I cried. But I am not going to cry anymore. And we both are going to be strong. You don’t have your papa but mama is going to be everything for you. Mama will make a great lady out of you.”

My daughter raised her eyebrow. I reckon she thought she was either dreaming or I was mad. Who would ever imagine I was going to become bold overnight.

“Honey, don’t give me that look!” I nudged my head towards that particular bed.

“There was this brave man who was sleeping here till yesterday. We have to be brave for him, for papa, for you and for me.”

My daughter was still confused.

“I am going to tell her the story of the man and his beautiful window someday. I am going to retell her each day about him.” I thought to myself.

Scientifically it may be not possible to evolve overnight. But I did evolve into a stronger woman that fine day.

The Ghost's tale

2011-10-29T00:50:00.001-07:00

The people hardly visit this pool again. ….my pool in fact. She has even locked the door to this pool.

The old lady who lives just across the road has driven all the people away. She has been doing this for the past five years. I have been living this way…so alone and so separated.

I am just a normal little girl who wants to play ring around the rosey with living children. Yes, I died five years ago……..

The old lady who lives across knows I live here since then. I’ve heard her telling the people that I died in this pool…….and that my soul is not at peace. I’ve seen her come with the priest trying to make me sleep. I am still a little girl and I still don’t understand when they said my soul is not in peace. All I want is to play and play like all those children.

Last summer, a gang of some five teens came for a swim here. There were two boys and three girls. I was happy to see them. But this girl Reggie (I heard the others calling her) didn’t seem happy like the others. Just then the old lady came again to drive them out.

She told them, “It is dangerous here.”

Reggie snapped back, “see! I told you this place don’t seem right.” And she stared at me, right into my eyes. She looked sick.

I knew it… she was highly sensitive to psychic energy just like the old lady. She must have seen me standing among them. Of course she must be scared….this long hair and my white gown. Even though all ghosts are scary at some point to people, I would be very scared to see a little ghost girl even if it’s a harmless one.

The whole lot were grinning. I knew they didn’t believe it. Somehow, I felt lighter. The old lady was finally tired of convincing them……and she left saying “this place is haunted.”

The others resumed back to swimming. And as for Reggie ….she could feel and sense. So she started making things creepier for the others. They were starting to get scared. I wanted to go out from this place for the first time…..for the first time I knew I was making things weird for the livings.

They finally decided on leaving the place. While doing so a boy tripped and got hurt. And he screamed,”holy crap!!! The ghost…it’s the ghost.”

I was wondering if Reggie didn’t sense that I was nowhere out there when it happened.

There are two points to be noted here. One, I appeared in front of Reggie and the others. Reggie knew I wanted her to look at me. There was this connection between us. Two, the others have never really sensed my presence. They just sensed what Reggie felt. They had no psychic connection.

News had spread about me hurting the boy in the whole place. And the livings had put a big lock on the gate.

As they did this I just murmured,” please don’t do this to me….i am turning up seven this June. I want to celebrate my birthday.”

I am a little girl and I am turning up seven this June. Every summer I turn up seven.

If you have not met any spirit, be fortunate about it. A person can very easily misinterpret a spirit’s intentions. But you should know that the door you open very well may be good and helpful to a lost spirit or dangerous. The choice is yours.

Through the trap door

2011-06-02T00:36:00.001-07:00

It was late night and in the girls’ dormitory there were these two best friends, Lona and Jodie. They were still awake. It was their last night before their vacation; by the next morning all the girls of St.Mary girls’ high school would be going back home.

Lona and Jodie were still talking about bogeyman, vampires, ghosts and all sorts of creepy things. They looked at the time. It was nearing midnight. So they cleared out the conversations from their minds and went to sleep.

A little while later, a sound woke up Lona. Jodie had just gone out of the dormitory.

Lona got up and ran after her. But soon, she lost her trial. Instead she found herself in a large empty room with numerous similar doors. She didn’t know which door to open….which door to get through.

“Is this a puzzle??? Is this a trap?” Lona thought to herself.

She held a deep breath and reached out for a door—opened it. She was shocked. It was a real freaky room. She had walked into a pool of blood and the smell of the blood was making her nauseated. She went into convulsions. She didn’t understand what was going on….she looked around looking for clues. Her eyes met someone at the far end of the room------

IT WAS JODIE!! She was lying unconscious.

Lona called out for Jodie. She rushed to her. It must have been in a flick of second that the room changed and Jodie woke up. At once, many similar doors sprang out of the nowhere walls. A moment later, the light had faded.

“Are you okay?? What happened??” Lona asked Jodie.

“I don’t know…..”

“Come on, get up. We have to move on.”

This time, Lona didn’t think. She just pushed and opened a door.

They found themselves in a highly illuminated room with mirrors attached everywhere on the walls except for the lone door. It was wooden. The mirrors were beautiful. And it gave them goose bumps to see their own death bodies in the mirrors.

“What could be the meaning of this? Is this a prediction?” Lona asked.

“I don’t know. We have to get ourselves out of these whole crazy rooms.” Jodie answered back.

They reached out for the wooden door and opened it. They were standing in a large, circular room. The room looked very old. The walls were covered with green moss. Everything looked green with moss including the floors and ceilings, identical, handle less four black doors were set at intervals. There were branches of candles, whose flames burned blue. In the shimmering light, the girls noticed the words that were written on the floor.

“One of us will take you to your last ordeal,

One among us will lead you to a room, thee room where you will stay for the rest of your life,

One of the remaining is a killer room—you will find only tears and tears and only blood,

One will lead you back.”

They let out a great sigh and opened a door with their fingers crossed.

“Oh! No!”

They laughed. They had just entered a room and there was nothing there. Everything was white. A white door with metallic handle was there at the other end of the room. This was surely not the killer room. They were quite positive about it. They walked though.

Something was not right. They have been walking and walking but the white door didn’t seem any nearer.

“Hey! What’s happening?”

“I don’t want to spend here for the rest of my life.”

“Shut up, Lona! We will get out.. We will surely find a way.”

They didn’t stop walking. With every step they took, they could sense something behind them. They turned around. But it was just the two of them in the room.

Just then, out of nowhere, corpses appeared. The two screamed. Jodie, controlling her panic, started counter attacking, started hitting those lifeless bodies. Lona got a grip on herself and helped Jodie in the fight. They kicked and punched. They were outnumbered but still they continued to fight.

When there was no way of defending themselves.

“I am taking them to the other side. You get yourself out.” Jodie shouted.

“No way! We will go out together.”

“I know what exactly I have to do. You came here for me and I need to get you back to your family. This crazy thing wouldn’t leave us alone. You just go… I will follow you a while later.”

The corpses didn’t realize that there was someone missing from the scene.

As for Lona, she knew Jodie’s plan was working. Because this time, with every big step she took, she was getting nearer. Before she opened, she turned back. Jodie was still fighting.

“Jodie……” she shouted.

The corpses had seen her.

JERK!!

Lona fell down, a corpse was pulling her leg. She kicked.

“Lona….go!! GO!!!” Jodie screamed.

Lona reached out for the door with great effort. Yes! She did it. She opened the door….

…….She woke up with a start. It was already seven in the morning. She felt as if her heart and brain were about to explode. The encounters she just had seemed so real. She could hear the thumping and throbbing of her heart. Sweat was pouring off her.

She turned towards Jodie’s bed but she wasn’t there. Her packed trunk was there. The other girls were getting ready to leave.

“Where has she gone? She wakes me up every day.” She thought.

Her head was spinning. She could feel her heart beat even more. She was so exhausted.

Tediously, she asked the other girls if they had seen Jodie.

To her surprise, none of them had seen her that morning. Her heart jolted. All the encounters she went through were playing in her mind like a film without sound…..the rooms…Jodie vanishing among the corpses……she was perturbed……

……..”Was it just a nightmare….or……the nightmare scenario…..”

My best friend is my aunt is my best friend

2011-05-30T06:47:00.001-07:00

The sun had risen up. Actually it was not the sun’s ray, which was illuminating the room, that woke me up. It was my aunt’s voice that woke me up.

I was used to this alarm…my aunt’s alarm.

I always stayed with my aunt. My mom and dad both worked in a company so they would go out early in the morning and return back late.

My aunt’s final exam had just ended and it was her vacation. I was also having my summer break.

“Abemma…hey baby…wake up…pipi is here.”

Like my aunt called me abemma….I called her Pipi.

I was five years old at that time and Pipi was sixteen. In spite of the age gap, she was more like my best friend to me.

My mom, as usual, handed her the bag with my stuffs…that day’s stuffs. Then Pipi took me to her room.

Home sweet home…a great place to live. But without mom and dad at home, I would need to make a number of unsubstantiated assumptions about the attributes that makes “home” a homely attractive home. Pipi’s room was my home. All my dreams and memories lies in there. And I spent most of my time in her room.

I don’t understand how she managed to stay with me the whole day every day. She never got tired of being with me. Infact I was never tired of her too.

“Pipi….let’s play computer game.
Pipi’s father had a computer in his room. We broke into his room gingerly-played until our eyes would pop out-came out gingerly again like nothing had happened. Grandpapa never allowed us to touch his computer.

Pipi then told me,”Abemma we shouldn’t play this everyday……you see we will become fat like teletubbies…. someday”

I laughed and replied “I will be the yellow one.”

“No…..you are the red one and m the yellow one
“Yellow”

“Red”

And then we would fight on and on about it.

“Pipi, tell me a story.”

She nodded.

I got down from the bed and took a copy of tinkle from her bookshelf. I took it to her. Narrating stories was her specialty. And I love to hear her stories…..except for the fact that she would always end up sleeping before she completes her story.

She had started narrating the story from the Tinkle I brought. After some two or three minutes, her voice became completely inaudible. And that was when I woke her up.

“Pipi…Pipi…..come on…you can’t sleep. You have to complete the story.”

“Ohh…ahhh….” She began with those expressions. She mumbled some few unrelated words…and then she went back to her sleep.

I waited for hours for her to wake up. I was not unhappy or strongly displeased about it. My aunt, my Pipi would do anything I wanted. I love my aunt. I even enjoyed waiting for her to wake up.

“Rosie…..come……it’s the time for floral tribute”

It’s my husband calling out for me. I closed my aunt’s diary. Thanks to it….that I can clearly remember my childhood days with her.

Today is my aunt’s fifth death anniversary.

I am in my late forties and I still wish that Pipi was here with me today and play with me.

All these years after her death, I am cherishing every moment we had together by reading her diary.

She is my all time best friend.

I love you,Pipi.

I Had A D-Day

2011-04-21T08:26:00.000-07:00

There weren’t any flowers I liked… I had been flying around that place for the past one hour.

The only thing which caught my attention was the open window on the third floor of the white building.

I went in there…

“Human!” I said to myself.

I couldn’t imagine that it was a “girl’s” room.

My house is much cleaner than theirs.

I sat on a big red rock…..I guess it was a box… I was looking at those girls…..they ran up and down very confused.

Of course they didn’t notice me. Silly girls!

Both the girls were spectacled. One was taller than the other. The taller girl opened her standing box. They were something shiny inside. Curiosity overtook my mind and I went inside there.

BANG!

It was dark inside. She had closed her box. I zoomed inside her box (what else could I have done)

“These girls! Their eyesight must be really poor. Why didn’t they notice me?” I murmured to myself. I tried banging that hard thing which was the transition between light and dark. I used all my strength but I couldn’t open it.

Time passed and passed, I zoomed and zoomed.

It was hours later that the taller girl opened the box….the standing box!

My head had gone all heavy and dreamy. May be it’s because I stayed in the dark for too long. May be I missed my home. But then I still ed stayed inside her box.

I was so surprised she didn’t notice me that time too. The other girl came and took out a black carry thing.

“Oh! Pity them! They must be really blind” I thought.

Sometime later, those two girls were staring at some bright screen. The taller girl was pressing her ears and the other girl was hiding herself behind a pillow.

It was a funny scene.

I wanted to go nearer. My new roommates were funny..And I wanted to know more about them.

I flew there. They were so absorbed in that bright thing….bright moving pictures.

I was enjoying with them. (They still haven’t noticed me)

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

They shouted in chorus.

My goodness! They scared the hell out of me that I sat on the taller girl’s leg.

The game started then.
This time they had noticed me. The taller girl cried in pain and the other girl stood up maliciously…everyone would do the same when they see a stranger in their room. I would do the same.

I was more than scared. I was so numb. I didn’t know what to do.

Before I could do anything else.....

PHATTTT!

The other girl had dropped something big on me.

It was hard breathing inside that hard thing.

it was hours later that the other girl opened up. She stared at me for a moment.

I couldn’t move my body! She kept staring at me. The taller girl rushed to the scene. She was also staring at me. I think they thought I was death.

The other girl took a paper…..she applied some creamy thing on that paper…..and she wrapped me up inside the paper. It was so heavenly inside,the flowery scent surrounding me.

After that I think she kept me outside the window.

The wind carried me away….
Now I am back to normal, very fit.

The tall girl should be okay…I hope she is fine now!

That day was really something. I’ll carry that adventure in my heart to grave.

P.S. I am the little orange bee who lives around the corner of the white building!

malefactor

2011-04-07T05:40:00.000-07:00

“I hate to wake up.”

They cursed me tonight again.

“I must be a really bad husband….i must be a really bad father” I thought. All I did was yelled at them and caused ruckus at home. i admit my mistake.

I ve tried many a times to be a better man. But I keep on crawling towards this heavenly “liquid”.

I remember the many times I had came home all drunk and ended up beating my wife and son. I went all wild and lost all my control. Once, I didn’t sleep that night. I was so sorry. Yet , I didn’t have the courage. Later,when they were asleep I sat beside them, my hands running through my wife’s lovely hurt hands. Her hands no longer have its softness. My son…..he must have cried when he slept. His face was still wet.

“how could I have done that?”

“I should give up….i will change myself”

Yeah! That’s right, that was not the first time or the last time I thought that I would change myself.

I am a coward. I am not a man.

I did try hard. Honestly!

But “trying” wouldn’t satisfy them. How can they expect me to be changed overnight? They believe in miracles.

I refrained from the company I was keeping. I would go back home,with the day’s earning and help my wife. I would watch my son play.

They wanted more. They were still not happy with what I did. May be they have become used to all hateful emotions towards me. But I kept quiet and accepted everything.

Today morning, my wife left my clothes again. And as usual I washed them myself. I didn’t like to complain. I am getting all the “bads” for all the “bads” I have done….and so I won’t complain.

I still had the malefactor in me. And I stole the money my wife saved.

My heart and soul were contented…..i drank and drank.

This time……I didn’t do anything. I went to my bed quietly. I know I have the”bad” in me. the most timid man lies in here…in me. i know I will never be able to change myself. I know I will end up killing my family someday in future.

I wish I would never wake up tomorrow. It’s 2 O’clock in the morning….i still lay wide awake. Am I afraid to sleep just because my heart longs to never beat when I wake up tomorrow?

I am selfish till this last moment.

"pretty penny"

2011-02-17T03:57:00.000-08:00

as i walk pass through this crowd
stepping down from street to street
i can see the same look in their eyes
watching out for pretty penny
everywhere....everyplace
everyone longs for pretty penny
everyone looks out for pretty ...dirty penny
am i possibly one of them?
oh no...this can't be happening
i don't want this pretty,dirty penny
pretty penny has become so dirty
so dirty ...
that power and blood are its strength
everywhere...everyplace
it is the same
pretty,dirty penny
i don't want this pretty,dirty penny!

"won't give up"

2011-02-17T03:46:00.000-08:00

the world is becoming wild
does it hold a future for me?
will it still look out for me when i wake up tomorrow?
will it ask me to change with it?

the carefree songs and smiles
the sense of childishness
look of innocence
i don't wanna give up
i don't wanna grow up

when i wake up again in the morning
i will still quest for my mama's sweaters
i will still play with my papa's briefcases

i will stay this little
this happy when the birds chirp
and the kite flies high.......
i could stay this simple
dancing with the wind
playing with the clouds

the carefree songs and smiles
the sense of childishness
look of innocence
i don't wanna give up
i don't wanna grow up

"haunted"

2011-02-16T08:50:00.000-08:00

the sun has gone,the silence overtakes
through this darkening path
i am moving ahead
my mind is haunted by your laughters
oh yeas...haunted by your voices
your voices
she left this wilderness enchanted
my spirit's fire burn low without you
without you,the music in me is lost
my words,fades like smoke
i am so lost without you
i ll learn to get up on these bruised knees
brushing away the wetness in my eyes
but...keep on haunting me with your laughters
keep on haunting with your voices
for these are the sweetest symphonies
for you are.....my music

my first work on a lyric....."she"

2011-02-16T08:30:00.001-08:00

she smiles
she laughs
she cries
i am trying hard to hold on these memories
i am trying hard..so hard
but they all slip through my fingers
i follow her around like a shadow
for i love her wholeheartedly
yes, she,who stood up so rashly and left
she hit me a bullet
no matter how much its goin to hurt
i'll still follow her around
for i love her wholeheartedly
for i love everything she does
she,who stood up so rashly and left
i even love this part bout her
i am never going to hate it,girl
all your pics scattered in my mind
all messed up....a beautiful mess to me
for i love you wholeheartedly...

an extract from my new story " her life's symphony....my music"

2010-10-25T00:34:00.000-07:00

We went to take a walk together.

Once, dad and she went to take a morning walk. I decided to stay back. Five minutes after they had gone, I regretted that I should have gone. I didn’t know which route they had taken yet I decided to follow them. I called out for them. It was my good luck that they found me. I was seven then.

I was taking the same path I took seven years back, the path where I found both of them. I wish she could remember that like I did.

I really wished she could.

“Sis” I called.

She only nodded to let me know that she was hearing.

“We had a memory here…in this place.”

She walked on…I followed her.

“Wait! I’ve something for you.”

She stopped walking. I placed my hand on her heart and closed my eyes.

“There you go……I’ve transferred that moment to you. Even if you can’t remember, your heart will cherish it.”

TIP!

I knew that was coming. My hand sensed the wet drops which just fell on it. I didn’t want to open my eyes.

“It’s okay sis. You will get over it…..I ‘ll store all those moments you had….we had……in your heart.”

She turned and walked on. Since the day she came back home, she had never said a word.

My phone rang, it was a call from home. mom must be waiting for us.….”all my bags are packed….” the ring tone went on. It is her favorite song by John Denver. She loves music. She loves every genre of music.

I was sure what I should be doing. I decided to spend that summer vacation recollecting all her life’s symphonies. I thought that was the best thing I could do for her.

an extract from the novel i am working on

2010-06-24T17:11:00.000-07:00

I didn’t realize how I fell asleep. I felt like it was hours later that I woke up. I didn’t know whether it was a dream or not. I was still lying on the bed.

By then I was very sure that grandpa is one of those who practices black art or the so called “black magic”. There was no misconception about it. I was acutely sure.

In this scientific world I didn’t know what to believe. But it was true that I believed in the good and the bad. I always had a belief that if there is God there has to be the evil spirit. There should be a balance in everything.

Being brought up among the fairy tales and magic books I was always taught that “the good overtakes evil.” I didn’t know how long Grandpa has been doing that but I wanted to stop him before it was too late.

“Or was it too late?” I asked myself. It gave me goose bumps.

However there was a part inside me who felt excited and elated about the fact that Grandpa does black magic.

“Every person has a dark side and this is the dark side of me” I said to myself.

this is me!!!!!!!!!!

2009-12-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

I have not experienced the whole set of beauty and thrills of the collage of life. However, I am studying this collage and I reckon I am starting to understand it bit by bit. I am a lot fascinated by it.
I had read a lot of books on fictions, memories and fantasies. Sometimes, I get carried away by such books. Once I read a fantasy fiction, there was magic, charms in that book, I was so carried away that I hardly heard mom calling out for me. I won’t be wrong to say that I was actually bewitched by the author. What I wonder is the author’s audacity to fuse the actual air and the fiction air. It’s a fiction but then there are lots of similarities between these two. By air, I mean the prevailing principalities. I am quite positive that the principalities I failed to understand in my own world I learned and understood them by reading books. I’ve been speaking and babbling about books, so of course I love books. And like everybody else, I least like school books.
Keeping books apart, I was saying about the collage of life. I introduced myself a bit while writing about these books. Yes, I am a bit stubborn while reading a book. My personality changes every time I read a book. Sometimes I wonder if I am suffering from MPD, Multiple Personality Disorder….. It will always be a dilemma to me…..this is how I am and I will always be this way!!!

the bond i share with the five ruppee note

2009-10-15T09:31:00.000-07:00

I AM THE older of two sisters and we’re a small family of four. A small family is a happy family indeed. But once upon a time, there were five people in our family. I had a younger brother, Ashish, who was four years younger than me. He was very different from me. He was crazy about cricket. He was more into sports than studies. He loved black and I loved white, and that was how different we were. When it came to books, he hated them. It was very easy to make him fall asleep; all I had to do was to just keep a school book in front of him. He would always end up being scolded by our parents. But I would proudly say that he was a great cricket player. If one asked my friends about their favourite cricket players, their answer will be either Sachin or Yuvraj or Brett Lee or some big name but, as for me, my brother is my favourite.
As I sit here on the bench in our garden, looking at beautiful fruits and flowers dancing with the breeze, I wonder if the mesmerised onlooker will ever imagine that this is where our family’s dark moments lie. Deep down, under the roots of the plants growing here. I always spend my evenings here thinking about my brother and how his soul blossoms and dances with the flowers and the plants.
It happened five years ago. He was 10 at that time and I was 14. He would usually go out with the other kids to play cricket in the evenings. But on that warm, sunny December evening, the other kids didn’t take him along. The previous day, his team had lost the game and he had lost his pocket money as well – the losing team had to buy snacks for the winners. Mom and dad were busy that day, so the two of us had lunch together, not realising that it would be our last meal together. I can’t remember him speaking much that day, all I remember is that he asked me for a five rupee note for the next day’s game, which I promised I would lend him. After that, he went outside to practice – playing cricket all alone in the playground near our house pond.

Hours later, dad asked for him but he was nowhere to be seen. Mom and dad started searching for him – the playgrounds, play stations, neighbours’ houses, everywhere they could possibly think he’d go. My younger sister and I tried looking for him at all his frequent hangouts but it was all in vain. Our search caught the neighbourhood’s attention and it gained momentum, lasting for hours. Back at home, mom told everyone that she could see a cricket ball floating in the pond. She was already in tears. Everyone gathered around her, scolding her for thinking such things but agreed to search the pond to convince her that her fear was baseless. One of our neighbours went into the pond. “There is something, I think it’s a body.” The minute she heard it, mom fell down, unconscious. Uncle brought out Ashish. He was already dead. They tried everything, all possible aids to bring him back. I was so confused, tears streamed down my cold face. I didn’t know what was going on, all I knew was that I wouldn’t be seeing my brother anymore. I saw papa cry for the first time that day.
They dressed Ashish up for the funeral. He was looking lovely – smart in his school uniform.
I don’t know how cold he must have felt inside the water in that chilling pond that day in December. Did he die right after falling down there? Did he long for someone to come out of the house and find him? Why didn’t we see that cricket ball at first?
We could have found him earlier and maybe we could have saved him. These are questions which will haunt me and my family forever, questions for which we have no answers. But I’m sure the Almighty will have the answers. Now, all we can do is pray for his soul to rest in peace
Today, again, I sit here in the garden which was a pond five years ago, the pond that took my brother. I have a five rupee note in my pocket that I will give him one day for sure.

when i say i've changed

2009-08-21T22:26:00.000-07:00

I am my papa’s girl who loves always being with the family. Now I am very far away from my family…pursuing my btech. I’ve always thought the world is always a castle….a palace for me. it was months after being in the hostel that I changed my mindset….there are lots of people around me and to intermingle well with them you have to compromise a lot…..never have a lot of expectations from them and that way you will always be happy. I was my papa’s princess at home and it was a bit hard for me living up to the new environment…where the people live for themselves …..But then I gradually changed. I cannot complain about it. May be this is one of the curses the evil witch has bestowed on me……to evolve…to change …to take part in the survival of the fittest.
Don’t mistake me for a spoilt child when I say “I am my papa’s princess”…I was brought up among the fairy tales…I was taught about the qualities of a true princess…and that was how I became a princess……and when I say I’ve changed I don’t mean that I am not a princess now….I am still a princess…there in my heart!!!

THE tougher SIDE

2009-08-10T07:01:00.000-07:00

here,i chose blue color for a change...till now i was leading a carefree life....i ve always thought of fun,talked of fun...
now i am looking forward for a change....may be i should be more serious now...dats why i chose blue for celebrating a change. i just want to show everyone that a pink pincess like me can be really tough at times....is this the reason for the change??? or may be i ate an apple the bad witch gave me once......
watever the case i am going to show the world....and i ll conquer the whole world.....i ll make the world an easy place for all......learn magic and transform all the evils into beautiful flowers....i ll brew potions to remove all the deadly things which still walk on this earth of ours...may be by that time i ll come back to my carefree life again which is so bubbly and jolly.....

magic slippers

2009-07-04T07:55:00.000-07:00

i ve always been fascinated by magic and fairytales....with all those princess and prince.....

once when i was in six standard....i was choosen by my teachers for a play...."cinderella".....it was a dream come true for me.....i practised hard...rehearsed hard....the boy who played the prince was a guy 4rm seven standard and he was damn cute as well......

but darn my luck...how could i get into an accident at that tym....i was not injured much but still i could not make it for the play....the teachers had to find another gal....they practised all over again. though i couldnot be in the play,i helped that gal.....a lot.

The play was a grand success. the audience clapped and cheered....n i was one of them....thats okay. Even though i could not be the drama queen.......i was the backstage princess...and am elated about it....