30 day challenge. Day # 4

Think of two very different people you know. Invent a character who combines characteristics of both of them. Then put this character in a stressful family situation ...


"They say that the world was built for two", sang Tithiya, imitating her current favourite - Lana Del Ray, in the college fest. She could see her friends standing in the first row itself, Joy was flinging his hair wildly - he must be high on weed, she thought. Arundhuti kept looking at Joy with a mix of amusement and disgust. Karan and Nishi were trying to look romantically towards each other - but ended up bursting into laugher every time. Tithiya felt so happy seeing them there. They just made life perfect. Good friends, great parents, a fun college and a guaranteed internship at the media house of her choice. Life was good for Tithiya Sharma.

"Yohoo, Sharma! You were fabulous," Arundhuti came bouncing up the stairs even before Tithi had the chance to come off the stage. She smiled.

"Are you sure it wasn't bad? I went off key in some places".

"Bleh. You always feel that way about yourself, don't you? Under-sell to the world!" chided Arundhuti.

Tithi wanted to go back home. Rest for a while and tell her parents about the show. They would be proud. She has the most awesome parents ever. They have always supported her through whatever she has fancied at any point in her life. Like when she wanted to take up art in class two, her dad had brought her most of the crayons in the market. In class six she decided she wanted to be a dancer. And her mother went to each of her shows after that. By ninth she thought she had it made as a basketball champ. The only time her parents had become a bit strict with her was when she discussed her brilliant idea of leaving studies and going pro with the sport. They have been there through her life. To them, she was the perfect child. And to her, her parents were the ones whose words were the ultimate thing.

As she entered her house in CR Park, she could not smell her mother's incense sticks which she offered the Gods every evening at sundown. Her father's car was parked in the garage. And the light in the living room seemed to be on. She caught sight of Vohra aunty, her neighbour. Did she imagine it or did Vohra aunty just shake her head and clicked her tongue?

"Mumma! Papa", she called out as she entered the house. Her parents sat in the living room. Something told her it was not right. She went and sat next to her dad and looked from one parent to the other.

Her father broke the news to her," Your mother is leaving us."

"What???" Tithi was shocked.

"Yes, she wants to get married to Arjun uncle." Her father could hardly disguise the sarcasm in his voice.

"No. What! Is this a joke?" This had to be a joke. Her mom would never do something like this. It wasn't proper. It just wasn't. She loved papa. She loved Tithi. "Mumma, say something."

"Look beta, I wanted to tell you this myself. But the time was such. And.. and I was never sure how you'd take it."

"I met Arjun in college. We have been friends ever since. I must confess we have always felt strongly towards each other. But we decided to not take anything forward because I was about to be married to your father. I have had the best moments of my life in this family. Your father is a good man. He has been there for me. And you have given me so many reasons to feel happy and to be proud." Her mother looked down," And you are also one of the reasons why I have the courage to do this today."

"Did you just blame me for this mess? What is happening?"

"No beta. I am not blaming you. I am saying I am thankful. You have always been the girl who showed maturity beyond her years. And you feel that love is the biggest thing in the world. You were always falling in love with different things - sometimes dance, sometimes pets, sometimes algebra. And yet you gave them your best shot - your whole time. I know now that if I give my time, I can be happy too. And it’s not like I won’t be around. I will be next to you... through out your life - whenever you need me".

No. Stop it. Don’t make me a part of it. This is horrible. You are horrible" she screamed. With tears streaming down her face, she ran up to her room and slammed the door.

As she lay there thinking. She remembered all the days she had spent with her mumma and papa together. How perfectly in love they had looked. Had mumma ever been unhappy? Had mumma always been unhappy? Was it ok for her to do this? It couldn't be, could it?

But... but then. If she did love someone how can she, her mumma's little daughter, not be there to encourage her. Ok. She didn't love papa. But they were still not fighting. Then maybe it is ok to fall in love after an age. Maybe it is ok to let go of the things she had just take one more step towards an unknown future.

Her mother had waited all these years till Tithi was in the final year of college, therefore old enough to take care of herself. She didn't need her mother to be around her all the time. In all probability she would be studying in Mumbai for her masters. Why then should she leave behind her mother, unhappy and never being able to talk about what she wanted to anyone? It would hurt her. It would also be embarrassing to admit that she came from a broken home. But she had to do what was expected of her. She had to be the perfect daughter once more.

30 day challenge. Day # 3

Imagine you're looking through a collection of short stories. One of the titles catches your interest. That's the story you want to read first. What might the title be? Invent a title that would make you want to read the story. Now, write a story to go with that title...


And then the music stopped forever

When one of the girls in the school building had her birthday, Glen always was the one to decorate the cake. Venesia decked up the hall with streamers and photo cut-outs, while Pallavi painted a huge birthday card. Cicilia was the singer and Roberta the crazy little dancer. Together these teenagers made sure that each girl felt special on her birthday in the hostel.

The girls had all come to stay in the hostel when they were young. They were orphaned in different circumstances. Glen's parents died in the cold. Venesia was found in the homeless shelter and since she was just a baby they didn't know what to do with her. Mrs Hannigan had received the call from the shelter late into the night. She had gone first thing in the morning and picked up little Venny and brought her to the shelter. Her daughter, Cici, was approximately the same age. Pallavi's father had died while driving home from work. And her extremely young mother did not want to have any memory left of her previous life when she remarried a US citizen a year later. Roberta, or Bobbie, just walked up to the shelter when she was seven - confident and knowing exactly what she wanted. The younger girls knew that the five friends would be the best to turn to in case anyone needed any help, and also the worse kinds to have as an enemy. To Mrs Hannigan, the girls were her world. They brought about every joy she wanted. If Cici made her smile, the whole group together would make sure that the smile stayed put for the whole night.

Little Randy has her birthday tomorrow. She has been praying since morning for a new doll. Hand me down ones are the only dolls she has ever played with in the shelter. Cici tries to explain the financial problems on how they could all share, and how an old doll is much better because it also needs a new friend. Pallavi has been trying to make a new rag doll for her from her old polka dotted skirt which doesn't fit her anymore. She has always been good at sewing and crafts, though for difficult embroideries she has to run to the cook - plump Mrs Zafon - for help.

Parties are simple in the hostel. There is a cake, baked by Mrs Zafon and then decorated with whatever candies or toppings the girls are in love with at the moment. Venesia and Pallavi worked together in decorating and painting. Often they ran into Cicilia who would try to belt out new versions of Happy Birthday to you and YMCA and Shiny Disco Balls. Bobbie giggled every time she heard it, but then she never let anyone down. She would dance. And make everyone dance along with her. Even Mrs Hannigan had to come up and 'shake a leg'.

This time too everyone is busy making the preparations. Everyone is busy enough to not notice Randy when she goes to taste her stolen handful of candies. Busy enough to not remember about Mrs Hannigans blood pressure medicines. And then it happened. While they danced, with Randy in the middle of the circle, Mrs Hannigan fell on the couch. The girl's excitement had taken the best of her. She was old now. In her 50's. As she breathed her last, she thought of those five girls. She knew they would take care of the younger ones. They knew of her savings, they would be able to handle it for some time. But then, would they ever laugh again, with this sudden responsibility? Would they be able to sing and dance like they are doing now? The music for them would stop as soon as she stopped breathing. And yet, she couldn't hold on any longer...

30 day challenge. Day # 2

Write a story that includes: a tombstone, a first kiss, and a butterfly collection…

Mili was seven when Uno came to the house. The doctor had said its better to keep her happy in her last days. Her parents had cried the whole night. Doctor Roy, from Hazra Medical College had tried to console them. As a family friend and the consulting oncologist. Mili hadn't understood the fuss. All she wanted was her mother to come and sit next to her and massage her belly. That usually worked to ease the pain. She could hardly even hear the words being spoken.

Once she got a bit better, after a particularly nasty session of chemo, her daddy brought home a little Labrador puppy. Almost golden in colour and extremely energetic, Uno - as he was named by Mili on the very first day - became her best friend. She stopped missing her friends from school, whom she anyway met less and less with all her treatments. Uno and Mili became inseparable. Food would have to be served for both at the same time. Uno would not eat till Mili had her food in the mickey bowl. The only person who could give Uno a bath was Mili. And while taking that shower Uno would screech and Mili would sing a tune and together would make an unholy chorus, loud enough to make the neighbours come out of their houses.

Evenings, Mili would go into their backyard, carefully trying to avoid her mother kitchen garden. Uno would follow, sniffing the cauliflower leaves as he passed. Mili collected colourful butterflies in a big glass jars. Her mother kept a net instead of the lid, so that the butterflies wouldn't die. Next morning she would let them go from the terrace. Uno never really understood why she had to let them go. They looked perfectly edible to him. Mili must not be hungry in the mornings, Uno thought.

Everyone knew Mili would not live for long. The disease had spread pretty fast. And even though there were days when she couldn't walk from one side of the room to the other, her parents always hoped for a miracle. She was their little princess. The relatives had been insensitive and suggested that they should try for another child, or else they would be left completely alone after Mili is gone. But they could never imagine replacing Mili.

Day before yesterday she had started feeling weak again. She coughed up blood and was too weak to even lift her head. Uno came and snuggled next to her. He licked her hand, letting her know its going to be alright. Usually Mili kissed him whenever he showed affection like that, but today she was too weak to do that. Her mother pulled Uno and took him out of the room. As Mili cried here, they could hear Uno barking in the living room. Everyone tried to say their last goodbye.

Today, standing on the graveyard, Mili is trying to recite a 5-line poem for Uno. Uno passed away on the couch in the living room. He must have been scared of the dark. And while everyone was gathering around Mili, no one noticed him running around wildly, trying to make sense of it all.

Mili's parents felt sad. They knew Mili's time would come soon too. But at least she would have someone waiting for her!!!

30 day challenge. Day # 1

You move into a new flat. Everything is perfect. Except this horrible thing you didn't count on first...

Wonda moves into a new apartment. On the surface, the place seemed ideal, but her first night there, Wonda discovers a terrible problem with the place that she didn't take into account.

It is only after Wonda had changed into her white and blue striped shorts that she smells it. This smell - which can't be described as a stench, nor as a perfume. It is just a smell. Something she has smelled before. But she just can't put her finger on it.

She checks the kitchen. Behind the fridge her landlord has provided with the flat. Under the sink to see if some erst-while spilled gravy had dried up there. Nothing. Everything looks clean.

Wonda thinks of what she has to do in office tomorrow. One meeting post lunch, three reports to be finished and maybe one or two diagrams to be made sense of. Tuesdays aren't so bad. Except she has to see Vikram again. Vikram sits on her right. And he cracks awful jokes and gets offended if she doesn't laugh at those. And no matter how she tries she can't ignore Vikram. He is a nice person underneath his I-am-too-cool-to-care look. And to top it all off, he lives somewhere in Bhakti Park too, she has heard. Oh well. One must face their enemies sooner or later. And in cases like this, everyday.

She must call her sister in Delhi before she goes off to sleep. Everyone at home has been worries about her shifting to a new house. But then she couldn't keep living with her uncle and aunt for ever, could she? What worries her most was the food. She has very limited knowledge of cooking. At best she can fry an egg, boil some potatoes and whip up a spicy variety of rice with pickle. Wonda makes a mental note to learn new things.

"Hello, di"

"Wen! Why didn't you call earlier? I kept thinking you haven't even reached home. You know how all these cabbies are."

Wonda sighs. She can never make her sister realise that Bombay is not like Delhi. Yes. It might not be like home. Kerala had been quiet. But Bombay was always on the move. And hardly anyone had the time to pass comments. It probably also helped that the government doesn't let rich Punjabi lads in Bombay run around with guns.

"Oh di. You worry for nothing. It's ok. I was just busy cleaning up."

"Did you eat?"

"uh-huh".

"Wennn???"

Oh damn. She always caught her fibs. "I had snacks in the evening. Not hungry any more."

Truth was Wonda was craving her mom's tamarind rice. With so much going on in her life, she just needed a known thing to make it seem alright. But she didn't quite have the energy to soak the tamarind and then cook it with rice this late.

"As you wish. You must take care of yourself"

"Yes di. Listen. I have to go to sleep. Got work early next morning. And I still have some reports to finish"

"Ok. I'll call tomorrow"

She hangs up and walks to her cupboard. Out comes her crisp white shirt and the navy blue skirt. She feels the fabric in her hand and smiles. Sitting down to iron her shirt, she starts humming an old Dev Anand song 'Hai apna dil toh awara na jane kis pe ayega'.

Once done she brings out her handbag. Those two files must be dealt with today. She fumbles inside the bag, pulls out a file. Its greasy.

Her brow furrows. She is positive she didn't put anything in this handbag. And her tiffin case was safely soaked in the sink. Then.. Oh!! And there is the smell again.

She peers into her bag. There is a small green Tupperware jar. Tilted, gravy had come out of it.

She opens it. Inside is a mixture of rice, some tamarind paste and a ..wait..an egg!! Whoever makes an egg with tamarind rice.

There is a note on the underside of the container. Wonda opens it tentatively.

"Welcome to the neighbourhood, Wonda!!! Ainda zaroorat pare toh bula lena. Get it? 'Ainda'- 'Anda'. Har har har"

Oh man! That Vikram!!!!

Japan

Japan's earthquake has claimed over 2,400 lives. And also caused immense destruction of infrastructure and business. The emails doing the round - showing satellite images of Japan before and after the tsunami - is enough to give us an idea of the magnitude of loss.

Day 4 - already three blasts at the nuclear centre. Within 10 hours, low level radio active winds would reach Tokyo - the capital of the island nation. People are scrambling for food since hospitals and health care centres - already over populated - have run out of resources. Internationally, governments are trying to help them out - financially and otherwise.

And all I can hear is how much money investors will lose now that the Japanese market, Nikkei, has crashed over 19% in two days. I DO NOT CARE!!! Fuck you and all your money, sir. Why don't you go to Japan and pick up your money from there? Maybe after you reach and see how people are trying to survive, you'd appreciate your life more than your cash.

I have always heard that Mumbai is such a city which does not stop for anything. When after the 26-11 attacks, Mumbai went back to work the next day I was amazed. I loved their guts, admired them for not giving in. But if this also means that when the whole country is in danger or has already undergone a huge loss, one would go out and make money - not to distract himself from his personal loss but to make sure he can still look for a buy-sell opportunity - then I would rather not be here.

P.S. I am not writing this because I want another post here. I am writing this cause I want to tell these stupid morons this. And I do not have the guts to do so.

I.

I dance Jazz Funk.
I groove. Or try to.
I recite poems by Tagore.
I read Harry Potter and Adichie together.
I paint.
I like glass bangles. And long earrings.
I have a tattoo on my back.
I dont believe in marriage. I think love is over rated.
Yet, I cry everytime I watch a movie.
I love to travel.
And to sleep.
I study human rights and sociology.
And I try to understand how the stock market works.
I am not religious, spiritual or ambitious.
I love bike rides but I cant ride a cycle.

I have not figured myself out yet.
Don't do it for me.

8 kms and a cloudy day

In our bid to escape from the monotony of our professional and non-existent personal lives, me and 6 of my friends, decided to go to Lonavla. It wasn't totally unplanned, nor was it organized. We knew the date of our travel but nothing else. So this is what happened...

Managed to wake up at 5.30 and still miss the train (here starts our planned way of traveling). So took a bus instead and gossiped, chatted and slept our way to the 2 hour journey to Khandala. No. None of us sang the song.

From there we took autos to Lonavla (this reminds me, I somehow always mess up by calling autos scooters, whereas the actual substitute term used here is rickshaws..) station. By now we were 'in the mood' to enjoy our trip and thus we started our trek to Bhushi dam (no pun intended). Some people were nice enough to point out that its 8 kms away and we shouldn't try walking, but we are just like any other over confident,out-to-prove-ourself Indian.

So we decided to walk it! Wonderful experience actually. Take away the extremely rowdy crowd of men/ boys who kept crossing us in their bikes, cars, or legs. I think they had this misconception of auditioning for a Dharmendra movie and were, thus, trying all sorts of vocal antics.

Anyway.. we walked and posed and walked some more..By the end of our two-hour trek we reached the destination. Took off our shoes and started wading through the muddy water. Point to be noted, beer bottle pieces do not make for a nice carpet. Almost as bad as shorts-clad overweight uncles look to the eye.

This dam was nice and peaceful, it was the adjoining staircase-like structure which was the Maharashtrian version of the Kumbh Mela. I swear on every penny I have ever earned, there were at least 500 people sitting on those steps, trying to take a bath with the water the person sitting a little way ahead just used! And the way the screamed made me think at least some of them must be from rain-starved Vidarbha. Water! water! Oh and we paid Rs 10 for a cup of chai. Poor little rich shopkeepers! blah!

Done with that, we took an auto and reached a veg (sigh!) restaurant and had our lunch. Ran to the station in the drizzling rain and somehow managed to get on the train. Another first for me, sitting on those wooden shelf type upper berths in the general compartment. Of course the trip wouldn't have been complete without one of us fighting. So we did the best thing possible - gave our voice to my roomie's struggle for a place to sit and fought way to victory! Thats just about it.

Back to Mumbai. The hills look so far away now :( I still have some money left, though. Could plan a trip to Malshej Ghat next month...