Numerous people walk into our lives everyday. Some stay, some walk away. There is one person who didn’t get a time to stay for a long time in my life. We barely knew each other for a year. That person now lives in another corner of the world, we haven’t seen each other in ages and only catch up once in a while. But that person still continues to be a source of amazing love and strength.
We sat quietly inside the class, pretending to be all innocent, when we were just waiting for the bomb in the boy’s toilet to blow off and the sound to resonate around the whole school. Bomb was one our new favourite pranks, cockroaches in the purse, bicycle-dominoes were all passe. At 14, me and my gang would have done anything for cheap thrills.
We had placed the bomb in the boy’s toilet with utmost caution. But what we didn’t take into account was that the toilets would still be visited by those in urgent need for its use. We were caught and summoned into the senior teachers cabin the next day, only to be told that had the bomb gone off a little sooner, a junior kid would have hurt himself. Read the rest of this entry
Firstly, I would like to apologize for my long absence from the blog world. I had a few concerned messages. A blog post about an accident is not a good way to leave things. With blogging comes responsibility, that I hadn’t thought about earlier. I am all good, just got caught up in work. And one more thought kept me busy. Let me tell you all about it…
We were about to head for a meeting in a minute. “Copy these pages for me, please”, I said to the new trainee at work. “I don’t know how to use a copier” she replied. I sighed. One more addition in the list of things she “did not know”. I explained how to use the copier, just like the million things that I explain to her everyday.
The new trainee is famous in the office for all the wrong reasons. She was hired because of her ‘contacts’. She has no prior experience or skills. Nor the zeal to cultivate any. And she supplements her lack of skill and will with her incredible ability to answer any ten subsequent questions with “I don’t know”. Read the rest of this entry
Think of your favorite food that you wouldn’t share with anyone. Now think of those people in your life to whom you shout a blunt “No” at any food-sharing proposal and yet they dig their spoon right in. And you knew they would. You roll your eyes at their quirky eating habits. And you still can’t help smiling. In spite of the food stealing and quirks, there are few people who would make eating so enjoyable. There are few people who touch your life like a friend does.
It is friendship’s day next Sunday. And I miss my food-stealers terribly.
“Do you like him?” she asked about a new friend of mine.
“No. We are just friends”, I replied while I kept munching on the aloo-chaat. Read the rest of this entry
I crashed in front of the TV. I love that black piece with moving pictures and how it can sometimes make you forget things. This was not one of those times.
I was finally offered the prospects of climbing the ladder at work. A chance to co-manage an event, as big as a 80,000,000 bucks worth international conference, is something I had dreamt of. I had finally got a step closer to what I had been slogging-for for a while now. When your work forms the nucleus of your existence, things like this should bring boundless bliss and cheer. But the bliss and cheer died rather quickly. Read the rest of this entry
I had a half written article on ‘forgiveness’ saved for my post. I had always been charmed by the concept and thought I would write about it. I texted a friend in Mumbai a few hours ago, “if i write another post wid the same fashion-show-backstage backdrop, wud it b 2 repetitive?”
“Yeah i dunno..rite it n see. there were bomb blasts in my area.” I read the last part of the text again. I had read it right. Bomb blast in his area.
“Wht?omg. r u ok?”
“yeah im fine”
“thank god. n all the ppl u know?”
“i hope so..”
I deleted the post I had written about forgiveness. It didn’t make any sense to me now. Read the rest of this entry
“Carol you are next. Hurry! Lekha, you’ll enter the stage from the left”, I yelled in the dressing room. Frantic assistants, unruffled designers, attentive make-up crew and skimpy or barely clad models thronged the dressing room of the fashion show. Loud music, flashy lights, designer clothes, cigarette smoke and bouquet of wine created the ambience. My part for the next 45 minutes was to put a rhythm to the frenzied chaos.
“You are next, be quick”, I said to another model after a few minutes. The assistants were attending to her clothes while she took another quick gulp of wine.
She had already consumed three cigarettes and almost a bottle of wine. She was wearing a fine gown and finer make up. She was one of the celebrated models of the country that many girls idolize. In a few minutes, a crowd of 200 would be cheering for her. She looked every bit stunning and had had enough wine to make her feel stunning too. For anybody else, nothing about her would have reflected anything but confidence.Yet when she put her glass down to take a look at the mirror, for a second the supermodel froze. Read the rest of this entry
Do you believe in ‘kismet’? Do you believe that there is a greater reason for every coincidence? Do you believe that people enter and leave our lives at an ideal time because ‘it is meant to be’? I think I do.
I used to walk to the badminton court every evening during my high school days. And I would see her on my way, watering the plants in her front yard. I would greet her with a “Namaste” and she would do the same with a charming smile. The greetings soon became a ritual that the strangers followed.
I did not know her well personally. We bumped into each other at social events a couple of times where “Namaste” got suffixed with “How are you?” Next day, we went back to the monosyllable yet pleasant greeting exchange again. I knew what her name was, that she had two kids, that she loved her plants and flowers and that she would be there watering her those flowers when I walk by in the evening.
One winter night, when I greeted her, she greeted me back with her adorable smile but there was something amiss. Her eyes were red and swollen; her demeanor lethargic yet tense. But she smiled with all her heart and her voice did not quiver on the “Namaste”. I presumed she had fever and I kept walking. Read the rest of this entry