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The Perfect Date – A fiction

Tuxedo? na! A double breasted suit would be perfect…so would that be just a casual jacket and denim. Rohan was never the one to make decisions in a go he would always be ambivalent of things when it came to Ani. It had been three years together but still he did all to impress her.

While Ananya was meticulous it wasn’t so difficult to impress her. She would see him smile and just say you look amazing Rohan and build heart felt praises till he blushed.

Rohan had taken Ani for many dates but this was the first time she had popped the question while walking hand in hand at Marine Drive on Saturday.

“Rohan…” she always paused after taking his name

“ÿeah Ani” he responded casually walking

“I wanted to ask you out on a date?” she was already blushing

Rohan stopped in his tracks turned and looked at her and beamed, paused and walked after a minute of no exchange of words he turned again and smile, “Would love to!”

Rohan scrolled his WhatsApp and checked the date and venue, Tuesday, Albert hall, 20.00. His addled brain was trying to guess, preempt on what it could be at a hall that big. He set his hair one more time, breathed on his palm to check his breath and left for Albert Hall.

Just as he parked his car another message pinged, the first hall on the right corner, 1st floor sealed with a kiss emocon. The venue was a tall medieval kind of a building with a huge entrance which opened in a big hall with a very broad staircase in the centre. He hurried to the said hall on the right first floor. It was dark as his footsteps echoed in the room. He walked to the centre of the huge hall but no sign of Ananya. He looked around as the sunset beam of summer lightly lit the room through the glass windows.The huge golden drapes fell silkily down the windows and the panelled walls shimmered in gold tapestry. He was mesmerised looking around when he hit a spotlight right in front of him.

Ananya stood there in a sensuous flowing white chiffon see through dress looking seductively at him. The corset dress had a plunging neckline showing her cleavage that had his heart thumping. Her hair left lose set shiny brown in the spotlight as her grace needed no other accessory. He absorbed her in a moment admiring her elegance. She walked on her toes as the spot light followed her and stopped just a heartbeat away from Rohan.

He managed a whispered hi under his racing heart as she placed her finger over his lips and smiled. He delicately kissed her finger and breathed deep to her lavender fragrance. She walked back just a step when the music played a romantic song. She flicked her legs getting closer and held his hand to dance. Rohan held her hand and matched her moves. Ananya’s hip swung as he lightly lifted her and she rolled under his hand hugging him from behind and swinging to the groove. Her eyes kissed him and hands caressed as she danced with him sensuously on salsa moves. Romance was personified and love twisted on the crisp turns as he held her curves every time they moved. Lost in each other she was luscious and nubile to him and he alluring and desirable.

ed2

They danced forgetting the world in each others arms till he held her close and placed her on the piano. She looked at him ravenously her back straight as his hand lazily moved on her bare back. Ananya exhaled on Rohan’s lips holding his face close and he thumb on his cheek and finger brushing his neck. She teased him gently stroking his lips barely kissing them. He closed his eyes when she moaned feeling his hands tighten around and her lips parted. He took over and gently tilted his face to kiss her. The kissed completing each other, they kissed baring it all and they kissed embracing the imperfections to make them one.They made a beautiful “US” and fitted perfectly.

edThe evening passed over a quiet dinner telling each other the little things they loved in their perfect world. Rohan loved her woman to sweep him off his feat and Ananya was the real woman who needed no weapons she was armoured enough to know what her man wanted and possessed his keys.

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I am unforgiving

forgiveYou see me writing poems, creating fiction or sharing travel stories. But I came across Nitin’s post and something churned in me to write. Its seldom when I invite my readers to my views, not that I am always sitting on fence playing safe but I am that breed that speaks directly from the heart and in this time and age….thats rare…speaking sans diplomacy.

Nitin in his post Is Forgiveness so Difficult?, speaks how forgiveness is a difficult thing to do and how the soul is much lighter when it truly forgives.

In my very long life of experiences I have seen much to really talk of forgiveness. I have seen people turn their backs on me when I needed them the most. I have also seen people dupe me to believe something which on the face of it was untrue. I have had my heart broken over deceit. I have lost loved ones over failed and chicanery relations.

Yes we all know scars remain and time heals everything, I wouldn’t waste a second over something that redundant. I am a believer in Karma and every time I faced something like that I let go thinking one day I will face God and ask him why? I am also a believer of having to pay it here before we leave this world and thus I in my timidity never took things in my hand.

But did that mean I forgave them? Would not forgiving be called selfish? And was that easy? Was I seeking revenge?

I can’t Forgive: Thats where I differed with Nitin’s view, I can’t forgive any wrong done to me. By that it isn’t not returning the INR 20 someone borrowed. It means something that affects my life and turns it into a brouhaha. Why would I forgive…was the act not done in senses? what right did anyone have to cause such pain and harm?

It isn’t Easy: Forgiving is easy, I have never been a person who believed in the word MOVE ON. No I don’t mean that we live in the past and hang on to pain and stop living but if we get into the act of forgiving are we not just taking ourselves so much for granted for anyone to walk over our feelings and cause hurt?

Does anyone really forgive? The answer for me is no. In today’s times. People find several other ways to occupy themselves that just fills the vacuum to call it I FORGAVE. The bricks are welcome but the truth remains. Most of us just fill the gaps left to make ourselves too busy to notice the hurt or wait for time to handle it living it like a slow poison day after day till we get so used to pain that we stop feeling it one day and we call it forgiving.

So how do I survive? Over the years I have mastered the act of talking myself out of such hurt. The idea is not to forgive and I can never forget (I wouldn’t want to forget). I make peace with myself and I have faith, a very strong faith into something beyond God who takes care of things in its own manner. I let it pass, day after day, living the hurt till it leaves a scar but call me small or flawed, I can’t forgive a hurt that destroyed. My heart and mind meet at a common crossroad, a consensus and that gives immense peace. I feel the same as what forgiveness would make me feel. Released of thoughts, no void, no emotion or attachment, no bad tastes, lighter. Yes they have said their sorries and felt it too, accepted but trust totally denied.

Revenge? No. definitely not, I believe we all carry a balance sheet and acts of revenge would just mean adding negatives to it. It would cut short our chance of going up to the entity and asking the WHY question. Revenge is never an answer to things.

Note: It is a very opinionated post, dogmatic you can say. But it does take courage to stand and accept who you are. Also it also depends on each’s experiences in life. We all have seen the acts of Karma and I very recently came across someone who hurt me,  that made me believe what goes around comes around very strong, while I prayed for his life to be full of happiness, somewhere it reinstated the fact that entity balances our deeds and we need to take care of what we do in life to ourselves and others.

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My Quotes – 3 Day quote challenge – Day 2

I have been nominated by my blogger friend Dipanwita Chakraborty for a 3 day quote challenge. While I would have loved to share some beautiful quotes that have stayed with me which I read of other authors, I would like to share something from my upcoming novel, hope you like it 🙂

Love left us

 

The rules are simple.

  1. Post a favorite quote of yours for 3 consecutive days,  obviously  a different quote each day from any book, any author of your choice. It could also be your own quote.
  2. Nominate 3 bloggers with each post to challenge them.
  3. Thank the person who nominated you.

My Nominations for day 2 are:

Lata Subramanian

Sreesha Divakaran

Ashish kumar

 

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An unusual love letter

unusual love letter hn1

 

letter en

My post is a hope and motivation filled dedication to all Paraplegia patients in the world. Paraplegia is a spinal cord injury that results in an impairment in motor or sensory function of the lower half of a person’s body. In India there are around 10,000 new cases out of which 82% are men in the age group of 18-30 years. You can read more here

Sources: Content and Image – Shweta Dave

 

 

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Bang Bang – That Awful Sound!

Ananya clad in a burka just to avoid acquaintances, turned right onto the narrow Barauni lane, she read the piece of paper from under her veil, Room no 113, Kisbar makaan, Barauni road, Bihar 851116 it read. She was in the right lane as she paced to find the said building.

“Bhaijaan….Bhaijaan” she hushed knocking the door.

“ji, aayiye.” Abdul said opening the door.

“Is it ready?” enquired Ananya.

“How many?” questioned Abdul.

“Two.” confirmed Ananya.

“Ok.” Abdul walked to the other room where the karigars (workers) were seated engrossed working. Ananya sat on a rolled cotton mattresses looking nervously around the dusty dingy room. She kept shaking her legs making her restlessness evident. Abdul returned in 5 minutes. She got up but again sat down after Abdul gestured her to do so.

“These are the best handmade pistols in India. Munger made pistol come with a guarantee of never giving up on the owner. “ he said with utmost pride assembling the pistols.

“One magazine is free with each piece. Hope you know how to operate it? Do you want it for yourself? Why two?” He looked at her handing one of them on her hand.

“No…no I don’t.” As Ananya held it with trembling hands.

Adbul demoed it to her without firing a shot. Ananya tried it on another the same way. He wrapped both in a piece of cloth and gave it to her.”

“I am giving this to you as you are Nisreen’s friend. Handle with care, it’s no joke.” He warned her.

Ananya kept the wrapped pieces in her bag that hung from her shoulder. “ji bhaijaan.” She responded handing over the bundle of notes to Abdul. “It’s as agreed 30 for 2.”

“Where did you arrange this Ananya?” he questioned again.

Ananya just turned and walked silently, she would never tell anyone that she robbed her own house of the money kept for her marriage.

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

“True lovers we are.” Anupam said in a confident tone kissing Ananya’s forehead. He scanned the surroundings swiftly not a soul except for the maize crop that swayed with the wind.

“My parents will never agree or understand our true love. They have never understood me in the past 16 years.” Ananya said handing over the cloth wrapped pistol.

“I know, I know. My family is my father and where has he understood me in past 23 years, I never tried convincing him for any girl I had an affair with earlier, I love you truly and tried telling him and what did I get a slap in return. No one can understand us Ananya, no one. Have you not heard of all the true love stories, the give up on their lives for oneness.” Spoke Anupam boastfully.

“My ma loves me a lot; I don’t know what will happen of her. My father, I am the only child. I am scared Anupam, are we doing right?” Ananya was scared and sceptical.

“I always knew your love was not true. True lovers never question, they just sacrifice. They don’t chicken out like you. What will you love when you can’t do this much. You are ordinary just like others. ” Exclaimed Anupam angrily.

“No, please don’t be upset. I know this is the only way to be together. I have faith. I will do anything for our union, our oneness.” She said picking up the pistol.

“Okay.” Anupam picked the pistol too.

“Now listen to me carefully. I will count 3….2….and at the count of 1, we both say I love you and shoot. Here…” he said pointing at his heart. They both stood up, he smooched her deep before pushing her a foot apart pointing the pistol at her. Ananya tried to hold the pistol straight with unsteady hands.

“3….” Anupam said aloud.

“2….” He continued.

“1…..”

“I love….” Ananya whispered with a choked voice tears rolling down her face.

A gun shot disturbed all the birds as they scattered in the evening sky chirping loud. One body fell on the ground with a bullet hit in the head. Anupam walked towards her, shook the body with his foot. He pulled her dupatta and placed it on her head. He walked away smiling without remorse screaming “I love you Ananya, I love you…..Love…hahah…my foot.”  His phone rang, the name flashed Nisreen.

This post is my written variation to the song I am addicted to these days. Watch it and join the addiction, do not miss the video.

Featured image source: Bang bang

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Sharmaji gets Stylish.

 
„Hold the mirror up on the right side Loveleen, I can’t see a thing.” Sharmaji said irritatingly.
“Oh ho, I really don’t understand this ritual of yours every month.” Said Loveleen frustrated.
“Cutting ones hair is a bad thing right?” Sharmaji quizzed.
“No, it isn’t. But trying to save 25 rupees and doing it at home is the issue. And be very careful the scissor is razer sharp.”
“Ok, ok I get that, now will you hold the mirror right so that I can manage the cut well.”
Loveleen kept holding the mirror as Sharmaji adjusted his face looking closely at the mirror in from of him and getting a rear view of his hair as Loveleen held the one behind him.
He was about to get a measure and cut when Loveleen shouted, “Ohhhhhh nooooooo, my dal, its burning….the cooker.” She dashed the mirror on the washbasin and ran to the kitchen.
Sharmaji gave an angry look, “I don’t understand her at all”, and he told himself nodding his head.
He picked up the mirror in one hand and tried to get a look of his locks above his nape and continued.
“OH MY GOD, Loveleen.” He cried out in terror.
Loveleen came back running and so did his younger daughter Gutti.
Loveleen shrieked, “Sharmaji, what have you done?” Gutti tried hard but could not contain her laughter. She immediately picked her phone and clicked him and sent it to her elder sister Pinky on whatapp with a caption, Dad spotted in a new look LOL and two winky smilees.”
“Is it all gone?” Sharmaji was now tensed.
Loveleen held his face examining his hair, “No, a big chunk of it till I can see your skull, hmmmm may be the size of a motichoor laddoo.”
Sharmaji started sweating as he tried feeling the portion of his head where he accidentally grazed a major chunk of his hair.
“You can’t do that with scissors, what did you do?”
“Well, you see this!” He picked up the automatic razor and displayed it to them, the girls had given me on my birthday to get rid of my nose, ears and chest hair….I used that thinking it would be quicker than the scissors, I didn’t in my dream think, it would do this.”
By this time Gutti had run into her room and was literally rolling on the floor with laughter.
“What do we do now Loveleen? Sharmaji moved his head from left to right to get a stock of the damage done.
“Do you want to consider getting rid of it all completely?
“You mean bald…”
“You already have a receding hairline, try it.”
“What try it, my father and your father in law is still alive ok, don’t you ever say try it…”He said utterly frustrated at this suggestion.
Gutti ran to the scene again, trying to maintain a serious face but burst out again as she saw him. Loveleen looked at her with big eyes and she stopped, gulping her chuckle uttered, “Dad I think, Di is not going to like it, I mean it’s her Arangetram (*it is a public graduation performance for a dance form) tomorrow. And you would be called on stage too! You know what I mean?” She somehow managed saying that without laughing.
“How about wearing a wig?” She continued trying to sound serious.
Sharmaji and Loveleen looked at her startled. “His hair is still there, not gone, it’s just the rear right which is bald…well not bald but…” She stopped realizing the panic Sharmaji was in. Sharmaji had just  stabilized and was accepting the fact of what had happened.
All three stood looking at each other in the bathroom. “Isn’t it stuffy here.” Gutti said breaking the silence, “Can we at least move out of this place.” Gutti said walking slowly out of the bathroom. Loveleen and Sharmaji followed.
Just then Pinky rushed in, dropped her bag near the door and “Dad, what did you do? I mean it’s my function tomorrow. I have been waiting so long for this day.” She immediately stopped looking at Sharmaji’s embarrassed face.
He turned back to display his doing to Pinky. It was now feeling like what a model feels on the ramp when there is a wardrobe malfunction. Pinky’s jaw dropped at the faux pas she was witnessing. She could visualize her friends mocking and laughing at her.
Half an hour into the drama and things were sinking in. Great ideas came up.
How about putting in some fake hair and sticking it there? – Pinky
Can we just take some brush bristles and cover the big patch? – of course Gutti
The Dhony look, it’s in vogue! – Pinky, trying to make his father look cool and mod.
A cap or a hat, you like Dev Anand, isn’t it, but would that cover the required? – puzzled Loveleen.
Sharmaji closed his eyes and sat there on the sofa. With renewed determination he got up like a soldier who has made up his mind to win the battle or like the way Archimedes would have said “Eureka!”
He went into the bathroom and locked himself for 1.5 hours. The girls roamed up and down in the living room trying to guard their neighbor Leena coming home and Loveleen knocked the door sometimes concerned and sometimes giving a pep talk. Later all were quiet and got back to their chores.
Sharmaji walked confidently to the living room, his demeanor was different. He had colored his hair all black after 10 years. He wore the shirt, trouser and blazer that he was to wear for the function and the biggest change was he rolled a woolen scarf that matched the blazer, hit the patch successfully and overall looked splendid.
There was pin drop silence, he looked at all three of them, finally his confidence was giving in and nervously he said, “What, not ok?”
All three unanimously said, “Sharmaji, you look awesome and so young. Love you.” As all three hugged him altogether.
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Never ending wait

„Are you upset at me, again? “ Ananya asked lovingly.
“Look, Rohan, I don’t like to be late on purpose you know that. Now stop looking at me like that with a sullen face please.” She said pushing the bunch of yellow lilies towards him.
One of the lilies moved with the breeze and touched his face. She picked it, kissed it and kept it back again.
He always called her in this garden when the world would want to meet for movies, coffee or restaurants. She felt it was their time together where she could always talk at length, free without being nudged by anyone.  
“Did I tell you about my dream…of course it was our dream?” He remained silent looking at her radiant face and a strand of hair constantly flowing from her cheek and getting stuck to her lips as she spoke. As the zephyr played with her hair, she pulled the strand and neatly tucked it behind her ear and it playfully flew on her cheek again. She let it be.
Rohan looked affectionately, this dream came in as a harbingerof the same story she repeated every time they met.
She started,” We were sitting in this same park, talking sweet nothings to each other. Planning the way we would want our parents to know about us. You did suggest you being the only child of your parents; they should come and talk to mine.”
A ball came and hit Rohan’s leg. Ananya playfully picked it up and threw it towards the child and continued. “My brother came and asked me to reach home urgently as Ma had fallen off the stairs. You immediately asked me to rush and promised me to come back and meet you in this park.”
“Rohan, since that day I have been coming here to meet you and ask you what happened and you have just chosen to not respond.”
He said nothing and sat in deadening stillness.
She too sat there in silence, whining and coaxing to get an answer but in vain. The ingénue Ananya as always picked up the flowers left it near him and left with a promise to meet the next day.
मज़ार  -ए -कैस पर जब रूहे लैला इक दिन आयी 
तोह अरमानों के मुरझाए कुछ फूल भी लायी 
लगी जब फूल वह रखने तोह कब्र से आवाज़ आयी 
चढ़ाना फूल जानेमन मगर आहिस्ता आहिस्ता। 
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The unwanted.



„What about these scars doctor? “she asked holding the mirror looking at her face.

“That’s alright; some scars take a lifetime to heal.” said Dr. Sunil in a pacifying tone.

“When can I leave, doctor?” She stared at the open window seeing the children play in the garden as the morning rays of sun fell on the freshly mowed garden.

“In a day or two Ananya.” exclaimed Dr. Sunil looking at the reports.

“Does she have the address?” he asked Bela privately. Bela nodded.

She gave one look at the hospital where she spent almost 18 months and picked up the bag filled with toys, a gift pack and a pair of her clothes that Bela had gifted her on Diwali.

“If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.”

“With closed ones too?”

“You don’t expect from strangers do you?”

She would have pulled the stuffed kangaroo and felt it and put it in her bag several times in the 5 hour train journey. She inquisitively looked outside the window thinking of how things get to normalcy, just didn’t seem that the state had the worst terrorist attack just 18 months back.

She was excited and nervous at the same time.

“We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face… we must do that which we think we cannot.”

“But that’s my family; they will support me and make me confident.”

“Hopefully, Amen.”

She reached the front courtyard, ‘Nayaks’ the name plate made by her still hung there. She felt it with her fingers before opening the gate to the front courtyard. She had replayed the scene of her daughter running to her, her husband so happy and pleasant hugging her so many times that she actually knew her words and had rehearsed them several times.

The door was open; as she entered she could see the toys lying in the living room giving her the assurance of her daughter will be in her arms in no time now. Her aunt came down the stairs and was frozen after seeing her. She took several minutes to react, followed by a forced hug.

“Aunty, aren’t you happy, surprised to see me?” Said Ananya looking at her aunt’s expressionless face.

After a long pause, “yes, Ananya, I am, in fact we did get a letter from the hospital just a day back of your return. Come sit in the living room.”

That wasn’t her aunt’s natural self. Why I am treated like an outsider, thought Ananya. She entered the living room; one look around felt as if the house was being taken care of. She each day would think how would they manage without her. In one corner she saw a small picture of her placed on the side table. She remembered the words of being confident and positive and after all it was natural for them to think she lost her life in the blast that took place when she had been to the market.

She sat on the edge of her sofa quietly rubbing her one feet on another, nervously clinging to her bag wanting nothing but to see her husband and daughter, she must have been 4 years by now.

After a while her daughter, Ira rushed in the living room, Ananya could no longer contain herself and broke down in tears as she grabbed her and hugged her hard. She swiftly removed all the toys she had got for her and placed her on her lap.

“Ira, did you miss mumma, my princess?”

Ira immediately rushed to her father and wrapped to his leg dropping the stuffed kangaroo on the way.

“Ananya.” called out Rohan.

She rose.

“How have you been?”

She was jolted by the formality that wrapped the question. It was nothing like what she had thought it to be.

“One ought to hold on to one’s heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too.”

“Why would I want to think with my head, my family needs my heart?”

“Depends on the situation and the circumstance, now you will always need both.”

She brought herself to reality and handed the gift she had got in his hands.

“Rohan, honey, are you home?” she said as she entered the house.

The voice sounded familiar as she walked straight to the living room and stood next to Rohan.

“Oh…” giving a startled look, “Ananya….it’s you.” She looked at Ananya and immediately glanced at Rohan.

That was Ruchi, her first cousin, but what was she doing in my house? Her addressing Rohan as honey, Ananya was trying to put the puzzle pieces in place when her aunt broke the ice, “I think you must be tired Ananya, why don’t you rest?”

“The first step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.”

“What if I don’t like the change?”

“Then think what if you do not have a choice of changing the change?”

She picked her bag still blank at what was happening looking at the faces around knowing she was the unwanted one. She knew that Ruchi would have come to support her child as she was too young, but she had to know more. Ananya being an orphan was raised by her aunt and was not among those  jump at things and seek explanations.

“We tried really hard to find you for several months. Hospitals, police, posters all, but no trace. We finally placed your picture on the market square and even joined the candle march to force government to act.” Rohan said trying hard to sound convincing at the dinner table.

“It was generous of Ruchi, to then come here and take up the family responsibility for Ira….”added her aunt.

“And Rohan…” Ruchi completed pressing Rohan’s hand sitting next to him at the dinning.

“Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.”

“Can reality hurt?”

“Depends if what you want out of reality is not a dream.”

She had not uttered a word but been a silent listener. The pain she had lived in the past few hours was more than what she went through in her treatment of 18 months. She passed by to keep her plate when she overheard…

“How long has she come for?” Ruchi said in a hushed tone.

“I don’t know, I don’t think you need to overreact.” Rohan replied.

“And did you see her face, it’s full of scars, Ira will have nightmares every night. I can’t let her be here in my house. Get that straight.” She came out slamming the door behind her.

Ananya washed her plate and tip toed to the room. She sat on the bed and picked up the book with the grey writings of her conversations with Bela over the 18 months which Bela had penned and handed over before her leaving. The last page was an address and two notes of INR 1000 each.

“If you ever reach this page and feel the need, the doors are open and you have the address.”

Next day there was no trace of Ananya in the Nayak’s house.

She left a note, “I wasn’t a pile on Rohan and will never be; now my life awaits me.”

She came back to the hospital and Dr. Sunil employed her as an intern at his hospital. Her life had just begun.

 

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Sharmaji ka Happy Birthday!

„Hello Madam “Sharmaji yelled, looking up from his balcony at the flat above. “You, madam, yellow sari. Stop drying your clothes here, all water drops on my plants. My coriander has died twice.” He tried looking up again when a splash of water fell on his face along with the blouse that rested straight on his spectacles.

“Aye, uncle, whom are you calling yellow sari. If I don’t dry my clothes in balcony where do I?” Leena stretched her vocals to reach Sharma’s ears.

Loveleen ran to the balcony and pushed Sharmaji, “Arre Leenaji, please do dry your clothes and don’t mind what Sharmaji just said.”

She held him by his arm and as he moved the piece of cloth and tried cleaning the lens “Don’t you realise she gives us curd, sugar when we run out of it, I have few friends don’t you get cross at her.”

Sharmaji got busy reading the maintenance bill dated 25thJuly, 2014 (today) adjusting his spectacles not heeding to any of what his wife said.

Meet Vinod Sharma, 44 year old, sorry 43 years, 11 months and 29 days old insurance agent with State bank of India.  He stays in a 1 BHK house in Dadar with his wife Loveleen (38) and 2 daughters Pinky (16) and Gutti (12).

“Oh that Tiwari has again charged me interest on maintenance; I will show him now and teach him what he has not learnt in his MBA.” He murmured frustrated wearing his shirt.

“Sharmaji, don’t wear the shirt out and comb your hair before going. No doubt people call me your eldest daughter. Do get your medical report before coming.”

Sharmaji opened the door “I will get that tomorrow, Loveleen” and Pinky barged in, “Hi dad.”

“Call me papa.” He muttered still engrossed reading the bill walking out.

“Mom, we will have a surprise party for dad’s birthday day after. My friend, Joe has started a DJ and catering service. I have promised him to be his first good luck customer.” Pinky exclaimed in a typical teenager tone.

“Do what you like, we have a budget of Rs. 2000 including gift. You have to manage in that.” Loveleen warned.

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

“Hello, myself Vinod Sharma, have my reports arrived?” Sharmaji enquired at the hospital.

“Gupte, get me Sharma’s report, put on today’s date, 26thJuly; 2014” retorted the plump lab assistant of DR. Shroff.  Gupte, a 68 year old admin found Sharmaji’s report among the lot that was stacked and handed it to the assistant.

“Take the report and wait for the doctor, he wants to meet you.” She directed Sharmaji.

Sharmaji sat on the posh leather sofa thinking these hospitals are no less than a 5 star hotels. He looked at the semi-nude paintings from a renowned painter what they these days call as investments. The 3 Sony LEDs played different channels as people in the waiting room got glued to each of them. The audience was clear, the 50 plus to the screen playing news, the women on the daily soap operas and the youngsters which had a B grade hero moving his booty to a C grade song, which after putting on spectacles read TOOH, whatever it meant.

“Vinod Sharma, third cabin from left.” the lab assistant called out.

“Sharmaji, do you have a very hectic life, are you too stressed?” Dr. Shroff was a leading Oncologist in town. Sharmaji has a family history of cancer and thus had a norm of getting a yearly regular check-up.

“No, why doctor.I mean who doesn’t these days.” Sharmaji asked puzzled.

“See it happens, life these days is stressful and there are treatments for everything.” said the doctor patiently.

“Doctor, what are you talking about? What has happened to me? Be clear before my heart pops out of my body.” Sharmaji said nervously fidgeting with his shirt corner.

“Ok, you have a rare cancer; it is grade III and stage III. Not much can be done but treatment and hope.”

Sharmaji could not believe what he had just heard. There was no point in doubting the doctor. The drudgeries of life had made him restless, anxious and to an extent pessimist.

“How much time do I have, doctor?” The typical filmy question, as he wiped the sweat of his brow and tears that had welled up under his glasses.

“4-6 months, with treatment we can delay it, don’t you worry.” Doctor placed his hand on Sharmaji’s trying to give hope.

“I am a dying man, what difference does it make 6 months or a year” Sharmaji stood up dejected, picked up his report and turned to leave.

He kept reading the report  which made no sense to him listening to zindagi kaisi hai paheli haaye that played the autorickshaw…..thinking of his investments and insurance policy that he can leave for his family.

Sharma reached home, did not eat lunch and had a few morsels for dinner. He started looking more ill than he felt. His voice mellowed with every response to his family. He kissed his daughters again and again.

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

“How many times have I told you, do not watch movies early morning?” He yelled at Gutti.

“Dad, it’s not morning, its 10 am and its 27th July, 2014, a Sunday!” She energetically said.

Brought back to reality, Sharma opened his diary (he decided to keep one since he left the doctors) and marked the day in tally mark III, “yes beta, Please watch, by the way what movie are you watching.” He said in the softest tone his daughter had ever heard.

“Eh?” she said surprised at his tone. “Dasvidaniya, meaning goodbye, the best part is the hero puts on the list of ten things to be done before death.” She replies her eyes glued to the TV.

“Oh, who can relate it more than me?” He whispered to himself, thinking no one remembers his birthday.. Well good for them, they will get over my loss soon, thinking to himself.

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

Sharmaji had slept more in the last three days than he had in the entire month. After all he was suffering from a fatal disease and had only some time left. He got up from his bed at 7.00 pm and walked to the living room.

“Happpppyyyy Birthday Dad!!!!¨” cheered Pinky among all the relatives and friends.

“Call me pa….You can call me dad” he said with a half-smile as people surrounded to wish him.

He was overwhelmed, nervous, and sad but had thought of keeping all happy for whatever of him was left.

Relatives made merry, talked to him and his answers got even more philosophical.

The DJ blew the speakers as his daughters and friends danced to TOOH. Loveleen served starters as Sharmaji sat at the table looking at the burning candles on the cake.

“Sharmaji, I am extremely sorry, I will not dry my clothes in the balcony now and you can eat your coriander.” Leena chuckled.

“Your clothes have more life than I do, I am a dying coriander.” said Sharmaji.

“Oh you are a humorous man.” Leena replied.

What a dying man has but humor, Sharma thought to himself when Loveleen gestured him to attend a phone call for him.  

He picked up with a more than sad “Hello, myself Vinod Sharma.”

“Sharmaji, I am lab assistant from Dr. Shroff’s hospital, I am really sorry the report you have is of another patient. Your reports are normal and you have no cancer. Our admin, Gupte, not being good at computers, typed the wrong name and mixed it. We are really sorry. Please forgive this. You have no disease.” The line cut abruptly.

Sharma could not believe what he has just heard. On one hand he was angry at the so called high class hospitals but the happiness exceeded his anger, he ran to the room like a guy in his 20’s and shouted out of happiness. He relished the starters and the cake, joked and lightly flirted with Leena and even danced to TOOH. However Vinod Sharma being him, did not forget to ask the DJ how much had his daughters blew cash on his birthday.

 
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It takes two to Tango!

“The tea is on the table. “ She said in a disconcerting tone as she sat on the adjacent chair of the round dining table with 4 chairs.
“You know I have never had tea without you, Ananya.” He replied in a consoling tone.

“So?” She exclaimed.

“Why do you always think I am at fault? Is asking for your time and hearing you are busy my lookout? You should have never got married if you didn’t have time for me.” She grabbed her breath by the time the last words came out of her mouth.

“I promise I will take care, Ananya. I will try really hard to live up to your expectations.” He lovingly said picking up the yellow lilies and presenting it to her. “I love you, now hug me.” He demanded.

“No, you hug me.” She hushed, looking at the flowers and smelling them.

He got up and embraced her tight.

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

Ananya sat at the table looking at the phone; she picked it up the 17th time to check for messages. All she saw was he last sent, “You never have time for me, all I hear is I am busy.”

She put the phone down again, wishing there were an alarm that warned, “You are seeing your phone too much!”

Restless and anxious she walked up and down the living room, glancing at the tea cup, phone, chair and door…as she paced up through the room….tea cup, phone, chair, door…tea cup, phone, chair and door..tea cup, phone, chair and door!
She played the scene again and again in her mind to the extent that she edited it and was ready for a hug the minute the doorbell would ring.

The doorbell rang; she rushed to open it…

Door open!

Arms almost ready!

“Madam, bag, sahib aayenge abhi!” I just missed a faux pas, she thought to herself.

She dejectedly tuned to walk back, tea cup, phone, chair…

Footsteps…

She turned!

“Sharma, I don’t know anything, you got to make the payment available. I am answerable to my senior.” He rushed in talking to someone, straight to his bed room!

Ananya sat at the chair and sipped the tea, scrolling through the WhatsApp forwards on her phone!