Summer of 04, The Nightcap which was a promise of a new beginning... - Chapter Seven

We discovered a lot about each other that night. You can't spend all day and practically all night together and not know the other person fairly intimately and his certain well guarded secrets too. Some facts about the 'Greek God' Zaman:

1. He had the most amazing body I had ever laid eyes on.
(He had changed into shorts and a snug fit T-shirt before getting into bed)

2. He had a 'thing' for scented oils and he favoured lavender and sandalwood.
(He went for frequent body massages he confessed. We even decided to go for a massage together the following weekend)

3. He loved animations...common interest that brought us closer still...
(That's what we did until 4:20 am. We watched Mulan and then Mulan II. He wanted to do Brother Bear as well, but I was honestly exhausted and turned down the offer. And there was work in a few hours!)

4. He was gay.
(He admitted this at precisely 4:37 am...)

Zaman: "Stay."

Silence. I couldn't get the words out!

After a while...

Me: "what exactly do you have in mind?"

Silence.

What he said next came out too softly...

Zaman: "Spend the rest of the night here. There is plenty of room on this bed for the both of us and there are only a few hours left before we have to go to work anyway. I am not proposing anything more. I swear."

I just looked at him...and then I went on looking at him...wondering...

Me: "You are gay." I finally got it...and announced it too before I could think of a milder way of saying it.

Zaman: "Yes. I am harmless. Will you stay?"

Me: "Do the others know?"

Zaman: "No. I have spent very little time with these guys in Auz. Considering I joined the organization only a month ago I haven't made forever friends yet."

Me: "Hmmm...Do you want me to keep the secret?"

Zaman: "I don't know yet. I am still undecided."

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

I stayed a while longer...we talked.

Summer of 04, Coffee & then some... Chapter Six

Somerset Salcedo
Suite # 1807
9:40 pm

Zaman: "Do you want to come up for a cup of coffee?"

I play the fool...

Me: "Starbucks? I reckon it’s still open and it ain't too far."

He smiles and my heart skips a beat...

Zaman: "I have a special concoction from back home. You'll like it I am sure. And my condo is closer. We are on the 6th floor as we speak; another minute and we'll be on the 18th."

Me: "Hmmm...What the heck...I love coffee and you are tolerable."

I give him a wide grin. He winks playfully at me.

We reach the 18th floor and exit the elevator. He opens the door to his condo and I follow him in. The most striking things in the room are the French windows with a stunning view and the king size bed which seemed to be dominating the huge room. The bed looks welcoming and promises a sleep on the clouds. The thought of sleeping on that bed runs through my mind for the obvious reason, sleep deprivation! I suddenly feel so exhausted that I plunk myself on the cozy armchair by the French windows and start to look outside at the brightly lit city. He goes into the kitchen to prepare the coffee he had lured me with. I let my eyes wander and take in the room at large. I notice both the 29 inch TV and the DVD player (the same as the one in my apartment) placed on a chest of drawers. The walk in closet door on the wall opposite the TV is ajar and white light filters through it. I get enough peek to see the closet is painfully clean and orderly. Just then Zaman walks in bearing two steaming coffee mugs.

Me: "Your apartment is awfully clean. I don't know any men who like cleanliness. I thought all men were messy."

Zaman: "Don’t be so quick to compliment. We have several privileges staying in this hotel you forget. House cleaning is one of them." He announces cheerfully as he settles into the armchair and gives out a sigh.

Me: "Today is Sunday. There is no house cleaning on Sundays."

Zaman: "Guilty as charged my lord. But don’t tell anyone I am a cleanliness freak. They’ll think I am gay." He winks at me wickedly.

I ask in all seriousness, "Are you?"

He leans forward in his chair and looks me straight in the eyes. His piercing gaze makes it difficult for me to decipher his mood. He finally asks,"What do you think?"

After a pregnant pause I deliberately make light of the matter and declare flightily, "Honestly? I don't know and I don't care!"

Zaman smirks and pushes himself back in his arm chair and retorts, "I am so hurt. These dimples don't do a thing for me do they?" He grins widely to accentuate the dimples he was so unabashedly referring to.

My heart skips yet another beat...

Me: "I am nice... I can be nice...I want to be nice...don't ask me diffiult questions!" I feign distress.

Zaman continues to sip his coffee which is actually heavenly and has managed to awaken all my senses (no pun intended!). We sit in companionable silence for interminable moments drinking coffee and nibbling at some delicious cookies.

Me: On finishing my coffee and placing the mug with a definite thud on the table, "I am off to bed now...I'll see you when I see you." I leave the chair grudgingly and slip my shoes back on and start to head for the door.

Zaman follows me to the door. I turn to bid him good night.

Zaman: "Stay."

Me: Questioningly "What for?"

Zaman: He extends his hand, offering me to take it and follow him back in. "Let me introduce you to FaMulan my love. She reminds me of you." This with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

That rings a bell and I take his hand gleefully.

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

I finally park myself on the comfortable king size bed which had been beckoning me all this time. I stay with him until the wee hours of the morning...

That's another story...until then...

(To be continued...)

Summer of 04, The Pyjama Party - Chapter Five

Somerset Salcedo
Suite # 1002
8:45 pm

The door to Matt Feeny's apartment is ajar and I can hear an Irish band playing accompanied by a lot of noise and cheering. I am wearing a short nightie with its hemline rather high. I make a mental note of not stooping or else it would give a rather generous view of my behind barely covered in red Lycra.

'THAT'S A LOT OF PEOPLE!'

My thought on running into a broad muscled chest which is so obviously male: 'HE SMELLS DIVINE!'

My thought on that divine smelling creature saying, "Hello there." : WELL! HELLO TO YOU TOO. WHERE DID YOU COME FROM? GREEK MYTHOLOGY?...!'

PAUSE. I CAN'T JUST KEEP ON THINKING NOW. I AM SUPPOSED TO RESPOND. OVER AND OUT.

Me: (I smile shyly and tilt my head a bit)"Hey! I am staying across the hall. I have got some macaroni and cheese... wanna help me find a place to keep it?"

The sexiest man on planet: "Sure! Come on in."

My thought on seeing his tight bottomed behind: HMMMMMMM... YOU CAN HAVE THE MACARONI 'N CHEESE...I CAN TAKE A BITE OFF THAT!...!

I place the dish on the kitchen counter.

Me: "Thanks :)"

He opens the refrigerator door and starts to browse through the content.

Greek God: "No Problem. Now what would you like to have?"

CAN I START WITH YOU?


Me: "I'll have a San Mig Light please..." I let my voice trail off...

He takes the beer out of the fridge and opens it with the bottle opener which is lying on the kitchen counter.

Greek God: " I am Zaman. I arrived this morning from Oz. I am staying on the 18th floor."

THAT'S NOT A PROBLEM. THIS HOTEL HAS A LIFT! OK...STOP THINKING. SAY SOMETHING. CAT CAUGHT YOUR TONGUE?

Me: "I am Tanya. I am from India. I got here a month back. Like I said, I am in the suite opposite Matt and Julia's. Welcome 2 Manila! I am sure you'll enjoy your stay."

I DON'T MIND HELPING OUT IN THAT DEPARTMENT. I CAN MAKE IT IMMENSELY PLEASURABLE FOR YOU INDEED.

Zaman: " I am sure I will. Maybe you can show me around. Considering you have been here for some time now...". Discovered any Indian places to eat? I love curry!"

AW...AREN'T YOU SWEET? I HATE COOKING OTHERWISE BUT I'LL MAKE SOME CURRY FOR YOU IF YOU LIKE. THANK GOD MY MUM PACKED ALL THE INDIAN SPICES INCLUDING HOME MADE GARAM MASALA! SHE IS RIGHT...THE WAY TO A MAN'S HEART IS THROUGH HIS STOMACH!

Me: "You do hun? I have discovered not just Indian but some amazing Mediterranean joints. satisfaction guaranteed!" I throw in a wicked smile to punctuate.

Zaman: "Then take me out to dinner tomorrow?"

Me: "It's a date."

OOH LA LA

My eyes gleam in wicked delight....!

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

We finally exit the kitchen and join the loud and boisterous faction.

People devour the macaroni and cheese. We order some salads and pizzas from Yellow Cab. Someone goes out and gets a heavenly cheese cake which we shred to pieces and gorge. We are short of beer so I ask some muscled men to help me get lots of chilled beer from my suite. We drink some more and then it's time to go to bed...

Me to all: "Nightie night..." I walk back to my door in a very dignified manner. Or so I think. I struggle with the door lock for a bit. I then realize that I need to swipe the key through the lock for it to open. I belatedly realize I don't have a pocket in the night shirt. I walk back to Matt's door and I knock. I wait. No one responds. I knock harder. No response still.

THE DOORBELL!

I ring it. No one opens.

UGH! DRUNKARDS!

I slump against the door and think. At least I think I am thinking!

I take the elevator down to the lobby. I walk up to the reception with as much dignity as I possibly can in my night dress. I smile sheepishly and request them to open the door to my suite as I have forgotten the key inside.

The Receptionist: "Sure maam. It happens all the time". She says it in the peculiar Filipino accent with a straight face.

I finally get in and look for the key. I find it on the kitchen counter. I must have left it there when we came in to get the beer.

I don't forget to brush and floss, not even in that state. I am almost proud of myself when I lose my footing and slip.

DAMN THOSE FLOOR TOWELS! THEY ARE MORE OF A BOTHER THAN HELP!

I get up with difficulty and stagger to my bed. I snuggle in and heave a sigh of relief. I sleep well...

I dream of the Greek Empire and the Greek gods. Divine creatures float through my mind and I vaguely recollect a few names I learned in college: Zeus (Lord of the Sky), Poseidon (The Sea God), Hades (God of the underworld and of all the dark forces), Apollo (The Sun God, lord of Healing), Eros (The God of Love), Dionysus (The God of vine, wine and merriment)...

They all look oddly familiar... I wonder why....

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

Summer of 04, Tarot Reading Club - Chapter Four

Matt Feeny's Apartment
Suite # 1002
*Day after Diwali*
7:45 PM
Attendees: Julia, Matt and Me

Julia, I realize is staying with Matt in his apartment. They arrived in Manila together 2 days ago and were hence sharing the apartment. I am invited to sit at the dining table after exchanging a few pleasantries. The sitting room cum dining room is dimly lit and there is 'Sitar' playing in the background. Matt gets us all a beer each and a bowl full of chips. White candles are placed on the table along with a soft pack of Marlboro Lights, an ashtray and a zippo. There are 3 packs of tarot cards on the table; Osho Zen Tarot (mine), The Angels Cards (Matt's) and The Original Rider Waite Tarot Pack (Julia's). The whole setting is larger than life and I feel as if we have some divine powers that will help us unravel each other's secrets and predict the future however grim and bloodcurdling it might be.

Matt opens his pack and asks me what kind of reading I would like him to do for me. I think for a second and request him to do a 'Zodiac Reading' for me. The Zodiac Reading is done once a year, its done at the turn of the year to help clarify one's goals and resolutions, or alternately at Diwali (for Indians), Halloween (for Catholics) i.e whenever one starts his/her year.
Matt warns me about this reading being deceptively simple. He shuffles the cards until he feels ready, and then he deals them out, face down, in a circle, roughly like the numbers on a clock dial. He dealt out twelve cards, each representing a month of the year ahead, starting with the current month, October.
Starting with the first card he dealt, he turns over each card in turn.
He now starts to predict my future, which he insists is only an aid to help me determine what my future 'may' hold and what I can do to shape it myself. Of all tarot readings, this is probably the one to take most seriously, so I disregard his warnings and listen to his interpretation in rapt attention.



The 1st house represents, Aries. Matt tells me about my life and health in general in the coming year, which is not too great. He tells me I'll undergo a lot of mental stress and a close and trusted friend would try to manipulate me and brainwash me. I need to be on my guard and pull away. I sit back and let it sink in. I know who he is talking about and I try hard to convince myself that tarot reading is not a science. I shake myself out of my reverie and ask Matt to continue.
The 2nd house represents, Taurus. I learn about Financial matters now, which look bright and cheer me up a bit.
The 3rd house is of Gemini. He now talks about a few Short journeys which I will be undertaking, my kin, and learning. I realize I'll learn a few lessons alright in the coming year.
The 4th house of Cancer speaks of my mental state, which I understand will not be at peace.
The 5th house of Leo tells him that the items that represent my legacy will be mine. I'll acquire knowledge of some family secret.
The 6th house of Virgo shows my Work and professional life as relatively smooth and indicates growth.
The 6th house of Libra disheartens me as it speaks of affection, love, and relationships which are going to be rocky. Matt says I'll ruffle a few feathers and rub people the wrong way. He advises me to watch out.
The 8th house of Scorpio throws light on what I was waiting for all this while. The darker things: sex, death, birth, passion, and psychic ability. Julia now interprets this card as of extreme importance. Matt too says my psychic ability will be sharper and most intense this year. I'll emerge a stronger individual and deal with situations and people intuitively.
The 9th house of Sagittarius shows I'll take long journeys and have serious (professional) travel.
The 10th house of Capricorn: Personal and family honor, aged relatives, responsibility.
The 11th house of Aquarius is disappointing as was expected. It is about friends, which I don't have too many of anyway.
The 12th house of Pisces: My enemies, the paradoxes and self-imposed limitations of my life. As Matt says, "Heaps of those love, heaps of those...".

My reading is over and all three of us sit silently, each reflective on what the cards have unravelled. I take a big gulp of beer and sit up straighter. I offer to read Julia's future. She smiles and inquires if I know the 5 card spread. I assure her that I do. I deal my set of cards and lay them down, face down. The 1st card in the middle, 2nd to the left, 3rd to the right, 4th further down and to the left, 5th further down to the right.


Card 1: The present or general theme of the reading
Card 2: Past influences still having effect
Card 3: The future
Card 4: The reason behind the question (this shed light on card 2)
Card 5: The potential within the situation.

Julia clearly wanted to decide on the given course of action. Card 4 reveals Julia's subconscious impulse, perhaps a blockage which is stopping her from achieving a desired result. Card 5 shows the possible result from taking the given course of action. The cards keep pointing towards a relationship. I ask Julia a few times if there is trouble in a love relationship. She just smiles and requests me to proceed with the reading.
After the Reading is over, she finally confides in us. She tells us that she is separated from her husband and he wants her back. She says that she has dealt several spreads including the Celtic cross, which is best used if seeking an answer to a specific question, in her case the question obviously being if it was a good idea to go back to him or not.

Matt refuses a reading when Julia offers to deal a spread for him. He enthusiastically picks up the phone and orders a non-veg pizza from Yellow Cab. I stay on for another hour or so, we The Tarot Card Readers, discussing different kinds of spreads and their usefullness in different situations. I keep wondering why Matt declined the offer for a reading. All tarot card readers want a reading from another tarot card reader to gain a fresh perspective and also for an unbiased advise.

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

I stagger back to my apartment across the corridor after an eventful evening and 5 beers with an invitation to join Julia, Matt and their friends for a pajama party the following night.

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

(To Be Continued...)

Summer of 04, On Diwali - Chapter Three

My 1st Diwali ever away from home! Surprisingly, I don't feel as bad as I thought I would. Paiel has already made plans with the rest of the gang from India to go out for dinner to a swanky Indian Joint I've already been to with the Aussies. She has even taken out a pretty pink kurta and churidar to wear this evening. I haven't been on the best of terms with my fellow Indians off late. There has been an unspoken rift between them and me. I suspect its becoz I've been spending almost all my free time with the Aussies. Paiel still asks me to tag along with her and the gang for dinner. I give her the ghost of a smile and politely decline. I tell her I intend to snuggle up in the bed and read. I can see that the news hasn't really disappointed her. Whatever...like I care...!

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

THE DOORBELL RINGS

Jason is wearing a wicked smile on his face and his eyes are gleaming. I smile back at him. He leans against the doorway and says, "I couldn't help but notice the fairly large group of Indians all dressed up in traditional clothes leaving the hotel a few minutes ago as I was coming in carrying this carton of san mig lights. It struck me that you weren't part of the group. So I thought I'll drop by and check if you were OK. So are you OK?" I think if his eyebrows go any further up on his forehead, they would disappear... "Yes! I am. You weren't counting on me being in distress and you rescuing me, were you?" I ask.

Jason: "Ah!You read ma mind. Look, the beer is cold and I am open to sharing some with you. Do you have something to eat?"

Me: " Chips and cashew nuts. Will they do?"

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

THE PHONE RINGS

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end..., "Meet us in the lobby in 15. Casual."

beep beep beep. The line gets disconnected.

Jason: "Blank call or a crank call?"

Me: "None. Gimme a minute to change, we are going out."

Jason calls after me... "where?"

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

THE BLUE STAR

I find myself being introduced to a fresh group of Aussies at The Blue Star, a hip pub at Green Belt. I meet Matt Feeny, a very interesting character. He is gay. He thinks I am exotic. He wants to visit India and he has already read a lot about it. He does tarot card reading. I think this evening is not really a waste after all...

I bond with Matt at a whole new level. I do girlie talk with him and it doesn't freak me out. Ordinarily, I find girlie talk even with a girl to be such a turn off. However, I enjoy Matt's company immensely. I discover he is staying in the room right opposite mine. We are both thrilled. We decide to meet for dinner the next day and show our tarot card sets to each other and learn new ways of card spreads.

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

HOME SUITE HOME...

"I can't get the key in! There is something wrong with the lock!" I grumble.

Matt: "Maybe they have deactivated the key..." his voice trails off at that thought and he struggles to get his apartment door open.

Me: "I CAN'T GET IT IN!"

Matt: "Oh!"

Me: "Yaa... thats right."

As I lean against the door in my drunken state, the door opens and I stumble in.

Paiel: "I heard the noise. You were struggling to open the door hun?"

I smile sheepishly at her and thank her.

"Happy Diwali!" Very generously I throw in a wish as well...

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

(To Be Continued...)

Summer of 04, At Cena - Chapter Two

Dinner @ Cena

Sitting outside on the porch with my new mates I let the big portable fan nearest to our table sprinkle some water on my face. I wonder if its the fan throwing sprinkles of water on the guests is whats keeping the business going in the October summer heat. We place an order for cocktails and snacks. I ask for scallops dipped in melted cheese to be served with garlic bread. Light hearted banter at the dinner table keeps us relatively entertained till the drinks arrive. I spot Jason and Jon Tout walking past the porch we are sitting on.I wave at Jason as I catch his eye. He gives me a wide grin and both men walk over to our table.

Kat: "You blokes wanna join us for dinner?"

Jon Tout: "Nah. We are just planning to head back to the hotel and order a pizza."

Jason: "We could stay and have some sea food. What say Jon?"

Ben: "You wont regret it. Pleasant company and good food assured!"

Jon Tout: "Well I guess we could have a pizza any other day...,lets get pissed!"

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

8 creamy white shells turned inside out with salt and black pepper sprinkled on the edges. Pale discs of one scallop each swimming in dollops of hot melting cheese fill the shells to the brim. Intoxicating smell of warm garlic bread with cheese wafts into my nostrils and makes my stomach growl in anticipation. I dig into the first shell with a fork and bring the tender flesh wrapped in cheese close to my mouth. My tongue waters and I quickly bite into the scallop which I had been devouring with all my senses so far. The warm flesh nearly melts in my mouth. I close my eyes and savor my first scallop ever. I then lift one slice of garlic bread in one hand and the shell oozing with cheese (now minus the scallop)in the other and plaster the cheese from the shell onto the bread. I then take my first morsel of that heavenly bread and relish it. My eyes stay half closed throughout the meal oblivious to the laughter and teasing going on around me.

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

We get into the mini van (curtsy Somerset Salcedo) waiting for us outside greenbelt. I don't say much as I feel rather heady. I slide into the back seat and rest my head against the headrest. Jason sits next to me and inquires; "You ok love?"

Me: (drowsily) Hmmm. I am good. Thanks for asking.

Jason: (Chuckles)"Are you always this formal or are you just drunk?"

Me: (With a sheepish grin) "Guess I am always painfully polite. I was groomed to be a lady (with a wink).

Jason: "I can see you have a wicked streak. You just hide it well."

Me: "Hmmm... Maybe..." I let my voice trail off and deliberately turn my head the other way to look outside the window.

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

(To be continued...)

Summer of 04, In Manila - Chapter One

November 2004
Manila, Philippines
Somerset Salcedo, Room # 9, 11Th Floor

Ben, Denise, Paiel and I are sitting at the round dining table that seats four. Ben is making babushka's for all of us. We are all cheerful and extremely high. Denise is too drunk to realize the door bell rang.

Me: "Denise! Get the door."

The chair makes a screeching sound on the wooden floor. After half a minute he stumbles back into the room.

Kat and Cathy follow. I have seen them at work, but we have not been introduced.

Kat is tall and has an athletic built. Cathy is chubby and simply over weight.

Me: "Hi. How are you doing?"

Kat: "Marvelous! Thank you. How about you? I have seen you two @ work."

Me: "Yup. So have we. I am Tanya and this is Paiel."

Paiel: "Hi."

Kat: "Hey. I am Katherine Meredith and this is Cathy."

We exchange pleasantries with Cathy.

Ben: "What can I get you Love?" To Kat and Cathy.

Cathy: "Anything wet will do. I am exhausted! We have been shopping all day."

Kat: "I'll have a San Mig Light."

Ben goes into the kitchen and comes back with 4 chilled beers. Denise is plonked on the sofa and is head banging to some UK pop number.

I look at Kat keenly as Ben opens the beer pints for both of them.

Me: To Kat, "You look different somehow."

Kat and Cathy giggle. Kat pats her hair and says, "New hair do. Do you reckon it looks nice?"

Before I can say anything, Ben says enthusiastically, "Of course! You look lovely."
She has cut her hair real short and it's burgundy.

Me: "You look different. But nice. I think your hair style will grow on people in time."

Both Kat and Cathy laugh out loud. Ben joins in. Paiel and I look at them quizzically. Kat gets up and goes into the guest bedroom. I ask Cathy, "What was that for?"

Cathy: "You'll see."

Kat returns minus the short red hair. Her hair is back to being black. long and flowy again.

Me: "Aaaah! A wig! How nice."

Kat: "How English! You favorite word is 'nice' I reckon."

Cathy: "Must be the British Influence since the colonization."

Kat: "What Colonization Love?"

Ben: "India was colonized by the British almost 50 years ago."

Paiel: "Actually more."

Kat: "Where is India on the Map?"

All of us burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Ben: "Sweetheart, have you watched India play Cricket against Australia?"

Kat: "I don't watch Cricket. But I do know that India plays against Auz."

Me: "Wow!"

Cathy: "Lets discuss India over dinner, shall we? I am ready to eat a Kangaroo!"

Denise: "That ain't legal Love!"

Cathy: "Pity isn't it? Lets go to Green Belt for dinner. Will you two join us?"

Paiel: "I think I'll tuck in now."

Me: "I'll come along. Let me go down to my apartment and change. I'll see you guys in the lobby in fifteen."

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

Kat follows me back to my apartment. I grab a short denim skirt from the wardrobe and a top to go with it. I dash for the washroom to change.

I get back after changing and critically analyzing myself in the full length mirror to find Kat holding the 'Hajmola' bottle in her palm and reading its composition at the back.

Me: "I take one tab after every meal. Its supposed to be a digestive. Wanna try?"

She does and makes a face.

Kat: "Eeeeeoooo...Too spicy for my taste. Indians have a sharp tongue I reckon."

Me: "Quite! You'll get to know exactly how sharp over dinner." I say it with a smile and a wink.

She grins back at me.

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

We exit the bedroom. I find Gauri, Shilpi, Vara and Rohit keeping Paiel company in the sitting room.

Vara: "Where are you off to?"

Me: "Green Belt for dinner."

Gauri: "We are planning to watch Bridget Jone's Dairy 2."

Me: "Enjoy! Paiel I'll be back late. You tuck in. I am taking my key with me. Ciao!"

We leave.

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

To be continued...

How sarcastic do u think I am?

A moron once said, "sarcasm is the lowest form of humour".
Sarcasm usually requires a quick wit, and the ability to extract the minutest points of weakness in a conversation. So it is quite unlikely that it is the lowest form of humor as some would like to call it. Perhaps not being able to enjoy sarcasm is directly related to not having the ability to come up with sarcastic comments, which in turn creates a feeling of inadequacy, which in turn can spawn an inferiority complex, that can cause someone to believe that sarcasm is the humor of the stupid.

Shine on, u crazy die...mond

Now there is a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky
Shine on you crazy diamond...

Pink Floyd bombilating in my head
I stare at the ceiling lying down on my bed

Arms reaching out in all three directions
they screech and swing around
they sweep and beat about

The white and empty space beyond
like the sky falling
beckoning and then hauling

Sockets filled with coffee black and egg white
liquid swarms and pools
do they drip or do they drool?...

Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

Holy Matrimony: The Final Chapter

The air is nippy. Simran pulls her shawl more snugly around her. A shiver runs down her spine. They are sitting by the pool at 2:30 in the night with only a couple of lanterns illuminating the pool side. The water is still as a glass sheet. The stars are shining bright in the coal black sky, away from city pollution. They sit on wrought iron chairs placed across from each other with her feet on his lap. He gently massages the soles of her feet. Simran clearly avoids looking at Parth. She keeps her eyes fixed at the sheet of melted glass gleaming in the lambent light.

"It's been a while."he observes.

"Yes... Seems like forever."she agrees solemnly.

"I miss you...I miss us...I wish for us to come back together...be the way we were..."his voice trembling with emotion and the desperation all too visible.

She sits motionless for a while. Not saying anything. As if she hasn't heard a word of what he just said.

"Can you still read my mind?...do you still feel me?" she sounds as if she is in a daze.

"I want to..." he shuts his eyes. His hands rest on her feet. The cool December breeze carries her tangy perfume and his nostrils expand to inhale it...he can smell her...he can feel her presence again.

She feels as if hours have passed when he finally opens his eyes slowly.

"Yes we can. First thing tomorrow morning. Do you want to have breakfast before we leave?" he inquires gently.

"hmmm." she affirms.

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

The Return: Parth speaks

"I'll get the stuff. You go ahead and meet the kids."
I look at her as I say it. She nods, already gathering up her long flowing skirt in her hands and walks off.

I can hear the children screaming with delight. I can't help but smile imagining their eyes going wide and small pink lips stretching in a wide grin at meeting Simran after just a day. I unload the car and carry our bags inside. Just as I keep them at the foot of the sofa in the sitting room, Bruno comes wagging his tail in excitement and starts to wobble around me. I marvel at this 25 day old pup who has taken to the family so quickly. The kids follow. I gather them in my arms and hold them tight till they protest at being squashed.

I see my mum and dad come out to of the guest bedroom, smiling at me. Simran, Mimi and Nan come down the stairs, they must have been in our bedroom upstairs. Simran looks relaxed and Mimi is laughing at something Nan has just said. I smile too, a genuinely happy smile after a long time...

We all sit in the drawing room, we elders on the sofa and arm chairs, Nan and the kids on the floor mats. Simran and I talk about the 'Glasshouse by the Ganges' and the river, the mountains surrounding the resort and the food. I catch Mimi and Nan looking at me curiously every now and then. I know they are somewhat relieved because they tease me a bit.

I look at them all. I release a deep sigh of satisfaction. I think...I am finally home....

Holy Matrimony: Chapter Two

Parth decided to wait for her in the lounge. The flight was 25 minutes late. He ordered a cappuccino and lit himself a cigarette while he waited. He took a long drag and heaved a sigh while exhaling. He was contemplating the effect her visit would have on his life. He brought the coffee mug close to his parched lips and took a swig. Twenty minutes later he was feeling refreshed and found his way to the waiting area. He saw her tugging her large pink baggage behind her on rollers. She was wearing a bright pink knee length A- Line skirt with a white sleeveless top. She had not seen him yet it seemed. Her eyes were frantically skimming the crowd waiting beyond the barricade. Her face seemed to have fallen and she looked unsure and hesitant. She carried on walking with the bag in tow still unaware of his presence. He smiled to himself and started following her out of the airport and onto the path that led to the parking area. The swing of her butt was rather cute. He was amazed at how tall she had grown in the last 3 years. She was all of nineteen now. She stopped at the end of the gravelled path. Her fairly long hair now cascading in the cool breeze. He decided to make his presence known finally. He went and stood beside her and softly murmured into her ear; "Hi Nan. Looking for me?" She jumped and pulled away to take a long look at him. When she recovered from the initial shock she screamed with joy and threw her long arms around him, pulling him close. Her bag made a loud thud on the ground where it fell. He gulped and caught himself in time before a tear rolled down his cheek. He realised he had missed her immensely.

"Uncle Parth! You are such a Meany! I looked everywhere for you. I got a scare thinking I'll have to take a cab home. Where is aunt Sim? And my little cousins?" He smiled fondly at her and told her they were all waiting for her at home. She giggled and pointed at her bag signalling him to carry it for her. He complied gladly.

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

What joy to have your niece visit after years. Nancy was a splitting image of her American mother. Her lilting voice and pretty smile kept everyone at home in high spirits. Gaurav would call up everyday and speak to Parth to get an update on Nancy.
Gaurav had moved to US two decades ago and married Sara. They had an addition into the family a year later. Nancy was always a chirpy and an extremely sensitive kid. Parth's work had taken him to San Jose at least twice every year. Nancy and Parth had formed the kinship right away. Gaurav was very pleased by it for he wanted Nancy to get to know his side of the family and find her roots. Simran and the kids had also visited Gaurav and Sara in the US once during the Christmas break. Nancy had developed a fondness for the whole family from then on.

Parth was watching the world cup on the TV in his room one night when Nancy crept in and sat next to him. They followed the game for a while in companionable silence. Finally she heaved a loud and dramatic sigh and turned to look at him. He put the TV on mute and asked her tiredly; "What?"
She asked in return; "yeah. What?"
He knew what was coming. She was very observant and perceptive. It was uncanny how she could read people's moods and mind too. It unnerved him a bit.
She spoke softly; "what's wrong Uncle P?" She had cut Parth to 'P', she thought that suited him better with his perpetually 'evil, mean and grumpy' look.

He looked her squarely in the eye and feigned confusion; "What are you talking about love?"

"Jesus Christ! Do you take me for a fool? I know there is something bothering you. I can see it clearly that Aunt Sim and you are not...hmmm... like...you know...mum and dad. I think you can do something to revive your relationship there. Why don't you guys go out on a date or something. I could baby sit Sakshi and Mani!" Her voice reflected excitement.

Mac laughed out loud. He couldn't help but admire this 19 yr old bundle of energy for her efforts at fixing all and sundry around her. He put his hand on her head and gave it a good shake.

"Go! Run along now. Dinner must be served by now

(To be continued...)

Holy Matrimony: Chapter One

Simran sat staring at the black and white picture hanging on the wall across from her. Parth had his arms around her and they were both looking straight at the camera lens. Their hair was wind blown and she could distinctly see the dash of white in his. He had always had grey hair. For as long as she had known him. They looked happy... so content in just being together. Their eyes sparkling with joy.

They now had two extremely bright and talented children. He was a proud father and an attentive one too. Sakshi, the 12 yr old was a whiz at math. She also played the synthesizer like a dream. She had already given more than a dozen solo performances at school. She had taken after Parth. He was creative too. Mani was 8 now. He had Simi's eyes. He was good at language and sports. Parth took so much pride in everything Sakshi and Mani did that it seemed as if they were the fruit of his efforts alone. She didn't mind it one bit. It gave her a chance to take a back seat and just look at him and the kids fondly.

He hated travelling and leaving the kids behind even for a day. But his Advertising and Marketing firm expected him to travel all over the globe to generate more business. He enjoyed his work, it was challenging. However, he did struggle to keep a balance between his work and family. Simran had gladly given up her career to be a full time mom. She was happy rearing their kids and looking after Parth. Time would fly just making sure the house chores were done, food served, kids forcefully fed (they were bad eaters!) and packing or unpacking Parth's suitcase. He was practically living out of them anyway...
"I miss you and the kids. I can't bear to travel anymore. I think I'll quit. Get something here in Delhi. What do you think?"...Parth said one day.
Simran replied casually; "Hmmm...I think it's a good idea. I could work too then. We'll get a full time maid. It would be nice to have you around for a change" . He had a hurt look in his eyes. Just grumbled and went back to his laptop. He always seemed to be working.
Even at Home...

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

"Congratulations!" Mimi's deep and booming voice was oddly comforting.
"Thanks. I am so excited about the whole thing. Although I am worried how Parth would take it..." Simran's voice trailed off.
M: "Don't worry. I am sure he'll be as happy for you as we are. Mum especially. She is thrilled you have decided to go back to work. Now she'll have an excuse to spend more time spoiling Sakshi and Mani. So, when are you planning to break the big news to Parth? You could always leave the kids with us and go out for a quiet dinner."
S: "Hmmm... I could. Let me check with him and see how he is placed tonight. Even though he has stopped travelling, we still don't see much of him. He leaves early in the morning and doesn't get back before midnight".
M: "How is your marriage?"
S: "Aren't you direct!...well...its OK. We live under the same roof, share the same bed, bathroom and soap. Have sex on Sunday's...if that's what you mean?"
M: "Get out of the city, just you and him. You need to spice up your life. "

Simran reflected on her conversation with Mimi long after she had put the phone down.

(To be continued...)

Memoir

Three hours of sifting through postcards, envelopes and pictures, I now feel i know him a little bit more. I discover something new about him everyday. Some things are pleasant, some not so pleasant. But then I accept, adapt, and mould myself to fit into his world better. Our marriage had materialized out of thin air. One wet and mucky evening in September 2005 I met this man and a month later we were betrothed. We were in love and things fell into place beautifully. Families were not just supportive but extremely happy with our match. It was as if divinities were smiling down at us and had instructed the bright sun to see us through till the wedding and after. We were meant to be together and the world around us complied with our wishes. No melodrama, no emotional blackmail, no fights, no resistance. I look back and marvel.
Although, a lone stray thought sometimes crosses my mind and makes me wonder why we didn't wait for a couple of years at least and then decide to settle down. Soon after, another thought finds its way into my latent mind and I realize how I still would not have known him completely. A little better maybe, but not fully. The state of being where you know your better half completely does not exist. Humans are ever changing. We are not constant beings. We get influenced and then change either for the better or for worse with a shift in time, surroundings and situations. The best we can do is to keep our eyes, ears, hearts and minds open to all the changes and learn to not just live with them, but to rejoice in them. Imagine how tiresome our lives would be if the people around us never evolved. We would have set expectations and other people would always meet them. The element of surprise would be subverted. Appalling thought indeed!

The ink was smudged in places; words were unclear where the paper creased, a few pages were dog-eared for some unknown reason. All the postcards and letters were crisp dry like fallen leaves in autumn. The old pictures were hazy and the colors not as sharp as they must have been all those years ago. I spent a long time sitting cross-legged on our king size bed, surrounded with all the letters sent to him over the years by his friends and cousins, pictures of his school trips and little notes which were probably exchanged in school while a lecture was in progress. I stumbled upon this treasure while clearing out his study table, which is perhaps two decades old. After a good 6 months I had the fortune of coming home fairly early from work. Everybody at home was rather busy with their chores, so I decided to go up to my room and rest for a bit. I was looking forward to take a nap for a couple of hours before dinner. Once in my room, scrubbed and changed into comfortable sweatpants and a worn out t-shirt I called him up to tell him I was home. After a brief exchange of words and a few distracted responses from him I inquired if his rashes were any better. He has extremely sensitive skin and he gets pudgy red marks all over his face due to extensive exposure to sun. He grumbled and then requested me to dig out his skin specialist’s prescription from the study table drawer. I obliged. While rummaging through heaps of paper I came across a bundle tightly wrapped in an old yellowish newspaper with a string tied around it. My curiosity got the better of me and I plonked myself down on the bed and quickly tore open the newspaper keeping the wondrous secrets from my inquisitive eyes.

Childish handwriting, weepy words, emotionally tremulous moments exposed in those short statements, movie stories, Pink Floyd and Dire Strait lyrics, mention of pretty and 'well developed' classmates, desires expressed so explicitly for leggy beauties in skimpy shorts, stolen kisses in movie theaters,complaints about unanswered phone calls, first bike and second hand cars, driving license and accidents which left scars, first dates and thunderous fights, jealous girlfriends and wasted nights, getting drunk and hangovers, first smoke and nursing bad throats, flirting and then saving face, classes bunked and final examination marks, college fever and ragging episodes, pilot's training and dissections performed on 80 year old carcasses, losing parents and weddings in the family, inquiries about neighbours' daughters and dogs...

I laughed till my stomach was in knots, I shed a few tears and then felt stupid about getting so involved. I felt a pang of jealousy when I realized how I have no stock of birthday cards, letters from friends in other cities and overseas, picture postcards sent by cousins who were travelling. How could I be so friendless and desolate. No memories to visit, no assortment of tangible evidence of my being a social being. The joy of peeping into his past and discovering moments of happiness and sorrow that he had shared with those who he was close to was mixed with agony. The remorse for people lost, memories forgotten, moments let go of so easily without a second thought assailed me...

I will cherish my today for tomorrow. I want to look back and know I was loved, discern I was surrounded with people who cared, recall moments and conversations shared. I'll save the little love notes he leaves for me around the house, I'll safe keep all the little momentos I receive...I want to live for tomorrow. I want to grab all thats offered to me today and preserve it for my future...for our future...

As An Afterthought...

Lord Verbal sat with me at my work station to read the latest post on my blog. For those who don't know Lord Verbal, he sometimes leaves comments on my blog. He is hmmm...well....very direct. If you go back and check a couple of comments left by him on some of my earlier posts, you'll know what I mean. I disappoint him. He says he expects better from me. He knows me quite well is why he so liberally tells me to let my true self reflect in my writings. I, at least around him, vocalize my thoughts. Even the ones which are not so pleasant. I coolly sit down with him over a cup of coffee, play all high and mighty and shred some dimwits to pieces. He loves my 'caustic' tongue. Sometimes I am mean and biting just to please him. I like his reactions to my outrageous observations. I pretend...not just around him, but around others too sometimes. Lengthy discussions about nothing in particular, senseless jokes which aren't even funny, maligning unknown people walking past...unaware of the insulting remarks being cast...

How trite and trivial can i be...how corny can the others be...and I gladly interact with them too... All of us are superficial...

We are surrounded with people who want appreciation, they are nice to you till you look at them with adoring eyes and give them pretty smiles. Likes of Lord verbal are few...he welcomes criticism, of any kind. Try dispensing a bit of professional advise to those who sabotage the system and see how they injure your reputation. Forgotten are the moments of amiability and camaraderie. In the face of little constructive feedback they take an instant aversion to you. The worst is when you have a 'People Management' role. The money could be good, the position could be enviable, the visiting cards that get printed in your name could be impressive...but it stands to reason why would your organization give you this feel good factor? If you are one of those utterly responsible and dedicated employees is when they also laden you with the 'albatross'. Wait till they put you in a difficult situation, such as, providing feedback to your subordinates... in a non offensive manner of course! What manner is that I wonder. You can be bum chums with your team but the day you take them aside and 'politely and blamelessly' discuss the 'concerns', they blow their top. They snivel and sob, whimper and wail, lament and howl...and of course shred you to pieces behind your back. They ruin your reputation..which in no time starts to precede you. You realize how there is deathly silence when you enter a room full of people. You notice how others have started retreating from you cause they are just vary of you because of your profile. you are no more the lad or the babe around the block who they could tease and needle, crack up and die laughing with... Things change...people change...interactions with these people take a sudden turn...

You are not the same anymore...you want to run for that Mr. or Ms. Popularity contest after all, you want to win them over again, you want them to welcome you warmly into their group again, you want to share a meal with them in the cafeteria again, you want to take smoke breaks with them again....you fear being abandoned in your ivory tower suddenly... the thought leaves you nauseated...you want to run and hide...you don't want to face them anymore...you voice you discomfort to those who are not judging you...you vent...

You sleep over the discomforting thought...you wake up...you sit up in bed thinking...you mull over it while brushing...you stress a bit more over it while relieving yourself...you reach the conclusion that it doesn't matter... they don't matter... you carry on...you are carefree again...you think to yourself, "f*** it"... there are those who know you and then there are those who don't...

Confessions of a dangerous mind

Who is without sin? Who doesn’t suffer from guilt? Who hasn’t experienced pain induced by self or others? Who hasn’t sat crouched on the bathroom tile or marble floor of the bedroom, rocking his/ her body back and forth and cried for hours? Who hasn’t looked at the mirror and turned away for it was hard to meet the cold, callous or incriminating eyes staring back? Who hasn’t refused to meet their parent’s eyes in the formative years? Who hasn’t called someone in the middle of the night and hung up for the fear of getting discovered? Who hasn’t abused the one who had tendered the agony? Who hasn’t been insecure enough to wonder what went wrong in a relationship and if it was because of something they did? Who hasn’t retracted from people who are intimidating? Who hasn’t violated someone else’s privacy at some point in time? Who hasn’t fancied something that belonged to someone else? Who hasn’t cheated on one’s partner at least once, even if it were only in one’s thoughts? Who hasn’t criticized someone behind his/her back? Who hasn’t lost his temper enough to give someone a scare? Who hasn’t been impatient with someone and then hurt him/her too?

People have always been amoral, shiftless, and self-gratifying beings. Most of them are self-proclaimed virtuous and chaste beings. They live in constant denial. They are the ones who discriminate, expose and finally denounce the ‘sinners’. These self-righteous beings are the real sinners. They commit all the 7 deadly sins...

An excessive belief in one’s own abilities...Vanity. Don’t the self righteous beings have an inflated sense of self-worth?

The desire to gratify one's carnal needs... but restraining or sometimes giving in to the desires... but in shadows. The fear of the truth being discovered. Envying others their freedom. Begrudging those who express their desires freely. The craving to be as bold as the self acclaimed sinners...The restrained lot is furious with the indulgent. They blaze in their own frustration. Their wrath emerges and looms like a dark cloud over the bold and the unrestrained.

The lazy and shiftless... neither aspire nor work hard to achieve their goals, nor do they want others to do anything progressive. These ‘envious’ beings are like crabs in a pit. They tug at anyone who even remotely seems to have the drive and the chance to mount...They preach sacrifice. It stands to reason that if one sacrifices it would be someone else’s gain. And who else is there to gather those sacrificial offerings but them? They are propagating the masters and slaves society. And they no doubt intend to be the masters. They try to make one feel guilty for enjoying the fruit of his/her success. They covet the same...

They desire to consume all that they can’t have. They want even what’s on other’s proverbial plate. If that’s not gluttony then what is?

Their inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body stem from their abstaining from the same...Is indulging really more sinful or the constant craving and near obsession of it? Doesn’t that encompass all the other six sins too? The mental overdose of everything that’s denied to self and the false pride that wouldn’t let them admit to their fault is sinful. And what or rather who is this renunciation for? What are they trying to prove?

Sacrifice is synonymous to escapism. All the so called Prophets we hear of, the one's who abdicate the physical comforts and go in search of 'self' and 'the meaning of life' are the true escapists and how will they ever find the meaning of life when they actually run from it? They don't live it...they would never know it

I breathe, I ache, I feel, I love, I hate, I laugh, I cry, I play, I Live...

And while I do it, I also deal with my own set of insecurities, my fear of losing things and people which were never mine...

"I do"

Weddings!
I find them so intriguing. I also consider myself quite capable of commenting on them. I am rather experienced in that department. It's not because I have been married more than once (God forbid!). No Sir. I have just attended over a hundred weddings till date. Half of them I chose to attend, the other half I was forced to. Lets not get into who forced me and why. Lets just stick to my observations and derivations of such ludicrous events.

In a typical Indian wedding you will broadly notice the following things: the venue swarming with over bearing elderly women dressed in heavy silks and laden with jewellery, men folk busy discussing politics or the job opportunities in the market, pretty young things dressed in bright colored Georgette's and chiffon's, the young men shifting on their feet looking uncomfortable in the suits they have been forced to wear, the screaming children running free and unattended, tables and china overflowing with oily food.

When you start observing more closely you will realize that the over excited and hyper womenfolk are freely dispensing their unwanted advice. These women are usually the elderly relatives of the bride/ groom's parents who are of the belief that without their expert opinion the wedding would not fall through and the couple would not be able to get together in holy matrimony. And even if they manage to get married barring a few old customs, they would have severe problems in their relationship post marriage. I don't know how far its true, but I sure have seen the new age, open minded bride/ groom trying really hard to get out of some over hyped customs, however with little success. These over bearing maternal and paternal aunts have furrowed brows and clenched teeth. They are most often than not trying to gain one up over the other aunts present at the scene. Do you notice the frequent use of the word 'over'? That's intentional. It's to indicate the excessive body weight as well as the weight of their arguments and aggressive behaviour. They would beat any man hands down in 'forcefulness' at times like these, where their seniority and their say in the matters is at stake. The Men, unlike the women, take a back seat and seem totally disinterested in the wedding preparations and proceedings. All that you would see them do is; pretending to be deep in intelligent conversation, drinking like fish and eating like hogs. They carry an air of boredom as they ferry their pot bellies across the lawns. They look like they wish they were somewhere else, in all probability work or watching the latest football or cricket match on TV (depending on the season of course!). They congratulate the parents of the bride/ groom in a grave tone, which sounds more consoling than congratulatory. I suspect that at a deeper level they empathize with the father-in-law-to-be for bearing the heavy expenses of the wedding. But still, it does not deter them from consuming the expensive and coveted alcohol!

The pretty young things on the other hand (especially the ones who are scarcely clad and showing off their nubile bodies in see through dresses) seem elated about just being there. They would laugh at the slightest provocation and that too with a trill~ a laughter that excites mind you. Its practiced dear! You don't have to be a psychologist to know why they do it in that peculiar fashion. When they throw their head back, the hair tease their pretty cheeks and get in their big eyes ( made up with thick mascara and eyeshadow). They gently tuck the straying misbehaving strand of hair behind their small ears with tinker bell earrings. You will catch them eyeing the young men, the eligible bachelors and also the fit looking married men, even though they are strictly off limits. But then do they care? It's a number game my love. They score every time a man passes them by and flits an appreciative glance over them from head to toe. Imagine the Axe Click Deo Spray ad reversed. Although, the women don't smirk like Ben Afleck in that ad, they burst into spurts of giggles. They get together in a group, cracking girlie jokes amongst themselves and catching the men's attention with little effort. Like a close friend remarked a few days ago in exasperation; " Women play games...cat and mouse games" and I inquired, "when have you seen them play these games?", spat came the reply, "sweets, the question should have been what games? and not when do they play such games. It stands to reason that you have been one of them once, even if you don't fall into that category anymore." We exchanged a knowing smile. I couldn't disagree. Do you get the drift? ;) The poor young men in pretty pants don't stand a chance around these nymphomaniacs. Even though they would act nonchalant and totally disinterested, still their coy glances give them away. They are driven to heights of excitement and they end up fantasising and hyper ventilating. God save their souls. Some fall into the web so thick that looks lead to conversations lead to relationships which eventually blossom and lead these men and women into the vicious circle of tying the knot. And so the story goes dida di....

We, the people, the attendees of these do's stand and marvel at the smooth way the cycle of life long commitments draw some people so close for eternity and pull some apart forever.

Memories

Manav woke up in cold sweat. A few minutes passed before he could focus and come back to reality. He was home and in his bed. The same bed he had shared with Reia for what seemed like a lifetime. The memories came flooding back. Her pleading eyes and trembling lips. The moaning sounds that had escaped her parched throat. Her soft skin smelling of the Spanish lavender oil she religiously applied all over her body. Her long limbs curled like a baby's while she slept. He shut his eyes to evade her sweet memory. He twisted and turned, crumpling the white cotton sheet further.

His eyes fell on the bed side table. It seemed bare. She had carelessly flung her favourite wrist watch onto the table one night, cracking the glass. They had gone to 'Landmark' to shop first thing in the morning. He had bought her a classy black Omega with leather straps. The same night, she had carefully taken off and placed the new watch on the table before snuggling into bed with him. He had even caught her admiring it in the middle of the night. She wasn't aware that he had woken up and was looking at her caressing the watch with a smile of contentment playing on her lips. She was so innocent and childlike. There was something about her eyes, especially when she looked at something or someone very intently. Whenever her eyes rested on him, they had made his pulse race and his stomach churn. That brought back another memory from the past...

They were sitting in a secluded corner of an open air restaurant which was on the thirteenth floor and they were looking down at the brightly lit city. Her eyes were dreamy and a little unfocused. She had taken 4 tequila shots already. He couldn't take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful. She felt his eyes boring into her and looked up. They stared at each other for a while. He wasn't sure if it were seconds or minutes that passed them by. She gave him a lazy smile and leaned towards him. He could smell her intoxicating perfume which was driving him wild. He was itching to take her into his arms and bury his face in her long neck and hold her smell forever. She whispered, "Take me home." He did. They were the only ones in the elevator going down to the basement car park. They stood frozen for the longest time staring hard into each other's eyes. He was incapable of intelligent thought and even less capable of making conversation to break the pregnant silence which he was sure could be sliced with a knife. They got off the elevator and into the car quickly. Neither spoke until they reached home. Night sped past so swiftly after that. He let her leave his side, that too regretfully, only when the sun came up.

He groaned and cursed under his breath. He forced himself to get out of bed and take a shower. He stood on the cold wet marble floor for a long time, letting the water wash over his feverishly hot body and then pool around his feet. He felt the drumming in his temples and his neck muscles stiffen as he soaped himself. He missed Reia. All the time. Every corner of the apartment, every little thing in the house, every sound reminded him of her. He associated everything with her. He was losing it. Losing the grip on reality. Reia's memories were with him always. He wanted to run away and hide. He didn't want to face the fact that she was gone. He wanted to go on fooling himself and believe she was at work and that she would come back. He wanted her to come into the kitchen now while he made an egg for himself and rub his tensed shoulders. He wished she would come and sit at the dining table with him again and have cereal and fruits. He wished for everything to go back to normal and for life to start from where he left living it. He wanted her back. It was unfair. God was unfair. There was no God. He didn't believe in God. It was all hogwash to make people feel mildly better about their miserable lives.

The phone rang.
"Manav..." , he spoke into the receiver.
"Take me home", the voice was faint but audible.
A familiar and sharp pain shot up his chest. He could feel his gut twist again. Just as it had done the last time he had heard her speak. He gulped.
"No, not this time", he said.
He replaced the receiver slowly. He was numb. He carefully put the plate in the kitchen sink, cleaned the dining table with a cloth to remove the crumbs of bread, picked up his car keys and shut the door behind him as he walked out of the house.

The loud music playing in the car prevented his mind from drifting into distant memories again. He breathed in the fresh morning air and let his body relax. He congratulated himself on maintaining his composure with Reia when she had called. He resolved to try harder and forget her. Forget the sweet memories and remember the pain she had put him through. Reia had gone through morning sickness while she was carrying. He went through morning sickness too now, just of a different kind. He woke up every morning thinking of her and the good times they had shared. He fretted every night before he slept out of sheer exhaustion. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about Reia aborting their baby in the fourth month. The thought of her committing such a gory act left him nauseated. She had begged him to forgive her. He had been furious with her. Mostly because it was dangerous to get an abortion done post the 3rd month into the pregnancy. To make matters worse, she had lost a lot of weight and had started vomiting a lot. Her eyes had sunk into the sockets and her face had become pale. Everyone had observed how sick she had started to look. He had taken her to a gynecologist who had prescribed loads of vitamin tablets for her. She took several tests and the result wasn't good. They discovered Reia would never conceive again. He had taken a couple of months to recover from the rude shock and for the realization and acceptance of the fact that he would never become a father. As if this wasn't enough to deal with soon after Reia recovered from her illness and regained her strength, she started going out and drinking heavily. He was bothered and he didn't hide his displeasure. There were heated arguments everyday, over the phone and at home. Finally, she sprung the on him her decision to move out. After much probing and prodding she admitted she had been seeing a co-worker and that she wanted to move in with him. "Let me go Maan", she had pleaded. He had. Just like that. His world had crumbled around him while he stood there looking at her folding her clothes neatly and placing them in the red suitcase she had carried her clothes in for their honeymoon. She had carefully placed the apartment key on the kitchen counter before walking out the door.

She had called now to ask him to take her back. Let her come back. Go over and bring her back. Home, where she belonged. No, she had belonged, once. She didn't anymore. The circle of life had pulled them apart. They had to stay that way. There was too much bitterness between them. Too much had been said already. No more.

"Nah. No More now." He drove on...

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(Manav's story to be continued...)

togetherness

"Ha, ha, ha..." she laughed uncontrollably.
"Shhhhhh... don't do that! People are glaring at us." he squeaked, thoroughly embarrassed.

This was routine. They loved watching animations together. She would chuckle, giggle, snigger and snort; while he would implore, nag, plead and urge her to curb her uproar.
They had met years ago at the dingy little pet shop down the street from where they lived. She had gone there to buy a pair of gold fish for a glass bowl that had served as a sweet bowl for years. Doctor had finally advised her to stop her intake of anything sweet. She had caved in and decided to do the right thing; i.e, to put fish in the fish bowl. The first thing she had laid her eyes on as soon as she had entered the shop, was a tortoise shell. It was about 15 centimeters long and 13 centimeters wide. She had frozen in shock when she had heard the hissing and popping sounds coming from within the shell. There had been a string tied around the dry hard mass lying in the middle of the cemented floor. He had his grip tight around the other end of the string, as if to keep the lazy, slow and immobile creature from scurrying away (which he obviously couldn't!). The animal hiding in it's shell, probably playing with the wondrous things it had smuggled in, and it's master had piqued her interest. Her fascination with him and his pet had led her to his red brick house with a white stucco fence. He had told her about his quiet and unfriendly pet on their walk back from the pet shop. Like a well-bred and cultured man he had invited her in for a cup of herbal tea. Hence, began the succession of conversations over several cups of tea, long walks in the compound (with the pet tortoise in the perambulator), watching animations at his house (on a 17 inch computer monitor) and in the theatre.

Their relationship had a childlike quality. Innocent, simple and without artifice. They were so engrossed in each other that daily routines were also set to accommodate the other as much as possible. He liked the comfort of his own house and she appreciated the peace and quiet surrounding it. The plants out in the lawn, the bedroom window overlooking the green field beyond, the dim lighting in the sitting room, the compact modular kitchen, the twin beds in one of the bedrooms, the tiny alter hooked up on the wall with miniature deities placed ever so neatly on a red silk cloth, the fragrance of the incense stick in the room after he finished praying were all so familiar and filled her with tranquility.

He urged her to consider moving in with him. She could stay in the guest room with the twin beds, the computer and the altar. She was reluctant to give up her abode, even though she was hardly living there. Most of her time was spent with him in his red brick house or in his compound where they went for long walks in the evening. But then she was tempted too, to live with him in that neat and tidy house with everything functional and in order. Her own house was in shambles with the peeling walls and running taps. Also, the incessant barking of the hideous dog across the street was making it difficult to get any sleep at night.

Who was she fooling? Why was she hell bent upon keeping their lives detached? He needed her and she had to admit, she needed him too. They had come extremely close over the past couple of years. He had shared every little detail of his past with her and she had done the same. She even knew the faces in the pictures he had taken over the years as real people. They loved talking to each other, sometimes they would ramble on mindlessly too. His ceaseless prodding and rationalization of the situation crumbled her objections. She sold off her house and moved in with him.

"I am glad you came", said he; with tears welling up in his eyes.
"I had to, you wouldn't survive a day without me!", she laughed; just to keep the tears from trickling down her bony and wrinkled cheeks.
"Take my hand...live while you can...", he serenaded tunelessly and offered her his scrawny thin hand.
She put her gnarled fingers through his and squeezed them hard. He gave her a charming toothless grin, his eyes gleaming with roguish delight. Although, when he spoke, he sounded sincere; "I promise to help you up when you hurt and curse your arthritis."
She couldn't stop the tears from spilling over now and made a promise of her own; "I swear to listen carefully and not interrupt when you want to talk about your late wife who served, pampered and suffered you for 49 long years! Even though I've heard those stories a million times already..."
He groaned and a tinge of red ran up his ears in sheer embarrassment.

They both sat in companionable silence on the rusted swing in the veranda, with a smile of contentment playing on their dreary enfeebled faces but ageless and bright twinkling eyes for a long time. Only the croaking of the crickets and the rasping sound of the 30 year old swing breaking the silence of the cold still night...

Venting...

I am surprised, not pleasantly though. Soon after my public admission and the attestation of the fact that 'I am a self reliant woman' , why do I still feel the need to lean on a trusted few? Why do I fervently text, mail or call them up at odd hours to vent my anger and exhasperation. Most of them let me release my rage and gladly pose as my punching bag. They are usually unruffled by my outbursts and hysteria. They ever so nicely lend me an ear till I heave a sigh of sheer helplessness. Then with a knowing smile playing on their lips ... they think , "I have witnessed this agitation before...and yet again you are making a mountain out of a mole hill!" . Its most natural for an outsider to find issues like; 'submission of extensive reports on short notice', 'a trainee not only being nonchalant but downright disruptive in the sessions', 'co-workers who think you are out to get them just because you have been assigned a responsibility which could disrupt their sluggishness and hence, become mildly sarcastic' trivial. However, they still listen, analyse and unabashedly give me their opinion...mostly with a word of advise thrown in. Finally, they make me reflect on how I chould have handled a particular situation and what it is that I can do to mend it.

I have to modestly admit that I, just like other human beings, have these moments of weakness wherein It feels nice to have someone to just be there to listen and acknowledge my feelings of disgust or dispair, as the case maybe. They could either be physically present to see and hear my woes or keep responding to my endless texting. If ever I am unable to vent my displeasure, I keep pondering and find it difficult to focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I would try to sleep with the event still playing on my mind...but I would fail, miserably. However, these occasions are few and far between. These few trusted souls that I have been talking about, usually come to my aid and help me see things more clearly. Even though I dont always agree with their point of view... it sure helps to vent :)

To know my text, mail or call will not go unattended... places my faith back in humanity. To know that the recipient will not mind the intrusion at ungodly hours... assures me I still have affinity with others. The knowledge alone, of this companionship and solidarity is what keeps an opinionated and an avid jabber like me at ease...

An Ode to My Folks...

I am a self reliant woman. Brought up in an almost liberal family by moderately conservative parents. I would say they were rather accepting of my rebellious ways, or so I would like to believe. Mostly; they just knuckled under the gigantic steps I took towards self distruction , or so they believed at the time. Thats how average Indian parents are I suppose, obsessively protective. And when all attempts at conservation fail, they safeguard their own pride and say, "You are free to do as you deem fit...we have given you the roots, now you have grown wings...be careful...there are a lot of people out there who would entice and misguide you...don't do anything we would'nt do...blah blah blah...". I am sure they did all that they warned me off. Or maybe they had seen way too many episodes of 'Sansani' and 'Crime Files', which emptied their heads and filled such nonsense. A few arguments I had with my folks in my formative years were; "It stands to reason why would my closest and most trusted friend, who is from a hindu family with religious roots, would one fine day have an inclination to indulge in any sort of malpractice?", "I am not dumb maa... I know who is genuine and who isn't", "Will you just stop asking me so many questions? I've told you I am going out for a movie with friends. Give me a break! Do you even want to know the registration number of the car I'll be travelling in?", "Why can't I ask my friends to come over and spend the day here while you are out on a day trip with your friends? I am telling you its perfectly safe. Stop getting so paranoid!"... Endless bickerings and constant shoving from me led to my parents backing off a bit and giving me some breathing space, just like I wanted.

I started getting fair amount of freedom, though conditional. Ma and Papa started making bargains; "We'll let you go for the movie if you let us drop you to the theater and pick you up after the movie. And also let us meet your friends and say hi. We just want to see who are the people you are hanging out with. It'll give us an excuse to have a date too." It sounded perfectly harmless so I let them have their way. Our arrangements were always fair and square. Life was very smooth until I started working. I needed more freedom than they were ready to give. Some more pushing and shoving was required. I would propose a plan and they would dispose it without even mulling over it. I incessantly cribbed and fought; sometimes to no avail and at other times getting what I wanted, but after being made to feel horribly guilty about it. Life was such a struggle at home. Then the situation deteriorated further. My mum started the sobbing and sniveling when she heard of my 2 month long travel plan. Work required me to go out of town which was totally unacceptable to my parents. I emotionally blackmailed my dad and had him on my side in no time. I realised after 22 yrs of my life that all I had to do was be helpless and weepy to have him comply with my whims and fancies! What a dud I was. Anyway, dad talked to mom, mom cried a bit more and accused him of being too liberal and not thinking clearly. After much hue and cry I was bid adieu. Complete freedom atlast! I could breathe... haha...fantastic! There was no stopping me after that. I travelled frequently. My organisation was growing leaps and bounds and needed trainers to be on the move all the time. Business and clients in Delhi were dwindling and there were more and better organizations demanding their services. World class trainers...multi skilled...such pool of talent was bound to get noticed. I was a tenured and experienced resource of my company. It could bank on me conducting trainings for some quite finicky clients too. I stretched my wings and went out far east. Corporate trainings as well were becoming my forte... Ma and papa were very proud of me. They were also more relaxed and less bothersome after that. I guess when you take flight and your parents are finally convinced that you are not about to crash and vanish in fumes, they lessen the pressure. Or maybe they just had my little brother, who had suddenly shot upto 6'1", to worry about.

Mr.me and I have been thinking about making babies someday... its not happening anytime soon though. I am sure I'll follow my parents in their footsteps. I can forsee myself being even more protective of our kids than my parents were of me. Especially after reading the gory details of the friendly neigbour who molested and mutilated the bodies of 30 innocent kids in cold blood. He even had the gall to bury them in his backyard.

I fear... to bring a life into this crazy and inhumane world. I fear...sending my kid to school and worrying myself sick until his/ her return. I fear...getting an mms with my kid doing the unthinkable. I fear...not being able to bring up my kid with moral values. I fear...losing my kid to the damn world which will fill his/ her head with nonsensical ideas...

I need to gather my nerve before I prove my mettle to my parents by bringing a baby in this big bad world...