Lifelines

It has been a long time since I came to this space. As time goes by we evolve and with that comes different responsibilities and opportunities. With all that happenings I seem to have very less time to blog

The past few months have brought in a new way of living. While outside excursions are limited, we depend more on the web. Everything from shopping for essentials to lifestyle products is now online. The same way now we have portals to meet friends online.

And that my dear friends has been a blessing. Because it may be true that you evolve and find your calling but it is also true that you need your childhood friends to keep you grounded. Those are the ones who know you best and what’s more they are the ones who give you unconditional support. They are the ones who I know who will never let me fall and they are the ones who let me fly.

And so it is that I met my lifelines during these troubled times.

During middle school the six of us were very close. Actually we were 3 girls, very different in outlooks who were just trying to make sense of the world. We were in 6th standard and then there were some new admissions and another girl joined our group. And then two boys who were forced into our group as the teacher asked me to help them out. And then began a beautiful journey of friendship and solidarity to be cherished for the years to come.

But then we went our different ways and its only now that we are back together.

And one of them has his birthday today. And though I would like to list out how wonderful a person he is…words fail me. Because how can you describe a person who is a pillar to friends, who with his mischief and wit brings life to a dull gathering. There have been days when he has walked home from school with me dragging his cycle because I would walk home, alone And there have been days when he has sensed when I was upset. Now that we all have regrouped its uncanny how he still understands perfectly how I feel even though we are so far apart.

He has also been my first student and what can give a teacher the most joy than to see her pupil shining in his field. And I am so proud that he is successful in his chosen vocation.

Friends are indeed a blessing and friends like mine are truly a special gift from the one above.

Happy Birthday dear friend, may the coming days be filled with peace and joy and the company of loved ones.

Alone?

‘I want to see what all happens, it is an once in a lifetime experience’ , said my mother on the phone. I sighed. My mother was hesitant to go alone. The temple in their community was going to have a Garuda dhwaja installed amidst a  lot of rituals. And my mother was hesitant to witness it, alone. I look at myself . The Arabian Sea seperates the husband and me. Everything from finances to education to day to day wars I am managing alone. In far off Mumbai my sister wages a war against cancer alone. Is there anyone really with us, I think.

‘Amma, if you want to attend, you go; don’t worry that you are alone. Just do it’, I say.

I know it is not easy for her. For 56 years she and my father have been together. Never had she taken any decision alone.  Will it ever be easy for her taking these decisions alone, I wonder.

My father had passed away last April after being bedridden for 15 months. I had gone to meet him in March end. He was frail. I had trouble identifying my father who had terrorised us with his persona and voice. Somewhete there was a grudge in me. Growing up I was his pet but as years advanced he was relying more on my brother. That irritated me. And then when I was there he had an upset stomach and started vomitting incessantly. One day I went and sat with him. He looked disturbed . I asked, ”what happened Papa?’ After some minutes he replied,’ I am afraid’. And then I underrstood that the man who had tirelessly answered my questions was today seeking answers from me.

” Don’t worry papa you will not be alone, the Lord is waiting for you,’ I said. He still looked dissatisfied. I said again, your mother must be waiitng for you papa, your sisters,  your brother….

You wont be alone,  I said.

He sighed

‘Keep chanting papa. Krishna says whoever remembers Him in the last moment goes back to Him’ , I said.

He turned his face the other way. Obviously angry that I wished him to leave his body. I continued, ‘ Papa everyone has to leave the body some day. When the body becones useless.’

He didn’t soeak to me after that. When we were about to leave, I touched his feet.  Amma told him that I was going to be with my husband. He blessed me.

Two weeks later, we got the message that he passed away. Just before leaving the body he had chanted Ramdhun.

For many months I felt guilty. But then I reconciled, someone had to do it.

But somehow I believe even at that moment I was not alone. He had guided me.

Chimera

Reblogging an old story

Searching Self

Amu and Sakhi were tidying up the house and having a nice time too. Sakhi is Amu’s sister in law; that is her brother’s wife. But an outsider will probable take them to be sisters. So nice is their camaraderie. Ever since Amu lost her family in a road accident she has lived with her brother and his family. Her  mother too stays with them. It is Amu who notices her mother nodding her hand and waving her finger, and she says, ‘Bhabhi, ask Maa to do some work?’ Sakhi understandingly calls our,’Ammaji, can you cut some palak for me’

‘No, I won’t, why should I? It is your home, you do it”

In a far of land Nimmi and Vimmo are having a nice time. Nimmi sings a song accompanied with the harmonium; Vimmi dances. The song ends, the dance ends and both of them start giggling.

‘Maa, why…

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The Bench #FFfAW

Vinod proudly took his friend Hemant around the green zone. Technocity had developed 12.5 acres of dry land into a green zone. There were trees, shrubs, a lake and recently a lot of birds had started visiting. It was a place where families used to visit now to relax.

You mean to say there are no thefts of timber ‘, asked Hemant.

‘Nah’, said Vinod.

‘How are you so sure?’, Asked Hemant.

‘We have coded each tree and I know each branch , each twig of my trees’, Vinod said proudly.

‘What are they doing?’,asked Hemant pointing to some workers.

‘We are putting up some benches made of recycled plastic for visitors’, explained Vinod .

 

Next day Morning , as usual Vinod was on his ’rounds’. When he noticed a fat branch missing. A team gathered and went on a search. It was impossible that the branch had been moved out. They found some bits of wood. but nothing more.

Meanwhile a lone wooden bench sat near the lake and somewhere  a man was happy with his creation.

(173 words)

This story is written for the 177th Flash fiction for Aspiring writers. The challenge is to write a story on the picture prompt for 100-150 words (+- 25 words). Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting the challenge. Thanks also to Wildverbs who provided this weeks picture.

 

Fame and its baggage’s #FFFAW

Benoy sat impatiently as Arosi tried the nth shoe.

‘Don’t you have anything good here.? These are all so….common’, said Arosi to the salesman. ‘Common….Huh,’ Benoy thought, ‘as if she was born in royalty. She was a common girl from Khargulli when I had picked her up, trained her and made into a star and look at her histrionics now’, he thought.

The star stuck salesman had meanwhile run away to get another pair of stilettos. For him Arosi was the ideal. From a lowly background she had stuck gold, she was the hope of millions like him.

‘Stupid boy, this is what I wanted,’ holding the red stilettos,’Why did you show me the cheap ones earlier’.

The salesman though, didn’t like the way she spoke and thought , ‘Even If I became rich and powerful I will never lose my humility’ while Benoy was thinking, ‘Fame and money destroys the best of people’.

(155 words)

This story is written for the 176th Flash fiction for Aspiring writers. The challenge is to write a story on the picture prompt for 100-150 words (+- 25 words). Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting the challenge. Thanks also to Yinglan who provided this weeks picture.

Pakhi has a new classmate

This is one of my earliest post. Reblogging it today

Searching Self

It was the first day of Standard 6 and Section B, Pakhi’s section was buzzing. Pakhi sat content and smiling happy to be with her classmates again when there was a sudden hush and the Principal arrived along with their class teacher, Mrs Fernandes and a boy- a lanky boy with a lopsided grin.

“Good morning,class”, she said.

“Good morning Madam”, they chorused.

“Well we have with us Aditya a new entrant to our school. He is a special child of God so be nice and kind to him. Wish you the very best for this school term” she said and was gone

Special child, aren’t we all special to God wondered Pakhi.

“Abhishek will you please move to the next bench and Aditya will sit with Pakhi”, said Mrs Fernandes. Ugh thought Pakhi, she hated changes. Abhishek and she gelled well and now he was being moved.

When school…

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Amma o amma

Searching Self

Amma was fiddling with the pallu of her sari. Appa came in and asked,’What happened, no coffee, no breakfast and you are sitting here fiddling with your sari?’

‘Visakha has not called since so many days…’

‘Come on, she is a married woman now, she has responsibilities. She can’t keep calling you every now and then. Now go and make some coffee, you know I don’t function well without your coffee’

‘And what will you do if I die tomorrow,’ she said in anger but still got up and went into the kitchen.

‘Then I will search another like you and get married again,’ Appa said and guffawed.

Amma banged a steel tumbler on the kitchen counter.

Visakha had been born after a complicated pregnancy and an even more complicated delivery. The umbilical cord had been entangled around her neck and had the C-section not been in time, she would…

View original post 551 more words

A dream to remember

Is this your brother’s home’, Bappamma (Paternal grandmother) asked.

‘Yes Bappamma’, I said.

‘Take me around’, she said

My brother had recently shifted to his apartment given by the steel plant. The previous year he had got employed in Vizag steel plant. In some months my parents too had shifted along with him. But he had got his own apartment that year. I was studying in Mysore and was having my summer vacation. My sister too had come and we were having a nice reunion.

Mom with my sister and her son would sleep in one room. Another room was for my brother. Me and Papa would enjoy watching TV in the hall and would sleep there only.

‘So is this the hall’,Bappamma asked.

‘Yes’, I said and then showed her the rooms, kitchen and the balcony.’The balcony is quite big’, she said, ‘good for drying papads and pickles. Your amma must be happy’.

I nodded.

‘Okay time for me to go’, she said

‘No Bappamma, you can’t go. Stay with us’, I pleaded.

‘No, my dear I can’t stay. My home is elsewhere now’, she said

‘NO……….NO’, I screamed

‘Reema, Reema, get up’…..it was my sister.

‘What happened’. I asked.

‘I saw Bappamma in my dream, you were showing her around the home and then she left’, my sister said.

Saying that I was shocked is an understatement. At the same time both of us had seen the same dream. Was it a coincidence, some extra sensory perception I have never understood. Maybe she came to see if we were fine or maybe we needed a closure.

Over a period of years I have been visited by a number of people who have left the world. My aunt, uncle both have visited me and conveyed some message. But the visit by my Bappamma was the most bizarre one. And it was indeed a dream to remember.

But once I started my spiritual journey these visits gradually stopped. I read somewhere that some lucky people are indeed guided by the Lord in this way . So maybe I am the lucky one. Because these dreams gradually made me yearn to know about the soul and its position in this world.

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Those small joys

Ajji came in disturbed, mumbling to herself.

‘What happened Ajji, why are you so disturbed?, I asked my grandmother who had just returned home after dropping my younger brother Vinay to school.

‘Shailu, I had read in the newspaper that depression is on the rise. It is true’, said Ajji.

‘Why do you feel so Ajji’, I said.

‘I saw a man talking to himself. A young man, Shailu in his 20s. I got so upset. Chee chee, such a young life wasted. And then I saw another woman shouting at no one in particular that the report has to be submitted today….’

I started laughing

‘Why are you laughing. You should feel pity for these young lives wasted’, Ajji said.

‘Ajji they were talking on their mobiles’, I said

‘No, no, she said, ‘I didn’t see any mobiles….’, she said

‘They must be talking on their handsfree…’

‘What is that’, she asked

‘We cannot hold our mobiles in our hands while driving Ajji so we have our handsfree or bluetooth or earphones’, I replied showing my earphones to her.

‘Ohh, so they were talking on these’, she said

I laughed. Poor ajji,she was finding everything so new. Ajji never used to go out. happy at home and with her chores at home. The maximum that she went out was to meet relatives. But then recently we came to know that she was Vitamin D deficient and so the task of dropping and picking Vinny to school was assigned to her. So that in that way at least she would go out and soak in some sun.  But every day now she was seeing and learning something new and it was fun to be witnessing with her.

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My friend Preeti came in one day and we were busy. No, not studies we were goofing around trying on new combination of clothes and clicking pictures when Ajji came in. ‘Huhh, Preeti, what happened to you….You fell down…your lips…why are they swollen’, she asked. We laughed till our stomach ached. ‘Why, why are you laughing like that’, she asked.

‘Ajji’, I said holding on to my aching tummy, ‘It is known as a pout, we are just posing for some pictures’.

‘Huh’, was all that my innocent ajji could say.

‘Come, come Ajji, pout like me’, said Preeti and posed. Ajji imitated like her and it was fun.

Ajji was just like a kid soaking in everything new.

‘Is it fun to ride’, she asked me one day when I was parking my Activa.

‘Oh yes’, I said, ‘I love it when I feel the wind. It makes me feel so free’.

‘Hmm’, she said, ‘will you teach me how to ride’.

‘Ajji, no, I can’t do that… I mean at this age…..if you fall down….’, said I

‘See, Shailu when I was young I learnt to ride the bicycle without my father’s knowledge but then one day he came to know and he stopped me. Those days it was not acceptable you know. Today it is. Won’t you teach me Shailu. Before dying I want to feel the wind too’, She pleaded

I just couldn’t say no.

And from then on, Ajji would sit pillion and we would go to the nearby ground where she would learn to drive.

When the first time she had driven from our complex gate to our home my father was shocked.

Obviously at her age ( 71 to be precise), we could not allow her to drive on the road but yes now and then she would drive in our complex.

One day on my return from college I noticed a group of children huddled in a corner near the complex gate. I ignored them thinking that they must be planning some mischief..

At home my mother was grumbling to herself. ‘what happened amma’,I asked.

‘The maid didn’t come in today that too without notice’, she said as she threw the doormat in a corner and continued, ‘And your ajji….instead of helping me, she has gone off to be with the kids.’

‘Ohh, is it she with them’, I said.

‘Who else’, she said as she banged the broom down.

We both looked at the group. Someone had said some joke and all were laughing heartily.

‘Let it be amma. She cannot do all these work anymore, isn’t it. Let her do what she can’, I said.

‘Yes’, said amma softening a bit, ‘The next door neighbour is having a migraine and was complaining about the din the children were making. So she took them aside,’ amma said.

‘It is good that she is keeping herself active….let her do whatever gives her joy’, I said. Amma nodded.

‘And now’, I said, ‘let ME help you’. And I took the broom from amma’s hand.

Raise your ‘Hood’

Once, during a rainy day, I was sitting on the window sill holding my coffee mug mulling over life in general.

Nothing was going right. Finances were down. I am an interior designer working with my husband. We have a small firm which does interiors, landscaping etc.Business was good. We got a lot of contracts, advances were paid upfront but though we finished work on time, the balance payments took months together. In some cases years.

My father in law needed regular dialysis. Son’s fees and other activities needed money. EMIs were due and I was depressed.

We are both straight forward people. We do not understand how shrewd people can be. Clients come and show as if they need their home/office interiors to be done. They show so much interest in our work, they pay advance so hurriedly but then once the job is done, they disappear. Don’t they understand that we have a home to run that we have families too. Our team too suffers because of delay in payments.

It’s at that moment that my mobile rings. It is Hitesh, my friend from college. We exchanged pleasantries….talked for some time and then..’Avanti, whats the matter? Why do you sound so low?’

Me in a choked voice,’Nothing.’

He; ‘Don’t lie, I can understand from your tone’

And then it all came out, the tension, the frustration, the pain

‘Hmmm’, Hitesh said, ‘I will tell you a story.’

I was astonished. Here I was on crossroads almost on the verge of bankruptcy and here was he telling me a story.

‘I will just tell the story. You draw conclusions and the inferences’, he said, ‘There was a cobra who lived in a pit. That pit was near a road. Whoever came near the pit, he bit them. Narad muni was once passing through the path. He saw the snake and felt sad. So he gave a sermon about karma and how each one has to pay back. He advised him not to bite people unnecessarily. So saying Narad muni left. The muni’s words affected the cobra a lot.

After some months Narad muni was going through the path again. So he stopped to meet the cobra. What he sees is a battered snake.What has happened is though the snake has become non violent, people do not know that. So when they see the cobra they beat him with sticks. Then Narad says “I asked you to be nonviolent but I didn’t ask you not to be defensive. When people come near you, you can raise your hood and scare them.”‘

That was the talk that I had with Hitesh two years back.

Today again its a rainy day. I sit with my mug of coffee but today I am happy. Our home is now our home. My father in law had a successful transplant. All is well at least financially.

How you wonder?

We just raised our hoods

We start work only when we receive an advance-substantial advance. Often we tell the client only to buy the ‘raw materials’. We don’t finish the work until the payment is paid even though the client is well-known, a relative or tells us sob stories. Some of the old balances are still pending but for now we are doing alright.

Some advises are just brilliant.

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This post is a part of Write over the weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

This weekend the prompt was, Once during a rainy day.

#fiction