She said, ‘Can’t I do anything my way, why always one should conform to procedures? A person may do anything her way, isn’t it?’

And then proceeded to say, ‘ Why have you folded the newspaper that way. It isn’t neat, see the inner sheets are coming out’

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The kid is lying down and watching TV when the father says, ‘Don’t watch TV like that it will hurt your eye alignment and proceeds to recline on the coach to watch it.

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‘I hate Mrs. so and so, she is so bitchy’ and proceeds to gossip about the newly weds.

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I hate R she always compares her kid to mine and then proceed to tell my kid, ‘Look at R’s kid she always gets 100%, why can’t you?

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I work a day for an organization which works for abused women. ‘Aarti (my maid) why are you late today, so what if your kid is sick, you must be on time to work.’

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Kids today, survive on burgers, chips and fizz, I say and then because I am lazy, order a pizza

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Aren’t we all guilty of these?

Note: These are fictional incidents.

Jingles; you may ask.  Yes, jingles. Like if he was going to brush his teeth, she would say; ‘Kya aapke toothpaste mein namak hain, Colgate Active main hain.’ (Does your toothpaste have salt, Colgate Active has)

Or when he was back from work, she would sing, ‘Tandoorusti ki raksha karta hain lifebuoy’.

Or when he wanted to buy a new television,’ style and simplicity that is Philips.’

But when the next door neighbor Nina  hopped in with some munchies and coffee, Poppy could  not bear it and sang out, ‘Do you have the close up confidence’

And Ronny lost his cool then and said, ‘Shut up Poppy or  I shall  send you to the aviary!!’

In my younger days I never knew that there was even a day for love. Guys would give gals a rose, a gift whenever they could afford it. And the girls would write lovey-dovey notes whenever they could (which was more often by the way).

Married to a CA who was always lost in the world of figures this day was lost to him not because he did not love me but because V-day always came before the Union Budget and the end of the financial year. Why could not this day be shifted to some  day later in the year, I often thought.

But this year the V-day woes had new shades. My niece Kriti was staying with us. She had come over on some industrial training for 15 days to our town. This was her first week here and instead of being charged about her trip, the V-day, etc, I found her gloomy. You can imagine how the home looked like to my 7-year-old daughter with a gloomy mom, a gloomy sis and a ‘lost’ father’. Err lost means lost in work, come on people don’t take me so literally. And yesterday Shriya had told me that if I did not improve the situation at home, she herself would take admission into a boarding school.

I had to do something but how? Talking to Kriti was like talking to a wall. I have heard that walls have ears but Kriti…. I doubt if she even hears me. I suspect that there is a guy involved in her misery and so I called her mother, my sister. And then my sis tells me that maybe she is upset because of her boyfriend.

‘Boyfriend’, I ask, ‘but she is still a child’, I say.

My sis chuckles and says, ‘Kriti is 21 now my dear and has been steady with a guy senior to her by a year in her engineering college.’

‘Really’, I say.

‘But to tell you frankly I do not approve of him.’

‘That is understandable, she is your daughter and I doubt if you will approve of anybody.’ I say. My sis is like that, fiercely protective of whom she loves. I remember when my parents were looking out guys for my marriage even before my approval she had scanned each one of the proposals . .

‘Not like that rey, she said,’ but you know Kriti, she is a sensitive person and this guy is very ummm,  how to put it,….very practical. Like there are no candlelight dinner, no romantic gifts, no long rides etc. His idea of life is a stable career, good marks in exams… you know that kind. And our Kriti is not like that. I know he is a sensible guy but Kriti has to be handled with affection.’

‘Sounds like a rehash of my story’, I murmured and disconnected the line.

Now Kriti is the first of the third generation in our family. I still remember standing outside the nursery of the neonatal ward trying to have a look at the red faced baby. The nurse had pitied me and called me inside. I had peeped in at her and she had opened her eyes. Aww, I will never forget that moment.

Now I could understand a bit of her gloom. But a dull ache in the head had put its fangs on me and by evening it had become a roar.

I called up Kriti, ‘ I was supposed to go to see a play. A friend has penned the story and today is the first day of the show. can you accompany your uncle and Shriya. I have a splitting headache darling and just want to sleep. And when you return can you get some pizzas. I know you might have some pending work to be done at home but please for today, I need the house to myself.’

Kriti agreed and from her tone I could understand that she was hurt but what could I do?

When they returned home and opened the door, the lights were off, a table for four had been laid with candles, soft music played in the background. And then I moved forward, bent down on a knee gave her a rose and asked, ‘ will you be my valentine?’. She nodded a yes with tears in her eyes. And then we all became kids, we blew trumpets, we danced, we sang, we made merry until the neighbor banged our door. And then we attacked the food. There wasn’t anything fancy, all my energy had been spent in the arrangements. And so we had cake and crackers, chips and pizza and of course some cold drinks.

And then she asked, ‘Why all this?’

‘You were gloomy and then me and your mom had a talk’, I gave her a knowing look and then continued,’ so talked to your uncle and we made this plan’. Yes my Accountant husband has this streaks in him where in he can do anything for the people that he loves, maybe that is why my sister approved of him.

I had a tough time making the girls sleep that day and while I was switching off the lights in their room, Kriti murmured, ‘Mausi, this has been the best day of my life’. ‘So far’, I said for at the age of 21, she had lots of magical evenings yet to see.

Disclaimer- This story is entirely fictional and has no resemblance to any person living or dead

to bid someone goodbye.

I was there waiting,

He smiled at me,

I smiled back.

There were butterflies in my stomach

A quickening of heartbeat

My palms went wet

He gestured me to come in

I followed!!

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No dearies, I am not talking of a surreptitious valentine date……………

Just recounting a date with a ………Doctor

SO what do I do, apart from the routine work, I read other blogs and….. ….

Apart from the usual search engines which land people to my blog(yes people do come in search of mukta bhide, yoga tips, aarthi thali, how to nag etc ), I love to read the spams too.

Spams!!, you may say but yes, there are so many weird spam comments that at least once in a day I go through them. Most often it brings a smile on the face.

Hey weblog administrator, your site is really cool, how did you design it? Me, design? Makes me laugh out loud. I just know how to change themes, me design? Ha ha ha

Me and my wife were really amazed with the information your site provided us with. Thanks for the healthy tips.  Healthy??

I come to your site almost daily for the wonderful tips you provide. My husband is always curious about what stuff I have cooked up for him when he returns form work . Stuff, cooked up?? And me tips??

I notice that you have some amazing stuff but your page rank is low. We can provide you with a safe tiered link building system. Hmm, maybe I should contact them *thoughtful*

Your posts though informative are too brief for newbies like me, can you extend them a little. Extend? And my mind conjures up images of elastic bands I used to love expanding.

Simply wish to say your article is as amazing. The clarity in your post is simply nice and i could assume you are an expert on this subject. Well with your permission allow me to grab your feed to keep up to date with forthcoming post. Thanks a million and please continue the rewarding work. Aww, I feel so….inflated. I would love to unspam it but…no.

I get to know about various offers going on for books, bags, shoes, ipads etc everywhere in the world.

Amazing isn’t it?

I had the problem of thinking too much if I felt hurt of someones behaviour or someones words. But very often it amounted to nothing. Very often the persons behaviour was because of something other than me which had bothered him/her. Very often we get hurt because of someones words but that person may or may not have meant what we have understood. Perception matters.

I value myself. Self respect is important but if my husband asks me to do something; like if he asks me to have a bath, pray and then start my day on a particular day or drape a sari on some day. I do it. So is my husband a tyrant . No. He asked me to do something in a gentle manner, I did it. Why? Because I love him and respect him. Mutual love and respect is important and the manner  in which things are said or conveyed is important too. Any relation needs some sacrifice, some accommodation and some patience. Especially marriage. Nowadays none of the marriage happen in a blink. You meet the person, see if you are compatible and then take the plunge. When you take the plunge, have some patience, some tolerance to see that it succeeds. Yes both the parties do need to work on it. You may get worked up because of your work and then scream on him and he may get worked up and scream on you. Thats normal. You don’t have to cry ‘Injustice’ or run to your momma. It happens.

There are two point of view in any situation and we often jump to conclusions hearing only one point of view. A family friends daughter complained to her mother about how her husband had yelled at her. Her mother had asked,’and what had you done?’ I was  young and had drawn daggers at the man and had not understood what aunty had meant. I guess today I do.

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I am incoherent, ain’t I? But I had to put this down. My intentions are not to hurt anybody, just putting down what I feel.

I have often wondered will I ever see my 50th wedding anniversary. They married when she was 17 and he 25. So has it been a good marriage, who knows. Who am I to judge anybody least of all my parents. At times I have felt -why are they staying with each other and at times I have gone awww…

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Remember Tell a tale contest and my entry. Well I did not win. I was upset for about 10 minutes and then I was fine. For a second I felt, ok I am not good at this too and then was alright.

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My son says he is no longer a baby and is a big boy and yet wants to be fed and bathed. Whatever I teach him is not good while teacher knows best. All his friends are my friends too but I should not play with them

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I am now branching off to a territory which has never been tried by me before so please wish me luck folks.

I kill feelings

I kill conversations

I also kill cockroaches

Mukund was playing withthe cereals when Puja came and yelled, ‘What is this Mukund, start eating, as such you are such a slow eater, you will be late for school. And did you keep your Social Text in the bag,’ and when Mukund bent his head, she knew he hadn’t. ‘What is this Mukund,   I have to remind you of this too, why can’t you at least take care of your time table?’

‘Puja’, said Arvind while coming out of the bathroom,’Why are you always after him?’

‘After him? He will not take his book otherwise and why don’ t you hurry up, otherwise you will be late and then you will skip breakfast and race your car’.

‘Alright, alright…’, said Arvind.

Puja returned late from office to see Mukund playing with His darts. On checking his notebook, she came to know that he had not done his homework. ‘Mukund, why have you not done your homework and I am sure you have not prepared for the test.’

‘No’, he said

‘What is this Mukund? Will you do only if I tell you. Come on, you are ten now, be a little responsible, see Shweta, her mom does not have to worry about her at all. Why can’t you take charge of yourself?’

‘Puja, don’t compare’, said Arvind

‘And what about you, it is  your report submission tomorrow and I am sure you have not even started.’

‘I will start Puja as soon as this news gets over’, he said

‘Yes, you will sit till midnight and then won’t be able to get up in the morning’, said Puja

It was almost 1 am when Arvind came to the room to sleep

‘See I told you…’, said Puja

‘Puja, stop it. Don’t be so irritating.’

‘Irritating, me?’, said she

‘Yes. You are always telling us to do this and do that. And just because you are always dictating us, Mukund has never learnt to take any responsibility.’

Puja in shock was not able to say anything and spent the entire night in thought. ‘Was she the culprit’ Will they be able to manage if she did not dictate’ and so on.

The next day onwards Mukund and Arvind saw a changed Puja.

She did not check Mukund’s notes

She did not see if Arvind kept his files properly or whether his reports were ready.

Mukund could play as much as he could.

Arvind could sleep as late as he could and…. could get up as late as he wanted.

After 3-4 days Mukund was swollen faced when Puja came from work. ‘What happened?’, she asked

‘Teacher made me stand for an entire period’, he said

‘Why?’, she asked

‘I forgot to take my English workbook.’

‘Why you forgot?’

‘Mamma you don’t love me, do you? YOu don’t wake me, you don’t remind me’

‘I do love you but I thought you don’t like me nagging’.

At that time Arvind intervene, I did not mean that way Puja’, he said sheepishly, ‘I just said that too much nagging is not good like you can ask us to get up, you can remind us if we have forgotten something, you know that way.’

‘Hmm, said Puja but how will I know how much nagging is enough?’

‘You know say something once or twice and that is enough.’

‘So I should nag?’

‘Yes please….’ cried out both

The mother tried to console the baby. She had had him after 7 long years of wanting a child.  And 10 years of marriage. A single scratch on him scared her. Will it become a sore, was it paining a lot. Her mother always told her not to be so attached, so in control of her child. But how could she not. Until Aditya was a little bigger, she had to take care, didn’t she?

Aditya by now had got fed up of all the cuddling and wanted to go off again. He wriggled but no, his  mom would not leave him.

Sanjay meanwhile was doing the sudoku. At least trying to do so. His mind was far away. He was a journalist and was used to travel. But not like this. He just did not like this sleeper class travel. but he had been forced. Yes forced.

His wife of 5 years had left him. Because she said that he had become mechanical. His sensitivity, emotions had all left him, she said. He did not respect her, for that matter she said, he did not even respect himself. Always being perfect, always complying to his expectations was getting on to her and so she was leaving him. To add to his misery, he was not given any dicey assignments. When he had asked why, his superior had said that he lacked sensitivity. On the verge of a nervous breakdown, the same ‘boss’ of his asked him to take a train ride and rediscover ‘life’,

‘Hey you’, he called out at one of the boys playing cards,’ Why are you throwing the banana peel down, can’t you get up and throw it in the bin? And hey you’, he called out at the mother, ‘can’t you see your son wants to be free.’ And then he gave a look at the beauty Khushi too who dropped her mirror into her purse.

The mother had let go of her son and Aditya in his curiosity had gone near to Sanjay. He pulled his cheeks and gave a smile but Sanjay in his fury just glared at him and Aditya ran back to his mother.

For once there was silence in the compartment.

‘Hatto, hatto’, there was a voice and a lady in her 60s battled amongst the crowd and came and sat there.

‘Excuse me,’ said Sanjay, we are already too many here, so can you find another place?’

‘Sure. But you see I have a RAC ticket and as soon as a TC comes and gives me a berth I will move’, said she.

The train left Varanasi. In no time the mother, the old lady and Khushi had become friends, In time, boxes were opened and food shared. Sanjay was irritated. He was hungry and secondly it was a long time since he had had home cooked food.

‘Beta’, it was the old lady and she was offering him some laddoos. He looked up to see that all the others were having it too.

‘No’, he said rudely.

‘Why? Do you have diabetes?’, asked she.

‘Why, does it matter to you whether I am diabetic or not?’

‘No but I have some other munchies too if you don’t want these….’

‘See you old lady, mind your own business, don’t mess with me…’, said Sanjay.

‘Hey you, keep your frustrations to yourself but be respectful to an old lady,’ it was one of the boys playing cards.

The old lady sensing that a fight was about to ensue sat down signaling the other guy to be quiet.

‘You had come to visit Kashi Vishwanath aunty’, it was Khushi.

‘Not really. I came to meet my daughter.’ And then with a look at Sanjay she added, ‘Priya lost her husband and her 10 year old son in an accident. After that for a few months she was lost in her own thoughts’

‘Then?’, it was the mother.

‘Then she read an article of how some widows were left in Varanasi to fend for themselves. That changed her life. She came down here and with the help of NGO’s, benefactors and even some government agencies, she set up her institution for widows which help them make self-reliant. Today she helps to help women like her- widowed and lonely’. She said this with pride.

By then the TC came and allotted her a seat at the other end of the bogie.

As she was leaving she tapped Sanjay on his shoulders and said,’Son, a number of hurdles come in life, personal, professional but the trick is how you face them. It’s very easy to buckle under them but the trick is how you survive them.’

When Sanjay reached his destination it was with a new vigor and hope.

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Taking part in the Tell a tale contest
And the rules are

1. Contestants should complete this story in 750-800 words(Excluding my start).
2. Contestants should tag two(minimum) other bloggers to participate in the contest.
3. Contestants should leave their suggestions/appreciations on fellow contestants post
4. Contestants should tag this post while making an entry to the contest.
Create a new post in your blog, link it here and leave a comment for me to know!
5. Contestants will be judged on
a. Creativity
b. Originality/ Fresh thoughts
c. Climax of the story
d. Good written English
e. Message of the story

A Contest closes on 31st January 2012.

Hope I have complied to the rules.

Have to tag two persons so tagging two of those who like to ‘fiction’.

Deboshree

Knot2share