Reading Challenge

Silence

Silence.

It appears in your life all of a sudden, without any warning.

Normally your day is made up of a routine. Unconsciously or knowingly, all of us follow a routine. For some, it is the same set of tasks that they do, at the given time and place. For others, it is the same set of thoughts that they think every day. Only the effect of the thoughts changes. Some bring in the same kind of emotions but with changing intensity. Your day is not just made up of physical work, but mental activity too.

And then, Silence makes its presence felt at some point during your day. It could be the busiest day of your life, or the laziest day. It could be any time of the day. But you feel it.

It's like, you were shivering badly and a huge warm blanket wrapped itself around you. Or, you were watching the sea with its tidal waves, and in the blink of an eye, the waves disappeared, leaving behind just the sea with no motion at all. Or, on a bright sunny day, a huge dark grey cloud covered the sky and brought in cold and darkness in the world.

Silence. It is necessary. It is the sleep that your tired soul craves. It is the night that your hyper-active mind longs for. It makes you view the bigger picture. You face the question - 'Who am I?' when you confront Silence. And this question is just the beginning of Self-Realisation. Gradually you will realize that you are not the physical work you do, you are not the thoughts that you think every day. You are Formless. One with the Universe. There is no Other. Just You. One Self manifesting as Many. All your struggles, physical and mental, end when you realise your true nature.

Silence. It is the beginning. And the End. 

Almost Forty

At the thirty-eighth year of life, I can safely say that I no longer come under the slot of 'Young Adult'. . And I have to say this, it isn't as bad as I had assumed it to be. While in my teenage, I used to fear the term 'adulthood'. Every birthday, although a reason to celebrate, ended up with the sinking feeling that I am inching closer and closer to the most dreaded phase of my life.

But now, having reached this stage, I find that it has its own charm. For starters, one can choose their own norms for beauty, without feeling any 'peer' pressure. Some change their life-style, adopting modern trends, increasing visits to the parlour and trying to 'move on with the times'. Although there are some who do all these simply because they wish to, I don't deny that there are exceptions too who feel that they should put up a good fight against ageing and hence all the above tactics.

Then there are the others. They no longer feel the need to beautify themselves. They accept themselves for what they are and are quite comfortable with being their natural selves. Their wardrobe has more of 'comfort' wear than 'traditional' or 'modern' and fashion statements are the last thing on their minds.

Another good thing about being 'Almost-forty' - you can openly speak on all topics without cringing or hesitating. It is a good time for open discussions on topics otherwise forbidden in your childhood or teenage. I believe this is the age where more free thinkers come forth and speak their minds.

And once you reach this stage, you find that the fear of ageing evaporates with every given day. You take it in stride that time is passing. In fact, some even believe that life starts after forty. You have various options for your life-style now, you know. You can choose a healthy (albeit boring) life-style - eating healthy, exercising and the likes. Alternatively, you can decide to go out with a bang and do whatever you have always wanted to - eat without a care, party all night and just have fun. Go ahead, you have earned it!

But the best part of this time - your friends! Those who made it till your fortieth, no matter how early or late they came into your life - never, ever, let them go! These are the people that give a purpose to your life when all seems to be done. Of course, you still have the kids to take care of and a family to look after. But friends will make everything light and bright. And they always make for excellent company - whether you want a sombre evening or a party!

Really, the forties are all right. And when we reach 'Almost fifty' - let us meet again and discuss the pros - only the pros!

She became her own Santa

She believed in miracles, but not in their existence. Miracles could be created.

Grace existed in the Universe. When she earned something that she didn't have to put any efforts for, she believed that it was the Universe showering its grace on her.

She believed in Good Samaritans. There were no dramatic rescues or last-minute life-saving events. Rather she found the spirit of the Good Samaritan in strangers who helped her unasked and unexpectedly in her day-to-day life.

She could have chosen to not to believe. For her life was plain, ordinary, just like herself.

Things changed when she decided to become her own Santa. She gifted herself forgiveness and recovery. She allowed herself to believe in her self-worth. She graciously took in the gifts of dignity and self-esteem.

She didn't become a warrior, for fighting wasn't in her nature. But she learnt to nurture the wounds that others inflicted on her. She didn't ignore them, like she had been doing for a long time.

She still couldn't place herself first, for it is difficult and almost impossible to break habits formed over years. But she lifted herself out of the last place that she had accorded for herself.

She couldn't believe that she had deserved it. But she slowly started believing that she had earned it.

Life still wasn't a bed of roses, but she started removing the thorns, one at a time.

The flowers would bloom. The fragrance would spread out and one day her garden would be in its full grandeur, for she had planted the seeds.

She became her own Santa, created miracles and believed in Grace, and Good Samaritans.

The Ride of Life

The children - they were his joy, his sunshine on a rainy day and his reason for believing in the goodness of life. Their excited voices made him forget the harsh words that he received frequently, and their laughter brought a smile in his face always. He was extremely protective about them, and ensured that each and every child reached home safely. 

The people he met during the day - they fascinated him.  He met all kinds of people and by now, he knew to handle every type. There were some who were rude by nature. Their very first words would sound like a command and he would remind himself to not to react to them. They would bargain with him for the fare and he would try to get the best deal. But most of the times he would let go, seeing the frustration and despair behind the angry facade that the people put forth while bargaining. It sometimes seemed like a desperate plea by them, to have atleast one thing right in their day. He only felt compassion for these people. 

Then there were the other type - jovial by nature. They would bargain with a smile and give up in an attempt or two, laughing and shaking their heads. These were his favourite kind of people. They always had something to talk to him and he absolutely enjoyed their company and conversations. These people brightened his day and gave a purpose to his job.

The teenagers - they were a different breed, and he worried about them the most. There was this girl, apparently suffering from a heart-break. He had seen her crying and wiping her eyes. He had seen her cleaning her face with a wet tissue before she reached home. He had heard her talking to her friend over the phone and sobbing her heart out. Then there was the boy, the silent one, with a face totally devoid of any expression. He agreed to whatever the fare was, and hardly exchanged a word with him. His heart broke when he thought about today's teenagers and the various issues they dealt with. He longed to help them in someway, but knew that they had to carve their own life ahead. He also encountered the rowdy types, all loud voices and dirty language. He specially worried for these kids, because he had a fair idea of where they were headed to. 

The ladies - he felt a special kind of compassion for them. Some would be standing with two to three bags in their hand in the harsh noon. Some would be with kids. They all always seemed to be pre-occupied, worrying about something or the other. 

The day always passed away quickly for him, and at night, before he fell asleep, he would think about the people he met and say a silent prayer for each and every one with whom he felt some connection. He prayed for relief and peace for these people. And he thanked the powers above for another fulfilling day. At dawn, the auto-rickshaw driver would wake up, all set to start another day and to meet another set of fascinating people. 

Not The Hustle-Bustle Of Daily Life For Me

Not the hustle-bustle of daily life for me.

I wish for the Eternal Silence of the sea, beneath which lies a beautiful and infinite world filled with colors and shapes and beings operating on a different level of existence. Here, life exists purely on instinct and every moment alive will be a reason to celebrate and to be grateful for. Alongside the beautiful and enormous beings inhibiting this world, I will swim, existing for the moment with not a thought for the next!

Not the hustle-bustle of daily life for me.

I wish for the Eternal Silence of the Sky, the glorious infinite dome that stretches into oblivion. When darkness prevails, I will have the radiant stars and moon for company. In the light of the day, I will travel to various worlds illuminated by the radiant Sun and gaze upon the tiny world below. There, Up above, nothing will matter. Only Time and Space will exist around me, and I will ultimately be one with the grand Universe.

Not the hustle-bustle of daily life for me.

I wish for the soothing shelter of the forest. Beneath a tree, I will sit and bask in its cool shade. Surrounded by trees and lying on a meadow, I will feel the benevolent love of Mother Nature protecting me from the harshness of mankind. Here, with my immobile friends, I know that Mother Nature will care for me, feed my soul and let Her love wash over all my wounds. In Her lap, I will sleep dreaming about a beautiful world filled with love. 

Not the hustle-bustle of daily life for me.

I wish for the shelter of the majestic mountains. Beneath the enormous mountain, I will lay down, feeling the insignificance and negligence of my tiny existence. The mountains will hide me from the evils of the world and will nurture my soul through their sheer beauty and magnanimity. The winds may howl, and the rain pour down in torrents, and yet beneath a mountain, I will lie, for I know that either it will protect me from everything or allow me to merge into it, thereby making me one with the most magnificent work of Nature.

Not the hustle-bustle of the daily life for me. I only ask for Eternal Stay in the soft lap of Mother Nature, surrounded by her overflowing love and nurturing care! 

The Legacy

"You know, this was a good idea. I had my doubts at first. But now I see that I took the correct decision. You are really easy to talk to. I already feel better." She said as she stood near the door.

"I am glad that I could help you." Abhinav smiled and waved at her as she left the room. He checked his appointment book. There was a break for an hour. He leaned back on his chair and sighed in contentment. 

His gaze fell on the calendar kept on his table and he realized with a start that exactly two months had passed since he had opened his psychiatric clinic. The first month was understandably slow, with the occasional person dropping in to confide to him about his/her troubles and seeking some medicine to relax and slow down. It was only in the current month that his profession had picked up pace and he had found a good surge in the number of people visiting him. 

He turned his chair around and saw the two photographs mounted on the wall behind him. He looked at his father's photo with deep longing. It was six months since his dad passed away, and yet he still found it impossible to believe that this person, this awesome person was no longer there beside him. 

As long as he could remember, his dad had always been gentle, calm and kind. There was something very calming and soothing about his presence. A well known psychiatrist of his time, he spent equal hours at home too as in his clinic. Abhinav's childhood was a blur of happy moments with his family, with his dad taking the lion's share of memories. There was always laughter whenever he was around, and his solid presence was a constant source of strength for the family.

Abhinav remembered the day when his dad had sat down beside him with a serious air. This was the most important conversation of his life, he believed.

"Son, you are in the ninth standard now. And while some may argue that it is too soon for me to have this talk, I believe that now is always the time to prepare for the future. I want to know whether you have decided what you wish to do in your life. What kind of a career have you envisaged for yourself?" His dad had asked kindly yet firmly.

"I want to be psychiatrist like you." Abhinav didn't have to think twice before saying this. It was something that came naturally to him. He thought he detected a glare of fierce pride in his dad's eyes but just as quickly the feeling passed away.

"That's great to know. Any particular reason why you wish to become a psychiatrist?" 

Abhinav thought for a while. Then he said. "I can see what a calming influence you have on all of us. If this is how your family members feel, then how good the people whom you treat in your clinic must feel after talking to you! I can't solve the problems of the world. I can at least provide respite to people by listening to them and helping them unload their minds of the things that worry them." 

There was no imagining this time. His father hugged him with a beaming smile and held his shoulders affectionately. "I would be lying if I said that I didn't have aspirations for my son to become a psychiatrist. But I didn't want to pressurise you to take up some profession without your interest in it. Now that you have decided what you wish to be, there is something I need to show to you."

His father eagerly opened the diary that he had been holding and took out a paper. It was a pencil shading of an owl beside a tree. On one side of the paper, there was a lyric written in a clear handwriting. A wise old owl sat on an oak, The more he saw the less he spoke. The less he spoke the more he heard, Why aren't we like that wise old bird? 

"What is this dad?" Abhinav had asked.

"This, my son, is a part of our heritage. You see, your grandfather, i.e. my father, had the same kind of talk with me too. And once I had told him my decision to become a psychiatrist like him, he gave this paper to me. Read the lines." His dad had almost reverentially handed over the paper to him and Abhinav had read the lines. 

When his father had seen him pondering over the lines, he had explained to him. "I want to teach you the most important part about being a psychiatrist." This had captured Abhinav's attention and he totally focused on his dad. "Remember, the first and foremost lesson is to be a listener and not a talker in your profession. And do you know what I mean by 'listening'?"

"Hmm.. same as hearing, dad?" Abhinav had replied. His dad smiled and shook his head.

"No son. It is not the same as hearing. To listen, means to hear what is not being said. Some person comes and starts talking to you. You hear what he or she is saying, but you listen to what is not being said! Outwardly the person might be complaining about others, but many a times, it is just a reflection of what that person finds wrong with himself or herself. Are you getting my point?"

"I think so." Abhinav said with hesitation.

"Let me clarify this. The basic rule that you should follow is - Do not judge anyone! Every culprit is a victim. Every rude person you encounter is someone with a bruised heart. Silence does not necessarily mean the presence of calm, it may also mean the presence of deep-rooted grief."

At this Abhinav's eyes had widened. "How will I learn to listen to what is not being said?"

His father had affectionately ruffled his hair. "By being like the wise owl. Be an observer, Abhi. Lend your voice, but more frequently, lend your ears. Be a listener. You learn a lot when you see people with an air of dispassion. Do not just focus on what a person did, but learn to focus on why he or she did it. This is the stuff that good psychiatrists are made of."

Abhinav had taken this conversation to his heart. The day he had successfully cleared his degree of psychiatry, his father had hugged him hard and handed over the drawing of the owl to him. "Keep this with you always. May it remind you of the power of observing and listening." It was the best gift that Abhinav could have got, a part of his dad's and thereby, his legacy.

He shook his head sadly as he returned back to the present moment. He remembered the grief he had felt when the paper was lost while his family was shifting to a new home. His dad had made light of the matter but he had been affected by it, Abhinav could say for sure. 

His phone rang. He answered it and found that it was a call from the receptionist informing him that his next patient had arrived. He told her to send him in. He took a deep breath to bring himself in the present moment. By the time, his door opened and the young man walked in, Abhinav was a picture of calm and peace. 

The young man waved to him and sat on a chair opposite to him. He was a new patient and Abhinav waited for him to settle down. The young man looked around the room and his gaze fell on the photographs mounted behind him. 

"That's your dad. You look like him." The young man mentioned and Abhinav smiled and nodded his head.

"And the photograph next to your dad's? The writing's too light, I can't make out the words. All I can see is an owl sitting beside a tree. Looks like a drawing." 

Abhinav smiled as he looked back at the photograph, the framed photograph of the paper passed on to him by his grandfather and father, a part of his family legacy that he had thought to be lost forever, only to find it miraculously stowed in a book that he fortunately hadn't given away. 

"That, my friend, is a family legacy. Now, why don't we talk about you?" Gently he led the conversation away from him and began the process of Listening and Observing. Like the Wise Owl. 

Life-lessons from LOTR

He is just a hobbit, Frodo, a young one by hobbit age. He likes his hobbit-hole, safe and warm. All he wants to do is just stay with his uncle Bilbo and enjoy the festivities in his village named Shire along with his friends Pippin and Merry. All is well in his little warm world, until one day, one fatalistic birthday..

His uncle disappears and Frodo finds himself the unwilling recipient of a ring. A ring that symbolises evil. A ring that controls the wearer. A ring, forged into fire, that provides unlimited power to the wearer. A ring that is required to awaken an evil king. Young Frodo is scared. He doesn't know about the evil king, or his evil minions, The Nine Wreaths who are already out to search for the ring. And just when Frodo thinks that things could not go wrong, he learns, much to his horror and despair, that the ring wants to be found by the king and can actually strive to make its presence felt!

Therein begins the adventure of a young hobbit. While he leaves the comfort and safety of his house, he feels scared. There is warmth in the house, and danger outside, in the big bad world. But for the greater good, to dispose off the ring once and for all, Frodo walks out into the night, away from the safety of his precious Shire. He doesn't know any magic, he can't swing any weapon. He doesn't know where to go or what to do. He has only one purpose - to take the ring to Mount Doom and throw it into the Fire which and only which can destroy the ring once and for all. 

There are two Frodos living inside us. One Frodo wants comfort, safety, familiarity. When confronted with a responsibility, the other Frodo makes his presence felt. The one who takes up a duty for the greater good, who faces his fears and marches out into the unknown. The one who doesn't hesitate to acknowledge the enormity of the situation, gets scared by it and yet proceeds ahead in his mission, simply out of duty's sake. The secret is in knowing that we can be both of these when the situation calls for! 

Frodo cherishes his friends. During the dark days of his travel out of Shire, his friends bring light and laughter in his world through their adorable and endearingly familiar antics. When he stealthily tries to leave his friends behind and walk ahead in the Road of Danger, his faithful friend Sam too tags behind him, never leaving Frodo alone for a single minute, until the end of their endlessly long and remarkable journey. 

What endears this little hobbit the most to the reader? He is like a mouse, let loose amongst the elephants. There are kings in the tale, horrible monsters, menacing wizards, captivating elves and sturdy and dangerous dwarfs. They all know how to fight, except for our Frodo. Amongst the powers of the World, the little hobbit drifts uneasily, not sure of what is happening around. And yet, his journey is the toughest. His struggle is the longest. His danger is the meanest. Controlled by a power stronger than him, he wades through all the obstacles, fighting against the power of the ring and almost succumbing to it at one point of time.  

And while there are many other people to help him, this hobbit Frodo wins the heart. For sheer bravery and courage, for accepting a responsibility that would prove almost fatal for him, for being a David amongst the Goliaths of his time. For saying ' I will!' when all he wanted to say was 'I can't!'. For forgiving those who took advantage of him again and again and landed him in danger. For being ridiculously courageous to leave out into the world at night on an unknown path, all on the instructions of a wizard whom he trusts more than life itself. For embarking on a journey that he knows may end unfavourably for him. For showing the slightly weak trait of almost succumbing to the temptation of unlimited power. 

There are good wizards too in the tale, you know. There are kings, raised from their ancient heritage to overthrow an empire of monsters and evil wizards. But on any given day, I would choose Frodo, the young and hapless hobbit over them!

A Note To My Fifty Year Old Self..

Dear Me,

You may find it preposterous to get a letter from your middle-aged self, dating ten to twelve years back. But trust me, if you have made it till your fiftieth, and if you read this, you will be grateful. I only wish that I had this idea a decade ago! 

First things first, when you are at your fiftieth year of life, you will find yourself in a dilemma. You aren't exactly old, you definitely won't be young. But the wishes and aspirations will be that of a girl! My advice here? Listen to your heart! It wouldn't have aged with you. Unless you keep shutting it out, in which case, it will learn to stay quite. The whispers will stop and you will suddenly wonder what is wrong with your life! So, listen to your heart!

Contrary to what everyone says, the evening of your life is exactly not a bad time! All good parties start in the evening, remember? So let the party of your life begin at your fiftieth year. Care to dress well. Wear what you like. Splurge on yourself. Prepare a bucket list, but not when you are about to kick the bucket. Prepare it when you don't need it! Remember the tour of Europe that you so badly wished to take! Nothing's stopping you now! Go for it! The cruise? You wished to go on a cruise at least once in your lifetime. This is it! 

Do not unnecessarily interfere in your boy's life. Be there for him of course, but learn to not to worry about him anymore. He is a teenager, for God's sake! Be his friend, and like all good friends do, give him his space! Allow him to choose his own path, his own way. You have taught him to listen to his consciousness. Now he will carve his own road ahead! Be there beside him, silently watchful, but do not hinder his journey with any misguided directions!

The evening time is also a time for quiet reflection of our self. Allow room for spirituality in your life. The questions will confront you for sure, about what lies ahead. If you want answers, embrace spirituality! You have aged, but the books, the most loyal of your friends, have not! Have a regular date with them. Probe into them, look for deeper meaning, ask for answers. Prepare yourself for the next great adventure that lies ahead of you! 

If your friends of the past years are still with you, then you have had a meaningful life. Keep these friends close to your heart, the ones who made it till your fiftieth year, who stood by you in all the ups and downs of your life, and who made your life better with their presence and support. Look after each other, you and your friends! 

But most of all, learn to have fun. There is no point in living, if you can't feel alive. Let go of all your regrets. By this time, you have done all you could. Now you just need to live it out. 

The grand party of your life has started. Enjoy!

A Journey Begins...

The rain-forest is sprawled out below and I take in the panoramic view from the suspension bridge hovering several lengths above the forest. The air around here is cold, and I tug in my overcoat tighter around me. The chill doesn't bother me much. In fact, I think I could get used to it.

This place has done wonders for me. I remember people mocking me when I told them of my plan. Staying at the resort around the rain-forest ALONE? You won't have fun. What would you do on your own for three whole days! I remember my own hesitation and uncertainty about this trip. But something made me go ahead with the decision and here I am, standing at a beautiful place and feeling blissful and contented. 

I feel the crazy urge to write something. But what? This place here feels like the culmination of the journey of a lifetime. So where and how do I begin my story?

I clutch my ever-present notepad tightly and the pen hovers above it, wishing to write something but not getting a start. I reflect on my life, hoping to find something that can be said to be the origin of my journey as a traveller and a writer. 

My life, like infinite number of others, has not been a bed of roses. There have been ups and downs and there will be many more ahead. But nothing, absolutely nothing, can ever beat the regret of having passed up a chance in my early years to build a solid foundation for my passion for writing. What do they say about the regret that accompanies you to your death? This possibly will make it to the list. 

I made books my best friend, and spent the better part of my childhood and teenage stuck behind books - books that spoke to me, that soothed my soul and quenched my thirst for the perfect companion, for I couldn't find anyone better than a book! 

The laughter drifting from a couple passing by, brings me back to the present and I take a deep breath as I shift gears from the past to the present. Several couples and families pass by. They make me feel grateful for my constant companion - Solitude. It is precious and I cherish it. It has made me a better person, my solitude, and has often answered questions asked by my very soul. 

The bridge swings slightly, making the travellers laugh with anxiety and nervousness. I hold on to the railing, feeling a moment of panic. But it passes away, as the bridge steadies itself after another wave. 

I think about the hardest decision of my life - leaving a well-paying job. On one hand, were the branded possessions of my life, starting from my clothes to my travel-kit. On other hand, was the promise of adventure and a summons to my soul. I spent many a sleepless night over this, and finally found the right and sensible solution. 

Far below, a bird calls out, and hundreds of birds respond to its call with vigour. Suspended in the air, with a panoramic forest below and the sudden eruption of the birds' calls, I feel a sense of awe and wonder. For a second, all the travellers in the bridge fall silent, looking for the source of the sound. After few minutes, every one quietly leaves the bridge, probably making way for the nocturnal beings. It is a beautiful and mystic twilight in the forest!

Does it scare me? No. I feel a deep sense of gratitude and contentment. I know what to write now. I leave for my room in the resort, having found what to write - for my first assignment as a travel writer. And while I am not where I had hoped to be, I am grateful for where I am at, and excited about where I am going!

Her Secret Admirer - 2

How did I get into this, Sachin shook his head for the umpteenth time as he waited beside the limousine that was to carry him and Priya to the premiere. This event was supposed to be covered solely by Priya but she had approached him, though with hesitation, and asked him to accompany her.

"It's my first big event and I don't want to mess it up. You are already experienced in these kind of events. Won't you help me?" She had pleaded to him with those kaajal-lined pretty and big eyes and he had found himself nodding his head mutely.

Now he was waiting outside her building to pick her up. He looked at himself again in the mirror. Brown wavy hair (he felt it was a bit long now, it was already touching his shoulders), blue blazer with matching suit and a good flamboyant tie. He liked this look. Hope Priya likes it too!

As he looked again towards the entrance of the building, his breath caught in his throat. Priya was dressed in a black full-length evening gown with hair let loose on her shoulders. She looked like a Greek goddess and he couldn't stop staring at her.  He somehow managed to come back to his senses. Time to turn on my charm, he thought in despair. Sarcasm was the mechanism that he usually used to cope with his nervousness around Priya.

"Am I dressed properly for the event?" She asked him as she approached near him. He could see a hint of make-up on her. It accentuated her pretty face and somehow made her look much more beautiful than she already was.

"Yes, this will do." He said in a dry tone and then added, "Anyways, the main point to remember is, no one is going to look at you at the premiere. There will be stars of the industry there today, right?"

Round One had begun. He smiled inwardly when he saw her fume in anger. She didn't reply, just shook her head and got inside the car, muttering something, which Sachin knew for sure was totally unflattering about him.

The drive was smooth and silent on the outside, but a storm was raging inside Sachin. He kept looking out of the window but he was totally aware of the amazing woman beside him. He could feel her every action, every tiny movement she made and it made him want to look at her again. But he knew that if he looked at her now, his eyes would give away each and every feeling that he had for her.

The journey of an hour felt like ages to him. Finally they reached their destination. There was a line for parking and their limo waited patiently for its turn.

"Sachin." He looked at her as she called him out in a soft voice. He could see uncertainty and fear in her eyes. There was a vulnerable look in them and he felt the crazy need to protect her.

"What if I mess this up?" She asked in a low voice filled with anxiety and his heart went out to her.

"Why would you mess it up? Act like you have no choice other than to be your best today. You are a smart woman, you can handle this. Don't give room for insecurities, okay. This is your day, so go forth and shine!" He said firmly, trying to project his confidence to her.

She nodded her head and gave a grateful smile. "I know you won't mess up." He said, and after a thought, added. "Because, I am with you." He said with an arrogant wink.

She chuckled and smiled, shaking her head. "You really need a lesson or two in humility, you know."

It was said lightly, but it hurt Sachin. Well, It is what I want it to be. He thought sadly.

Two hours had passed and Sachin looked on with pride as Priya covered the event, starting with the celebrities arriving and also interacting with them confidently. She was a pro in this, though she was yet to know that. Sachin could hardly believe that this was the same nervous lady that he was comforting a while ago in the car. She was a born natural and was in her element today.

He took the chance to look at her to his heart's fill.

"Hey, great show!" He heard someone say that to him with a tap on his shoulder. As he turned around, he saw Rishabh, his dear friend who was a part of event-managing group. They exchanged a hug.

"Ya, nice arrangements as usual Rish..." Sachin replied with a smile.

"I can't believe that's my wife over there. She seems to be on fire today!" Rishabh said with pride and happiness and Sachin felt the same stab on his heart like always.

He had known that Priya was Rishabh's wife when she joined his organisation. He loved Rishabh as a dear friend. But nothing could stop or help him from falling for Priya.

"Yes, she is doing a great job. My boss is going to be so happy." Sachin said with a slight smile.

Both the guys watched the woman they loved - one with happiness and the other with regret and longing.

It seemed a long while when Priya finally finished her coverage. She looked towards Sachin and her face broke into a smile when she saw Rishabh standing there too. She rushed forward and hugged him tightly.

"Great job, sweetheart! You were awesome today!" Rishabh said, looking at her with a tender smile. She beamed with happiness and smiled back at him. Sachin saw the exchange silently, happy for both of them.

"Thanks Sachin for motivating and helping me! Your presence was really crucial to give me the much-needed confidence for this event!" Priya said to Sachin with a warm smile and he smiled back at her, nodding his head.

"You were great. May this be just the first of the many more events that will come your way." He said in a much formal manner, though his heart longed to be informal and friendly with her. He never forgot his limits. He had always kept a casual stance with her and treated her in the same manner that he would treat any other office colleague. It killed him from inside, but he owed it to Rishabh. He would never be known as a home-wrecker.

"Hey... I am just about done with my duties. The team will handle the rest. Want to call it a day and leave for home?" Rishabh asked Priya who immediately agreed.

"I guess the excitement was too much for me to handle. I am feeling really tired. Sachin, the limo will be at your disposal. Make the most of it, okay." Priya winked at Sachin and he laughed.

"All right. Go home and take rest. See you in office on Monday. "

Sachin saw them both leave hand in hand. He allowed himself the now-familiar feelings of regret, loss and heartache. But he didn't dwell on them for a long time. He shook his head and searched for some familiar big-shot faces. He would take their feedback and ensure that they all knew Priya's name and number.

Because sometimes, it was possible to just love a person and care for that person without expecting anything in return. 

The Flooded Basement And A Rush Of Memories!

Write Tribe

Either it didn’t rain at all for days, torturing everyone with the heat, or it rained in torrents, like today. She grumbled as she toiled in the basement of her row house. She had been in there since afternoon, trying to swipe off the water and save any items worth saving. It was a tedious job and she was at the end of her patience. She had had to throw away many cartons containing useless stuff.

“And now, what is this?” She muttered to herself as she came across an unopened carton which was already soaking wet. She tore the top open and peeked inside to see some more useless stuff – pens that were not working anymore and should have hit the recycle bin years ago, some bills whose print had faded away to nothing, some old newspapers and a zip-lock bag containing some –

“Greeting cards! Oh my God!” She whispered in awe as she threw away the carton and sat on a stool with the zip-lock bag in hand. She carefully opened it and saw her precious collection of greeting cards – all from her childhood friends and family. She eagerly opened every card and read the contents, feeling delightfully nostalgic.

She gasped when she came across one particular card. It was from him. He had given it to her on her birthday, just after their break-up. She ran a hand over the card, not sure about how to react. Years had passed by, and yet the card seemed to say that nothing really had changed.

They had been in the same college, though not friends.  But as long as she could remember, she always had had a crush on him, like almost every other girl in her college. His brooding personality seemed to attract everyone to him. She used to watch him from far as he would roam on the campus with his girlfriend (whom she hated with all her heart!). She had already accepted that he was out of bounds for her. So she took heart in just admiring him from a distance.

And then one day, she heard the breaking news that was circulating in the college. He and his girlfriend had broken up. The news filled her with hope. She decided to make her presence known to him and to come to his notice. She made it a point to come to his attention as much as possible. She deliberately passed in front of him again and again, ignoring him outwardly but feeling ridiculously hopeful from within. He did take notice of her, he did get attracted to her and within two months of his break-up, they both had become a couple. Her friends warned her again and again that it seemed too soon and may be this was just a rebound relationship for him but she argued with them and refused to see their point of view. He was the first person she had ever loved and would always love, she had decided resolutely.

It took just six months for their affair to end. It slowly started with him missing out on three dates consecutively. Her friends suggested to her that may be he had withdrawn from the relationship. She was devastated even to think about it. She refused to confront him about the relationship. In fact, for a month, they didn’t meet at all, each avoiding the other.

One day, he had finally taken pity on her and seeking her out, he blurted the truth to her that he didn’t want to be in the relationship. It had broken her heart, but she faced it like a matured person and even suggested that they maintain their friendship, for which he readily agreed.

They had broken up a month before her birthday, and on her birthday, she invited him for a dinner party alongwith her friends. He agreed and accepted her invitation.

To say that the dinner was awkward, would have been an understatement. Not only did her friends avoid him blatantly, some of them even passed rude remarks on him. He listened to everything stoically and stayed silent and subdued throughout the dinner.

After they all had food, they left the hotel and stood on the road, saying bye to each other. Her friends refused to leave them alone and resolutely stood beside her, urging her to ‘get rid of him’ quickly. 

Their remarks had hurt her too, for she was still madly in love with him. He hesitated for some time and finally took out a card from his bag.

“Happy birthday.”

She gulped down the lump that had suddenly appeared on her throat. She nodded and accepted the card. She opened it and read. It was simple, just a card that a friend would give to her. Still, it made her emotional and to her dismay, she broke down, right in front of him.

“Please don’t cry, it’s your birthday. I don’t want you to cry on your birthday. I am really sorry about everything.” He said miserably, not knowing how to comfort her.

She wiped her eyes and laughed nervously. “I am sorry for breaking down like this.”

He didn’t say anything, instead he looked at her in concern. “You said you are okay. You obviously lied.”

She replied in a defiant tone. “I am fine. I am allowed to get emotional every now and then.”

There had been a staring contest between the two. Her friends chose the exact moment to come near her and drag her away from him. He waved sadly to her and left.

An approaching car brought her back to the present day. She hastily put the cards inside the zip-lock bag and scrambled to get out of the basement. God help her if her husband saw it. She would never hear the end of it.

She got out exactly the same moment as he stepped out of the car. She had that naughty look on her face that he had learnt to read by now thoroughly.

“And what have you done now?” He asked, folding his hands and leaning on the edge of his car, an amused look on his face.

“Nothing. How come you are early today?” She asked.

“I am not early, sweetheart. I am late. I couldn’t reach office at all due to the heavy water-logging. I had to wait at the junction for hours and just returned with great difficulty. Tell me what are you hiding behind your back.” He said, approaching her with a mischievous look as she looked here and there for rescue.

Within seconds he had reached her and before she could protest, the zip-lock bag was in his hands. 

He opened the bag and whistled, looking at the cards.

“That’s quite a collection.” He said with raised eye-brows. She didn’t reply, silently praying ‘Let him not find the card, please!’.

Unfortunately, the card was the first one inside the bag. As he opened it, the expression on his face changed to something really smug.

“You still have it, even though we had broken up at that time.” He said smirking in amusement.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I have the habit of accumulating all kinds of garbage!” She shot back. Now that he had found his card, he would tease her mercilessly, she knew.

For few seconds, there was a familiar staring contest between the two. And then they started laughing. He had had a bad day, struck in the worst kind of water-logging situation, she had been inside the basement for hours, but nothing mattered now, in the presence of precious memories and never-ending love.

The mission

Write Tribe

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.” – Cinderella

The afternoon sun shone hard, making it really difficult for him to continue to walk. But walk he did, for today was hopefully the culmination of his mission of almost a year. If all went well, today would be the last day of his search and he would finally rest after a year’s struggle.

When he approached the row-house on the middle of the lane, he knew it. It was as if his heart was programmed to feel their presence. He knew it without a doubt that this was the home. He walked there slowly with heavy steps. He seemed to be dragging his feet now.

After what felt like ages, he stood in front of the home. The door was closed, but not locked. The windows were open but there were curtains covering them from inside the house. There was a small porch at the front of the house where two simple chairs had been kept. Suddenly feeling weary, he slowly climbed the single stair of the house and sat quietly on the chair. He closed his eyes in relief. This is it. The end of my journey, my mission, my efforts…

He wouldn’t say that it had started just a year ago. It started five years ago, on that fateful day when he left for the war. He had said his usual goodbye, assuring everyone that he would return on the next available holiday. But he hadn’t returned. Instead, he had found himself in the most compromising position that every soldier dreads – he was taken as a prisoner of war.

For the first few days he was barely conscious. Even now, in his sleep, he dreamt about the torture. His left leg, now with a permanent limp, twitched slightly, as if remembering those dreadful and miserable days of torture and grief. He had done the very thing that he hated – he had cried, a lot. The pain had been excruciating and humiliating. He had wished badly for death.

They tortured him for the first few days. When they couldn’t get anything from him, they decided to spare him. He was kept in confinement. It was a luxury, compared to the torture chamber. There were two blankets and two pair of clothes. He was allowed to take bath once in a day and had access to the toilet. He was provided simple and basic meals twice in a day. It was during this time that he developed a sense of gratitude for the simple pleasures of life.

The rest of his stay had been un-remarkable. He was not in a very high position in the army, so obviously, no one from his country’s government took the pains to find out whether he was alive or dead. He assumed that his family would have received news of his supposed death by now. He longed for his family badly. It was like a constant heartache that refused to leave him. He turned the ache into his motivation and inspiration. He kept himself strong by eating the food that was given to him and by doing some basic exercises and yoga every day. His left leg didn’t allow for much exercise, still he managed to keep himself active.

He made it a point to maintain good relations with everyone around him. The jailors, the superiors, the cell-mates and every staff with whom he came in contact… They were rough with him at first, then the roughness slowly turned to wary mistrust, then they started humiliating him and finally, when they realized his true nature, that he indeed didn’t mean them any harm and he just wanted to go back home, they started looking at him with respect and awe. That, in turn, led to a friendship never seen in any part of the world. They joked with him, shared lunch with him, treated him with special dishes on their festivals and slowly became an integral part of his life. In a way, he began to look at them as the family that had replaced his.

 Four years later, from the time he left his family for the war, he was released. There was no breaking news to report, there was no coverage, in fact, no one knew except for himself and the people with whom he had spent the last four years of his life. It was an emotional farewell as almost everyone came to hug him, including those who tortured him. They had felt the most, apologizing to him with folded hands and tears in their eyes. He had hugged them simply, for he was never the one to carry any grudge in his heart. At that moment of time, all that mattered was, he was finally going home.

But he realized that the home that he had been dreaming of, was now just an illusion. His family had moved from there. The neighbors were new and had no idea of who had been staying there and how long. His first reaction was despair, but he allowed it for only the first few minutes. He decided to go to his native place. He decided to move every stone and pillar on the earth to unite with his family.

His visit to the native place was a bit more successful though it didn’t bring immediate results. His family had moved from there too but without leaving any forwarding address. But thankfully, the neighbours were still the same. He stayed at their home for two months, gathering information from all the relatives of his family that the good neighbours knew. And here he realized the importance of a village, for here, the people seemed to make it their business to know everything about every family staying there. Contact numbers were preciously saved in pocket-sized books. Though his family had not provided any number (and here he cursed himself for delaying purchase of a mobile for them), the neighbours had contact numbers of many of his relatives who had visited his native place from time to time.

His first task in the village was to go to his bank and check his account balance. To his relief, he found that his savings were intact and the account had not been closed at all. They wouldn’t know how to close it… he thought fondly about his family. He withdrew some money and purchased a simple mobile phone. After getting a prepaid connection, he started calling every relative whose number was noted in the contact book of his neighbor. The first few calls didn’t yield any results. The relatives expressed shock that he was alive and then regret that his family didn’t know about him.

He had almost lost his hope when he made just another call and the relative mentioned that his family had now moved to the city where he was staying. He didn’t have much details, except the name of the area. He had met them once at a temple in the city, and that’s how he came to know that they had moved there.

After he ended the call, he sat back on the sofa with closed eyes, savoring the victorious sensation. But then he had felt a strange kind of weakness from within. To his utter dismay, he had fallen sick. It seemed to be some sort of a flu that was making rounds in the village. It took him almost three weeks to recover fully.

And finally he had taken a bus to the city where his family now lived. And here he was, sitting outside the house on the chair, wanting to, and yet not wanting to get up and ring the bell. The doubts plagued him like always – would they be alive? But he brushed the concern off. He knew they were alive. He would have felt in his heart if either one of them had left.

He got up slowly from the chair and rang the door-bell. The door opened after few seconds. His mom stood there, first looking at him with narrowed eyes and then with an expression of disbelief, joy and pain. For few seconds, nobody spoke. Then she held his arm and ushered him inside simply saying ‘I have made your favorite lemon-rice today. Go freshen up. I won’t allow you to have lunch without taking a bath.’ Her voice quivered with emotion as she said this.

“Did you remember to make it spicy?” He asked in a low voice, struggling to compose himself.

She just hugged him, not letting go of him for several minutes. Then she looked up at him and smiled. “Of course, I always make it spicy for you. I knew you would come, and you came!” The last three words came out in wonder and awe and he hugged her fiercely.

“Where is father?” He asked her.

She gestured to the verandah at the far end of the house. He walked slowly, taking in his parents’ new house. It was large and airy and felt like his old home.

He saw his father sitting on a chair and gazing out on the verandah. When he heard his footsteps, he turned around and saw him. The same emotions were displayed on his face too – disbelief, joy and pain. His father kept looking at him as he took another chair and sat beside him.

“Did you bring the newspaper? I have not read any paper since five years now.” His father said in a sorrowful tone.

He chuckled, with tears in his eyes. “No, I forgot. But I will bring it everyday, starting from tomorrow. Just like I used to always..”

His father nodded, wiping his eyes. Then he smiled at his son and shook his head. Father and son shared an easy laugh, each rejoicing in the happiness of the other’s company.

“Both of you boys come in and have lunch.” His mother’s strict command came over and they both got up, holding hands. His father noticed his limp and looked at him questioningly. When he shook his head, he accepted and let it go.

His mother had arranged everything on the dining table. She looked at him again in awe. “You are really here.” She said simply.

“Yes, and now I am not going anywhere. I am here to stay.” He said simply.

“Then you better find a wife for yourself or I will bring in a girl of my choice.” He laughed out loud at his mother’s usual threat. It was great to be back home.

Her Secret Admirer

Write Tribe

Sachin saw her enter the meeting-room with a tense expression on her face. He looked down to hide his smile. She waved to him half-heartedly and sat in a chair opposite to him. He saw her link her fingers together and look at the entrance of the room. Her gaze alternated between the entrance and her fingers.

When the all the reporters had assembled in the room, their editor-in-chief entered with an important air, adjusting the lapels of his formal suit and his cuffs while walking towards his chair. “Good afternoon, people.” He muttered and waved off the half-hearted responses coming from the staff.

He leaned back in his chair and looked at all the reporters. “You people know why I have called you here. It is just a general review. As always, I will speak solely from the office’s point of view. So no hard feelings everyone please.”

Some of the reporters shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

The boss glanced at Sachin in amusement. “You seem to be the happiest one in the group today here.” Sachin shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “Arrogant bugger..” The boss said laughingly. “Good work on the coverage of the award function, by the way.” Sachin gave a lazy wave of his hand and said “Thanks.”

“Now, the rest of you…” The boss turned towards the others. “You guys have been working really hard, I know. But you are not giving any meaningful results. Your performance has to be outstanding, notable, commendable… Getting me, people?”

“You, Priya..” The boss said, gesturing to her. Sachin immediately went on alert. “It has been almost a year since you joined us. And I regret to say, that inspite of how promising your first month was, you have not delivered upto our expectations. I am disappointed the most in you. I expect some really good reports from you this month. Understand?”

She gulped and nodded her head. Sachin smiled at her visible embarrassment.

“All right then. I have kept it short this time. Get going, start working. Off to your domains!” The boss dismissed the staff with a smile and sat checking some papers that he had brought.

Sachin lounged on his chair relaxedly, already decided on his next course of action. It pleased him immensely, his job as a reporter. Currently he was covering the political field and for a change, he had covered a major award function two weeks ago. He had met many important people there and had struck a good rapport with them. His aim was to handle the crime section. And he was already working on it.

“Um..Sachin, do you have a minute?” He turned around at the soft voice and saw that it was Priya, standing awkwardly in front of him. He was surprised that she was talking to him. She was usually a very private person and kept to herself most of the times. She did greet him whenever their paths crossed but that was the extent of their conversation.

“Oh.. Hi… Please sit.” He hastily took a chair from the next cubicle and placed it in front of her, motioning her to sit.

“Thanks.” She gave a shy smile and sat down on the chair. Up close, she was even prettier, he thought. A natural beauty, without a hint of any make-up… pretty eyes, soft and curly hair falling in waves around her face, soft voice… All right, we are going off-track here, Sachin thought and shook his head.

“I need a small help. Can you give me some guidelines about how I can progress further in my work? I seem to have reached an impasse. I can’t understand where I am going wrong. The boss always says to spend some time with you and learn from you. Can you just give me some tips?” She asked in a hesitant tone.

Whew boss, way to put me in a soup! He thought in amusement. As it is, he was shyly hiding from her, avoiding to speak to her lest he embarrass himself in front of his crush, and his boss had sent her off to him for ‘guidance’.

“Well, I don’t think I am the right person to guide anyone. All I can say is, you need to let go of all hesitation, shyness or embarrassment when you embark on a reporting project.” Oh, really? His mind sniggered and he ignored it, totally focused on the girl in front of him. “You need to be constantly alert and ahead of everyone. You have to be the first to reach the venue, the first to ask questions, the first to be spotted. I hope I am not preaching..” He said lightly.

“No, no, please go on..” She said immediately and he felt encouraged. He spoke more about the job, taking the chance to watch her expressions range from seriousness to awe.

“And now, after I finish this project, I am hoping to enter the field of crime. Not to commit any, just coverage and exposure.” He finished hastily as she looked at him with something akin to wonder.

“Wow, crime! I would also love to work in that field.” She said.

Oh no, not you.. He thought with a sinking feeling. That was too dangerous. “I don’t think you should go for that field. You would be more comfortable covering Page-3 section, you know.” He blurted out without thinking. The very idea of her handling criminal cases had rattled him badly.

But he seemed to have made a blunder, for he saw the light fade away from her eyes. “Why does everyone keep suggesting that I am more suitable for Page-3?” She asked with indignation, a hurt expression on her face.

“I – I didn’t mean to say it that way.” He said slowly, trying to redeem himself.

She shook her head and got up. “Anyways, thanks for the guidance. I will try to work on the tips that you have given me.” With a nod of her head, she left, making him feel terribly guilty.

An hour later, Priya was sitting with her head in her hand, still not having managed to do anything. It bothered her, this creativity block that she was going through. It was as if her brain had stopped functioning.

She had always been a topper in school and college. She had scored excellent grades in her post-graduate degrees too. Then why was she lagging behind in the office? She couldn’t point out where she was going wrong. She thought about Sachin and frowned. What an arrogant brat! She lay her head down on the table, thinking of what to do ahead. Her phone rang.

She saw that the call was from an unknown number. She answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hello.” Said the voice on the phone. She couldn’t recognize it. “My name is Amit Soni.” She sat up immediately on her chair, her senses on high alert.

“I know you never expected a call from me, as famous as I am, but I’ve been given your name as someone who can help me to manage my PR.”

She couldn’t believe it. The call was from the topmost director of Bollywood, whose movies were currently grossing hundred crores. In sheer disbelief, she forgot to respond.

“Hello? Can you hear me? Isn’t this Priya Menon?” The director said, now sounding irritated.

“H-Hello, yes Sir, I am Priya. H-How can I help you Sir?” She blabbered, her childhood stammer coming back in full force due to excitement and eagerness.

“You must have heard about the new movie that I have directed. It is releasing this Friday.” She held her breath. “I am arranging a premiere show of the movie. Can you come for the same and review it? My movie has got entangled in a controversy, you obviously know this. Come and watch the movie for yourself and write about it. You can also cover the entire premiere. A lot of celebrities are expected. It would be a great opportunity for you.”

She could hardly believe it. Was it a prank-call? It seemed too wonderful to be true. “I am listening Sir.” She said, eager to hear the rest.

“I hope you would find the movie good enough to give a positive feedback. I have called a representative from every major news agency. I hope that you will accept my invitation and attend the premiere.”

“Of course, I will come, Sir! I am honored to get an invite!” She said happily.

“Can you please send your email-Id on my number? I will send the invitation card to you. Please bring a print-out of the same for the function with your office ID and personal ID too.”

“Sure. Thanks a lot, Sir.” She said in a dazed tone.

“I am the one who should thank you. See you at the premiere. Bye.” The call ended. In a daze, she sent her email ID as a message to the number from which she had got the call. Within a minute, her laptop pinged, showing a new mail notification. She opened the mail and saw the invitation for the premiere. Overjoyed, she took a print-out of the same and hurried to the boss’s cabin to show him.

When she approached the cabin, she saw that Sachin was sitting with the boss and they were discussing over some papers.

“Sir, May I?” She asked from the entrance. Her boss looked at her and nodded. She came inside and gave a haughty look towards Sachin. He had the gals to look guilty.

“Sir, I just got this over my mail.” She showed the invite to the boss, aware of Sachin watching her. Eat your heart out, you arrogant boy. She thought with satisfaction.

“I know.” The boss simply said and handed the print-out to her. “Who do you think arranged for Amit Soni to call you? I know him personally and I gave him your number when he asked for a representative from our office to attend the premiere.”

“Oh.” She said, feeling deflated. She saw Sachin look down and hide a smile. It infuriated her.

“This is a good chance for you. Make sure you attend the function and cover it well. Take the best photographer with you and shine in the event.” The boss said, looking at her sternly.

“Ya, right. Thanks for the chance, Sir. I-I won’t mess it up, I assure you.” She managed to say.

“Okay then.” The boss dismissed her and she left the room with a final glance at Sachin.

The boss looked up from the papers and saw her go. He leaned back on his chair and with folded hands, appraised Sachin who was now avoiding his gaze.

“Satisfied? I did act well, didn’t I?” He asked in amusement while Sachin still kept quiet.

The boss laughed heartily. “Look at you! I have never seen you so subdued.” Sachin tried hard to hide his amused smile but failed miserably.

“Okay boy. Off to your seat now. You have already passed on a good coverage event to her, now be prepared to give an outstanding coverage on your next one. Else I will spill the beans to her!” The boss laughed at Sachin’s panicked expression. “I finally have something to make you dance to my tunes.”

Sachin shook his head in amusement and left the cabin.

Kulkarni's Bucket-list

Write Tribe

It was proving to be a sheer torture to simply get up. But get up he did, and looked out of the window of the room. Morning had just set in, the light outside neither too bright nor dim, just about enough to herald the beginning of another day. At fifty years of age, Kulkarni was at the evening of his life. His battle of two years against cancer was at the last stage and he was on the losing side.

At this phase, it didn’t bother him. It had been tough for the first few months, him constantly waging a war against despair, panic and grief. But a death sentence was actually turning out to be a boon, as he realized. For it no longer worried him when he knew that his days on this earth were numbered, and every additional day he woke up seemed to be a bonus. There was no knowing which one would be his last day, so he lived every day to the fullest.

Of course, the grief set in now and then, bringing along with it a fear of the mysterious journey he would embark on soon. The evenings were the worst, for they often made him dull and sad. When sadness came, he embraced it, and surrendered to tears. They always brought relief, the tears. He felt them cleanse his soul and refresh him. Every night he went to sleep with the peace of knowing that nothing really was in his hands now.

Attending to his morning chores was not enjoyable any more, yet he managed to get everything done. He rang up the reception of the hotel and ordered breakfast for him. Yes, of course, he was staying in a hotel, because it was a thing mentioned in his bucket list, the new trend that apparently, terminally-ill people were following. They made a list of things they would like to do before kicking the bucket, and some definitely did it.

This bucket list was the brilliant idea of his son who insisted that Kulkarni should enjoy the last days of his life. They both had prepared the bucket list together, amidst lot of laughter and tears. Oh yes, his son was affected badly. One would think that a man in his thirties, having a family of his own, would have learnt to be strong by now, but no! The boy inside the man had cried pitifully, even more than Kulkarni had. It had tempted Kulkarni badly to long for a second innings. But all tests had been done and there really was no scope. It took a while for his son to accept this, but he seemed to be okay with it now.

Today Kulkarni was supposed to check out from the hotel and return home. He had stayed in the hotel for a week, enjoyed room service, had also attempted the swimming pool. His son regularly took updates from him. And by regularly, it meant hourly. Frankly, more than being humbled, it irritated Kulkarni to no extent. Well, today the torture would be over and he would be at his home, where his son could drop by whenever he wished to check on him.

After having breakfast, Kulkarni packed his meager suitcase and checked-out of the hotel, looking at it lovingly while leaving, for he knew that the chances were few that he would return back. He tipped the staff generously and gave a good feedback about the hotel. By the time his rental car came to pick him up, he was just about ready to hit the bed again. Yes, cancer tired the body and spirit very easily.

An hour later when he had reached home and rested for a while, he took out the bucket list to check the remaining items. He checked the items one by one.

1. Buy that expensive Ipad that I have been lusting after since a while. – Done.

2. Learn the basics of swimming. – Done.

3. Make peace with Shah (His building-member with whom he had had a life-long feud) – Done (with great difficulty, he added in the bracket for his son to check).

4. Watch atleast one season of IPL in a 40-inch Television (Done. Brought the TV, got a connection especially for this!)

5. Stay in a hotel for a week and pamper myself. Done

He came to the last item and did a double-take. Oh God, how could he do this one now? It simply read –

6. Go on a date.

He groaned loudly. Did I actually tell my son that I wished to go on a date? He looked at the picture of his late wife and shrugged guiltily. Sorry, I must not have been on a right state of mind that day. Don’t take it in the wrong way okay.

For a while, he sat miserably, wondering how to get the last item of his list done. Even if I agree to do this, whom would I take on a date with me? Unbidden, the image of Ms.Fernandes came to his mind, startling him. Oh, how did that happen?

Ms.Fernandes lived in his building on the floor below his. She was a widow and had lost her husband about two years ago. Ironical, Kulkarni thought sadly, that Mr.Fernandes died just about the same time when my own death sentence was pronounced! She was in her mid-fifties, having a tall and proud posture. She had a no-nonsense attitude that showed in all the meetings of the society. She had a strict demeanor and didn’t hesitate to show it. So, why would such a person come to my mind as a prospective candidate for a date, he thought in amusement. Because she has always been nice to you, always greeted you whenever you met her, his sub-conscious mind reminded him.

He looked at the bucket-list, he remembered his son’s tear-streaked face and eager expression while preparing the list and decided to complete it at any cost.

Fifteen minutes later, he rang the doorbell at Ms.Fernandes’ house. He tapped his pocket nervously to ensure the presence of the list. She opened the door with a surprised look.

“Oh it’s you Ramesh.” She remarked pleasantly. She always made it a point to address everyone by their first name.

“Umm.. may I come in? I need some help.” Kulkarni said nervously.

“Please do come in!” She made way for him and followed him to her living room. She sat in the sofa in front of him and waited expectantly for him to begin. He nervously cleared his throat.

“Ms.Fernandes, the thing is.. Well, I don’t know how I should say this. Wait a minute.” He took out the bucket list and gave it to her. She raised her eyebrows in amusement but didn’t comment and read the paper.

“I am on a bucket-list.” He said gravely. Her head shot up and he saw her expression change from disbelief to sympathy.

“What is it?”

“Cancer – last stage. Have been fighting since two years now but too tired to make it last anymore. I have no idea of how much time is left, but there is no scope for recovery.”

“I am really, really sorry to hear this. It has come as a shock for me.” She said simply but he was grateful for the sincerity in her tone.

“I get it. I am okay with it. The thing is, my son made this list for me. Told me that I should enjoy my remaining days. Well, I have done everything in the list except the last one which is – to go on a date. I know it sounds ridiculous and silly, but it is my son’s wish. So I want to do it at any cost. I just came to ask you whether..”

“I agree. I will go on a date with you.” She said with a slight smile, taking him aback. Wow, that was really quick and easy!

He gave her a relieved and happy smile. “I can’t tell you how happy you have made me and my son by agreeing to do this. I am really grateful to you. I hope you will take it in the right way. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Ramesh, let us cut down on the formalities. I am not embarrassed at all. I am older than you by three whole years.”

Which has made it a lot more embarrassing for me now! Kulkarni thought miserably. He managed to smile at her. A totally uncomfortably silence followed. He suddenly remembered to ask.

“Oh, you know what, I have no idea about what is expected of me for a date. What should I do?”

She bit back a smile at his confused expression. “For starters, bring some flowers. My Allan used to bring me red roses. You can bring yellow.” She said thoughtfully.

Right, yellow roses. “And.. .what else?”

Her strict expression returned. “Should I tell you everything? Did you never take your wife on a date, Ramesh?” She asked firmly while he winced under her stare.

“I took her to movies with my son. We had him early after our marriage, you know. Right after the first year. There really was no occasion for dates.”

“I see.” She nodded thoughtfully. “You should take me out for dinner at some good restaurant. Dress up nicely and wear shoes. I am really particular about the attire.” She finished in her stern tone.

All right teacher, he almost said but just smiled and nodded his head.

“So can we go tonight?” He asked her hopefully. When she raised her eyebrows in speculation, he quickly added. “This is difficult for me, so I want it to be over as soon as possible.”

She shook her head and laughed. “Just the thing that a lady wishes to hear from the person with whom she would be going on a date! All right then, tonight it is. Come here at sharp 7 pm with the flowers, okay.”

He left for his home, not sure about how he was feeling. It was exciting as well as terrifying too. At home, he ordered for some yellow roses from a nearby florist over the phone and lay on his bed. Suddenly a deep feeling of tiredness came over him. Oh no, not today please, let me complete the last item.. he secretly pleaded, to whom, he didn’t know. But it was as if his borrowed time was reminding him of his impending end. He willed with all his heart for the tiredness to pass away. Feeling defeated, he took his medicine and succumbed to sleep.

When he woke up, it was already 5 in the evening. He checked his phone but thankfully his son had not called. He rang up the florist to remind him about the delivery. He was feeling better after taking the medicine. He prepared a cup of coffee and took some biscuits with it. The doorbell rang. The yellow roses had come. He smiled. They were pretty indeed.

What should I wear for my date.. He stood in front of his wardrobe with his hands on his hips, feeling very excited after months of suffering and grief. At this moment, nothing bothered him, neither his terminal disease, nor his impending and inevitable death. Today he was living again just for the moment, a moment of pure happiness. 

Okay, why not? It is not as if I am going to wear this again. He took out his wedding-reception suit complete with the blazer and laid it down on the bed, admiring it. After a warm shower, he stood in front of the mirror, appraising himself. The blazer hung loosely around his shoulders, for he had lost lot of weight in the past two years. He was now totally bald (Thanks for nothing, blasted Chemo!!). But today his face looked bright and clear, without a trace of any tiredness. Not bad, not bad at all.. 

He gave himself one final appraisal and decided that he had done his best after all.

He made a reservation at a fine-dining hotel situated nearby. It was expensive but cozy and the food and service had earned good reviews. Satisfied with himself, he took the bouquet of yellow roses and checked the time. Five minutes were left for 7 p.m.

He remembered to wear his best shoes and left his house.

When she opened the door, she gave him a satisfied nod. “Punctual and well-dressed. I already like my date for the evening.” She smiled mischievously. She was dressed simply in a sober saree. He was touched that she had agreed to do this. He decided to make the evening enjoyable and memorable for her.

“Oh, these are for you.” He handed over the roses which she accepted with a sweet smile. They stared at each other for few uncomfortable seconds.

“Um.. shall we?” He gestured to the door and she took her purse after arranging the roses in a vase.

“I have booked a table for us at the fine-dining hotel. I hope you like it.” He said nervously as he got inside the rental car that he had called for.

“It’s fine. I have dined a few times there with Allan. It’s a good hotel.” She assured him and he gave a relieved sigh.

“You must miss Allan a lot.” He remarked. They were having a comfortable dinner at a table overlooking the busy road outside. The first few minutes had been really awkward but surprisingly, 

Ms.Fernandes initiated the conversation. From hobbies and likes-dislikes, they had moved to family matters and the places they had travelled.

“Oh yes, I miss him and how! When he passed away, I thought I won’t survive for a month without him. The month turned into year, year has turned into two years now… And here I am! Still alive and living life in the best possible way... It is amazing how time heals everything.”

He nodded gravely. “Time heals indeed. When my wife passed away, it was like a part of me died with her. But I couldn’t get any time to grieve properly, for my cancer made its presence felt just within few months of her death. It nullified every thought and emotion. It still does sometimes.”

She looked at him intently and he felt encouraged to go on. “The evenings are the worst. They make me dull, they remind me of my end, they make me question about what lays ahead. They scare me, the evenings.” He said in a low voice and sat back in his chair, his appetite slowly vanishing.

“I wish I could do something to help.” She said in a tone that spoke of sincerity, sorrow and regret.

“Oh but you already did, Ms.Fernandes. By spending an evening with this dying man, you have already spared him the moroseness of one evening. And I hope the memory of today will soothe me for the rest of the evenings that I may see.” He said with a slight smile.

She looked out for few seconds, seemingly lost in thought. He already regretted burdening her with his sorrows and spoiling their date.

“There is this new animation movie running in theatres that I wish to see. How about tomorrow evening? Can we go?” She asked without any hesitation and awkwardness and he was taken aback yet again, by her generous spirit and inner strength. He recovered himself and said with a chuckle. “I would love to, Ms.Fernandes. If I wake up tomorrow and make it till evening, then we are definitely on for our second date.”

“One must never lose hope, Ramesh.” She chided him in a stern voice.

He smiled affectionately at her. “My dear Ms.Fernandes, hope is just the thing that I cannot afford to have.” She brushed off his statement with a wave of her hand but he could see that she was affected by it. He cleared his throat. “So, any etiquette required while taking a lady to a movie?” He saw her laugh and just like that, the sad moment passed away, leaving only the anticipation of spending another day together.

They decided to walk back to the building. Kulkarni was feeling tired by now and started fantasizing about his warm and cozy bed. Ms.Fernandes walked casually beside him, her face not giving away anything.

“I can’t thank you enough for today, Ms.Fernandes.” He said sincerely when they reached her flat.

“It has been a pleasure, Ramesh. See you tomorrow for the movie?” It was both a question, and an affirmation and he felt a huge wave of sadness envelop him. “Sure. Good night.” She accepted his answer with a smile and waved to him as she got inside her flat.

He slowly made it to his flat and immediately sought out his bed the moment he went inside. He reached for his medicine and after popping it, he lay down, still dressed in his blazer suit. Thank you for another day, he said his usual daily affirmation. I hope you let me see tomorrow too. If I make it tomorrow, there will be another item in my bucket-list. Finally blessed sleep took over.

He did wake up the other day, and the first thing he did was – write on the bucket list.

7. Movie with Ms.Fernandes.

He had been living every day. Now he would start living as per every item on his bucket list.