Chapter 9

                                  CHAPTER 9

The evening sun lit up the sky. The sun was in no hurry to sink down into the horizon. After around half an hour, we reached the place

I found myself standing in front of a huge mansion. The subtle colour of the mansion was deeply in contrast with the bright coloured flowers of the garden which was spread out before the mansion. The strong fragrance of jasmine easily blended with the mild fragrance of the rose. A bug safely landed on a bright, red rose. The proud roses held their heads high. The beautiful, yet humble hibiscus seemed very coy. The dahlia knowing her weakness of not having a sweet fragrance, out shone others by flaunting her ultra bright petals. But I was in no mood to admire the flowers, because my eyes fell on the woman whom I hated the most, the woman who is my rival forever- Shalini. I noticed, she had not changed much. When she raised her head and looked at me, the poet in me popped out.

As the sun shone over her, her sharp features looked unimaginably elegant. She never looked so beautiful before. She was an angel in disguise, I decided. She wore a welcoming smile on her face, but she spoke nothing. I knew she was searching for the right words, but I was not particular about the right words, I just wanted to hear her voice. After few minutes, which seemed like hours to me, she spoke,

“Hey, Anjali! So glad to meet you after a long time.”

I gave her an equally courteous reply.

“ This is my daughter, Kavya”, she said, smiling proudly. 

I waved at the little girl, who was as old as Aadhya.

The bug was now exploring the rose, probably sniffing the flower all the way.

I turned to Shalini.

 “Shalini, do you remember the story you had narrated to me, during our school days?”

“I don’t remember the whole story, but I am able to recollect few parts of it.”

“Well, I actually want to publish the book, you see. So, I-"

“That’s impossible! I can't imagine an author like you, going back to the silly story of mine."

Well, she knows that I’m an author. Not bad, I thought.

“Your story wasn’t really silly”, I said quickly, trying to sound truthful.

“You never said how the story ends. And only you have the right to decide it, since it’s your story. So tell me, what happens in the end?”

“Well, in the end…. They become friends like us”

“Friends like us?” I felt a sudden jolt. I thought I would collapse and become a mass of boneless flesh.

“Are we actually friends?” I asked in a shaky voice.

Shalini gazed at me. It seemed as if she was searching my face. I didn't know what she intended to do. But I knew one thing for sure, she wasn’t looking pleasant anymore.

“Didn’t you realize that I wanted to be your friend? Now her voice sounded like a siren to my ear. She continued, “That’s what I was trying to tell you through the story! Oh!  How can you be so dumb, Anjali?”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. I felt a huge lump in my throat. But I decided not to remain silent this time.

“I-I didn’t….I-I’m s-“

She didn’t wait for me to complete the sentence. She had already wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder… Well, she actually hugged me! I let my tears roll down my cheeks. I wasn’t feeling ashamed, because they were tears of joy. My shoulder was getting wet. I wondered if she was crying too. But my inner voice commanded me to stop wondering things and start relishing the moment. And for the first time, I obediently listened to my inner voice and held her close.

We broke free when we heard two angry, squeaky voices.

It seemed evident that Aadhya and Kavya were having a row.

“That’s a chrysanthemum”, cried Aadhya.

“No, that’s a marigold. Oh! You are so dim-witted!"

“Shut up”

“You shut up”

I turned to face Shalini. She looked at me, straight in the eye. And then… we started giggling together. The sound of our giggle travelled together in the air like the two birds flying overhead.

We made no attempts to stop their argument. Because in our hearts we knew that their rivalry would someday bloom into a beautiful, ever-lasting friendship!   

                                    THE END

A letter to you

Dear friends,

It is my greatest pleasure to write a letter to you. All good things come to an end. And of course, all not-so-good things too eventually come to an end! Thus, my story, The Rivals, has finally ended. This letter is not just to mark the end of the story, I see this letter as the biggest opportunity to express my gratitude towards you.

First of all, I thank God for being my pole star and the captain of the ship. I would like to thank all of you who had the patience to read my posts. I am extremely grateful to Chandana aunty, Sudheeksha, Chinmayee, Srindhi ,Mahisha, Shruthi, Harshini and Priyanka for posting  their comments. Your comments kept me motivated all the time.

 I was really shocked to see Chandana aunty’s comments. I couldn’t believe that she actually spent her precious time on my blog, not just that she was sweet to send me her feedback, too. I feel so safe and secure to have someone as experienced as her, on the ship. And I must thank Sudheeksha for inviting me to teenage writers community. I thank everyone in the community. Actually, I joined the community very recently, yet I feel like I’m part of their family, already. I wish them good luck for their upcoming posts.

I feel so proud to thank my elder brother, Anuraag for all the advices and suggestions he gave me. He politely pointed  out to the drawbacks of the story, so that I can write better the next time. For the past few weeks, my blog has been the dearest thing to me. So, I must definitely thank my blog for displaying my posts every week. Oh! I had almost forgotten to thank the loveliest creatures on Earth-dogs!!! Indeed, I owe them a lot. They have greatly helped me to promote my blog.

.

I’ve always been little hesitant to repeat the same words, but in this letter, the word ‘thank you’ has been repeated for nearly ten times. Yet I have no regrets, as it is such a magical word. I had gone through a different set of emotions during blogging and gratefulness was the best among them. 

This was indeed a wonderful journey. It would not have been possible without your wishes and blessings.

So, I’m obliged to thank you all once again for travelling with me even when you sometimes found the journey tiresome and boring.

 I know that the unfavourable winds would blow against our ship, but my heart is filled with hope. Because I truly believe that a wind, no matter strong it might be, cannot blow away your concern for me.

Yours friendly,

Miraa

    

Chapter 8

                                CHAPTER 8

The share auto stopped at the signal. When I looked at my co-passengers, my eyes fell on the most beautiful thing in the world. It was the gold ear ring that the woman opposite to me was wearing. If there’s something that excites me more than the television serials, it is antique jewellery. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ear ring. I dwelt on the uniqueness of its shape and the artistic work involved in the making. My vigilant surveillance of the gorgeous-looking ear ring ended abruptly when the woman glanced towards me. I quickly averted my gaze and fixed my eyes on the handbag as if my life depended on it.

When we stepped out of the share auto, I decided that it was a peaceful ride except for the skeptical looks which I received from that woman.

I looked down at the road. I know I should walk a long way, but I wasn’t worried, because there is no destination which my legs cannot reach.

“Mom, how long should we walk?” whined Aadhya

.

All the enthusiasm that had stealthily crept into my heart drained out rapidly within a moment when I heard Aadhya squeak.

Nevertheless, we started walking. I had to lower my pace to search for the piece of paper on which I had scribbled the address which Fathima gave me. When I desperately turned over all the totally useless stuff in my bag, I noticed the twenty three year old, yellow, crinkled book cover. The words ‘The Rivals’ appeared almost faded. I  had found the book when I cleaned the attic. I gripped the book tightly until my hands hurt. When I ran my fingers over the book and gently flipped the pages, I suddenly remembered how Shalini had narrated every incident of the story. When I stood in my attic and held the book close to face, I felt a sudden urge to re-write the book- my first book. But Shalini had not narrated the end and only Shalini must decide it.

 I had made up my mind to talk to her about the end of the story at the farewell party. Ah! I remember the farewell party as though it was yesterday….

There was a mixture of feelings in the air. My mind was immersed in nostalgia, pain, excitement and happiness. However, guilt seemed to exceed the rest of the emotions. I kept looking at Shalini through the corner of my eye. Occasionally our eyes met, but she quickly turned away. She was engaged in a conversation with Rita. I cared very little for Rita, nevertheless, I wanted them to end their conversation. Because I didn’t like the idea of talking to Shalini in the presence of her friends. I glanced at my watch. It was getting late. The farewell party would be over in no time. At last, I saw her wave at Rita. It was the right time to talk, I decided.

I approached towards her, taking considerably small steps as I needed to rehearse my speech to her for the hundredth time. Actually there were a lot of things I wanted to talk to her, but my ego wouldn’t allow me to have a friendly chat with her, moreover, there was little time left. So, I decided to talk to her only about the end of the story. With every step, I became more nervous.

When I was just a few yards away from her, I saw her father walk towards her. My heart sank. He had come to pick her up. She hastily bid farewell to all her friends. I don’t know if I imagined it, I think she glanced towards my direction at last.

When I saw her leave the place, I felt remorseful. I had lost the last chance to talk to her about the story. That day, I wondered if I would ever meet her again.

Visit my blog on June 7 for the last chapter, chapter 9!!!

Chapter 7

                                    CHAPTER 7

We had only walked a few yards away from the fruit shop when I spotted a teenager running hastily towards us. He was after us; it was very evident. I stopped walking, Aadhya stopped too. Fear gripped my mind. I knew he was coming to snatch my chain. Or is he going to kill us? The word ‘kill’ echoed in my brain. All the headlines about chain-snatching flashed in my mind. I wanted to run, but my legs weighed a ton. I looked around. There were few people on the road, but I doubted if they would come to our rescue. I was waiting for the ‘adrenaline rush’ to occur hoping that it would help me out, but nothing happened. My legs were transfixed on the road. I felt a tight knot in my stomach, and trust me, it had nothing to do with my bowel movements or hunger. I stood before Aadhya, shielding her. I will protect her till my last breath, I thought. My heartbeats grew louder as he neared us. Suddenly he stopped. Now we stood facing each other. My intuition said that I would faint after a few seconds. However-

“Can I have your autograph, please?”, he blurted out.

I gasped.

At last, I’ve met a person who wants my autograph! The fear of fainting deserted me, but I feared that I would be shocked to death.

I gazed at him. He was deeply coloured. Well, if I had seen myself in my make-up mirror, I also would have found my cheeks in the deepest shades of pink.

“Sure”, I said, trying to hide my excitement.

When I returned the book after signing, he said, “I’ve read all your books. I like The Hit man the most.”

My eyes turned misty. Oh! God, I would rather die than cry in front of Aadhya. So, I quickly regained my composure and managed to say “Thank you.” I saw him leave with a sense of pride and joy.

A crazy idea popped out. Maybe I should invite him to my house. Then, an even crazier idea occurred to me. Maybe I should adopt him. I rejected both the ideas and I decided to feel content with the satisfaction of meeting an avid reader of my books.

I wasn’t too keen on using the share-auto. When you sneeze or burp, all the eyes fall upon you, and when you talk through the phone, everyone hears most of the talking and the shrewd ones try guess the person to whom you are talking to.

When I was in college, one day, I was taking a ride in a share auto. I remember, I was going through a very tough phase of my life. Only two months ago, I had broken up with my boyfriend. I looked at the dress I was wearing and remembered that he had once complimented how beautiful I looked in that dress. I suddenly felt so sad, so depressed. At first, I tried holding back my tears, however, after a few minutes, I found myself weep bitterly.

Everyone gaped at me. An old woman asked me if anything had gone wrong. I felt so weak and vulnerable, and so I told them everything. Thus, everyone, including, the driver heard my ‘break up’ story. Many threw a sympathetic look at me. The kinder souls tried consoling me. Even now, I feel ashamed about revealing my personal experiences to a bunch of strangers.

However, after a few months, my boyfriend and me fell in love again and fortunately or unfortunately ended up marrying each other!

At present, the share auto came to a halt.

“ Srirangam “, called out the driver. Two people left the vehicle. At last, I can breathe fresh air, I thought. How congested had the vehicle been when I squeezed myself and Aadhya into it!

I caught a glimpse of the Sri Ranganathaswamy Temple. I could immediately feel the serenity and tranquillity of the temple, though I viewed it from a distance. I folded my hands in reverence and made a silent prayer for my family. I hate to admit it, but I finally included Shalini in my prayer, too!

Visit my blog on May 31 to read chapter 8 !!!

Chapter 6

                                        CHAPTER 6

My phone’s ringtone was slightly drowned by the noise of the bus horn, but my sharp ears didn’t miss it. I wish it was my husband’s call. I would be happiest woman on earth, if he says that he would have his dinner outside. I squinted at the screen. It was an unknown number! Maybe I am not lucky enough to be the happiest woman today.

Of late,I have developed an abnormal dislike for the unknown callers. Few of them are advertisement calls, other few are the ones which persuade us to take the policies, and most of them are prank calls. Quite a few a times, I had acted as though my mobile does not exist, upon knowing that it is an unknown number. If I had picked up the call, I would tell the silliest excuses to them.

At present, I was trapped in a dilemma whether to attend the call or not. I heard two of my inner voices arguing with each other.

“It might be an important call”, said one voice.

“Why should you pick the call ?”, asked the other voice.

The argument went on for a while until my brain intervened “attending the call is not going to kill you”, it said.

Finally, I attended the call.

“This is a unique policy. We have medical-“

“Sorry, I’m travelling “, I said.

Many times this phrase had acted as the best excuse to abruptly end the unentertaining conversations, but this time, I was only speaking the truth.

There is one phone call which refuses to detach itself from my memory. It is Shalini’s first call. My hands started shivering a little when I heard Shalini’s voice on the line. I was quite taken aback to know that she had called up only to narrate her story! I listened as though my entire life depended on the call. I couldn’t help relating myself to the protagonist of the story and the incidents were in some way linked to our rows and tiffs. She did most of the talking, however when my turn came, I realized that I had temporarily lost the ability to frame complete sentences. Also I kept stammering. I felt nervous throughout the conversation. When I hung up the phone, I felt sad and happy- sad because it was over and happy because it happened.    

Finally, we stepped out of the bus. Aadhya heaved a sigh, she seemed thoroughly relieved. She kept hopping around me playfully until I yelled at her.

We reached a fruit shop. The shopkeeper was definitely making huge profits; there was a big crowd in front of his shop. Aadhya didn’t like the sight of the crowd. However, the sweet smell of alphonsa mangoes kept me rooted to the spot.

The shopkeeper, not knowing about my love towards mangoes, decided to test my patience. He completely ignored me and attended only the regular customers. I glanced at my watch, I had already wasted around twenty minutes! I lost the very last ounce of patience left in me. I turned away and muttered few abusive words. Aadhya let out a low whistle. There was a glint of mischief in her eyes. I wondered if she knew what the words meant. Man, these days, kids are learning everything too quickly!

Want to read Chapter 7?

Then, visit my blog on may 24!!!

Chapter 5

                                    CHAPTER 5                                    

A chill breeze swept over my face, I smiled. Man, I was enjoying every minute of this long bus journey. After all, the journey was giving me a lot of time for sweet-bitter recollections. Moreover, there’s no way I would feel less happy when I’m quite far away from the tiring household chores, my publisher and of course, my mother-in-law!

However, my little girl, sitting on my lap wasn’t liking the journey at all. She was looking grim. She kept toying with my handbag. When she finds my handbag less amusing, she would turn to her teddy bear bag, and when she finds both of the bags less amusing, she would simply look through the window or gaze at the co-passengers. She shifted her weight restlessly.

Talking about her weight, it is one of the biggest concerns of mine and my husband’s. Checking Aadhya’s weight gives me the creeps. She is seven years old and she weighs only 17 kilos. I clasped her bony arm. I wondered how such a skinny child would be born to an over-weight woman like me.

These thoughts made me feel uneasy, I forcibly slid back to my memories.

Sometime around the eight grade, we began to feel matured, and our rivalry followed suit. Our rivalry took a new shape. Shalini abandoned her snares and stares and I opted for cleverer and cleaner methods to put her down.

When these undesirable changes were taking place, Rita joined our school. When the teacher introduced her to the class, she beamed at us. She wasn’t looking pretty, but there was something attractive about her. She was cheerful and optimistic. We soon became good friends. We had a lot of things in common. We both admired Aamir Khan, loved noodles, hated our history teacher. Yet our views about a particular person differed to a huge extent. The person was none other than Shalini, the great!

Rita had a peculiar liking towards Shalini. She spoke to Shalini in an unusually cheerful tone. Rita’s sense of humour would be effortlessly provoked by Shalini’s humourless jokes. Whenever I heard her high      pitched giggle, I knew that Shalini was cracking yet another silly joke. I hate to admit it, I felt jealous every time Rita appreciated Shalini’s work. I feared that Rita would become Shalini’s best friend.

However, we managed to be close friends until one incident.

Our science teacher had assigned a project to us. We were supposed to prepare toilet cleaner or maybe phenol. We divided ourselves into teams. I was the team leader and of course, Rita was in my team. My team wasn’t working efficiently. The nerve cells of my team mates were completely soaked in lethargy and I truly believed that procrastination was their best friend forever.

On the submission day, when my team couldn’t submit our project, I saw a shadow of a smile on Shalini’s face. I felt frustrated. I felt more frustrated when I found my team mates gossipping, they weren’t worried in the least about the team’s failure. Then, Shalini whispered something into Rita’s ear, I became suspicious.

After a few minutes, Rita told me that she wanted to quit my team. I felt offended. She excused herself and quickly joined Shalini’s team. Rita looked at me. I wasn’t able to read her expression, I couldn’t figure out, if it was guilty or pity. Well, I didn’t want to figure out. I had decided that she is not my best friend anymore.

Shalini led her team with a sense of haughtiness. Her team mates had lined up behind her very obediently. A poet or a  person loves poetry would have described the scene in the words, “a shepherd leading the sheep to fresh, green pastures.” However, for a pessimist like me, the scene closely resembled to that of a butcher taking the sheep to slaughter them.

Visit my blog on May 17 for the next chapter!!!

Chapter 4

                                       CHAPTER 4

Presently, she picked the water bottle from the bag. She took it close to her mouth. When she was about to sip it, the bus jerked violently. She lost her grip over the bottle. The water in the bottle spilled on the man who was sitting in front of us and I sensed the coming of a catastrophe.

I caught my breath. The man turned to face us.His hair was drenched in water and his shirt was wet too. His close-cropped hair, his handlebar moustache and above all, his stern look made me suspect that he was a policeman. Oh! I am afraid of policemen. I twisted my engagement ring, nervously. I know I had to apologise, but I couldn't find my voice.

"I'm s-sorry", said Aadhya. Now his eyes fell upon her. His frown instantly turned into a pleasant smile. However, I heard him muttering something angrily.I guess I was right about him being a policeman.Anyway, how I can expect a man to be calm, when a bottle fully filled with water is emptied on his head?

My thoughts lingered upon the book that I am writing now-The Sinner's future. So far, I had written four books. None yielded tremendous results, but miraculously enough, I could bounce back and begin to write the next book with unfaltering hope. What is discouraging is that my publisher doesn't possess such an attitude as mine.

Many a time, he had critized my style of writing and had also bluntly suggested me to take up some another job. But, poor man, he is bound to publish all my books because he owes a lot to my father.
  

I'm glad that I'm able to focus more on my books now.When I was working as a banker, whenever I sat down to write, only the images of the huge depositors would pop up in my head.

I quitted my bank job when I was pregnant. I decided to take up writing as a profession. People thought I was insane when I forsake my job in a nationalised bank, but in my heart I knew that it was the right decision. I always felt that I was not destined for a nine to five job. Moreover, I realised that Aadhya would need me more than the higher officials in my bank.

My passion for writing can be traced back to my school days.I used to write short stories for my school magazine. One particular story became a huge hit among my friends. Gradually, even the school management began to like my stories. At one point of time, I became quite popular in my school. I kept wondering if I would ever able to measure the amount of jealousy seeping into Shalini's heart. But, one day, I came to know that I was totally wrong about Shalini's feelings.

The memory of that day still lies in my mind as fresh as a dew drop on a new blossomed flower. That day, I was sitting in the canteen on my favourite bench. I was relishing every sip of my tea, and was trying to decide whether the canteen tea better than my Mom's. These thoughts hurried themselves out of my mind  when I saw Shalini enter the canteen. She was approaching towards me. I gripped  the cup as if it was a shield. My heart was beating so fast that I thought it would burst the next moment. As she came closer, I noticed that she was twisting her lips in an awkward manner. It looked as though she couldn't decide whether to smile or not.

She sat opposite to me.

"Could you do me a favour?", she spoke in a voice little louder than a whisper.

I choked over my tea. Man, I wasn't expecting this sort of a thing from my all-time rival.

I nodded my head vigorously in response.

"I've story in my mind, can you write it for me?", she asked.

I didn't think twice. I would've said a loud, confident 'yes' if I was not gulping down my tea. I could only manage to nod my head.She was not pleased with my response.

However she continued, "I shall just tell the gist of the story today."

And she began the gist. It was difficult to concentrate; I needed more time to recover from the shock. I found it more easier to observe the beauty of her sparkling eyes and sharp features. She did look beautiful, graciously beautiful.

She left the canteen after five minutes. I couldn't help feeling guilty over the conversation. I didn't speak a word. I decided to smile a little, speak more and nod every now and then, the next time.

There was one question in  the corner of my mind, that kept troubling me all through the evening -"Why was I trying so hard to impress her, if she was only my rival?"

Poem

The Castle

Just another stone, just another stone,

I whispered in my weak, hoarse voice

I should just place another stone over the top,

to watch my castle kiss the sky.

The memory of the day when I placed the first stone lies in my heart,

as fresh as a dew drop on a leaf.

Now, here I am, nearly a year after,

weak and fragile,

having lost all my power and beauty in building the castle.

I slowly climbed the castle with all the strength I had,

to place the lost stone.

Oh! what a misfortune!

A lightning struck my big, beautiful castle.

My heart broke into pieces while I saw the castle tumble down,

My soul was at pain,

The pain felt by the nightingale that has lost its voice,

The pain felt by the king who has lost his heir,

Tears rolled down my cheeks,

blood poured out from my limbs.

I made no attempt to stop neither the tears nor the blood.

I cried and cried and cried,

over the ruins of the once huge, mighty castle

After a while, I stood up,

I took hold of a huge stone and set it firmly on the ground,

with the hope of building a castle again

Visit my blog on May 10 for the next chapter!!!

Let's do it for the Nepalese...

Every wound is healed,

every tear is wiped,

every prayer is heard

Let's pray for the Nepalese

Let's help them to rebuild Nepal

 

Chapter 3

                                    CHAPTER 3

There was one particular memory which I had buried in the deepest layers of my brain and I had resolutely decided to recollect the memory only in my deathbed. However, it was difficult to keep the memory hidden when I was thinking about our rivalry.

We were supposed to enact a skit, a simple one. Shalini was the team leader. She assigned the role of a beggar to me and I had only one scene to act. She wanted to humiliate in every possible way! The truth is, I felt less humiliated, after all, I was better than the boy who had to act as a dog! Throughout the rehearsals, the fact that Shalini has good oratory skills made me feel uneasy. I practised hard, with only motive in my mind; it was to perform better than Shalini.

Finally, the big day arrived. When my part came, I looked down at my costume for one last time and walked to the centre of the stage. My eyes nervously darted across the auditorium.I opened my mouth, but no words came. I forgot my dialogues! I started desperately digging my brain for my lines. I helplessly gaped at the audience. I was shivering all over. I heard a few catcalls. Tears welled up in my eyes. I turned back to look at my friends. All of them, even Shalini was frantically urging me to talk. I shook my head. Then, they moved on to the next scene.

I waited at the backstage. My heart was racing, my legs were shaking. Beads of sweat rolled down my face. I tried remembering my lines again, I could recollect the first lines. I buried my face in my hands. "Why 
 didn't you speak anything at all?", I asked myself. I glanced at my watch every now and then. I felt like a man who was going to be hanged next.

The skit was over. I listened to my teacher's tirade silently, with my head bent down. When I lifted my head, I saw Shalini standing in front of me. She didn't utter a word, she only frowned at me. That was enough to make me feel miserable. I took no effort to stop my tears. I stared at her with my bloodshot eyes.

I can't forget that day, the most embarrassing day of my life. The incident kept haunting me for several weeks. Now as I think back, I wish I could have been the dog, there were no dialogues for the dog, of course!

I watched Aadhya intently. She was rummaging her teddy-bear-bag. I looked at the bag with a feeling of disgust. I still don't understand what makes her go crazy over the bag. The day, when she laid her eyes upon the bag, she was so adamant on buying the bag. I didn't find anything impressive about the bag. It was small, very ordinary-looking bag and really costly. So, I simply refused to buy it, but offered to buy another bag, but she was persistent. She had eyes only for that bag. She kept pleading and then began weeping. Within  few seconds, all the people in the shop became spectators to the mother-making-her child-cry-scene. My cheeks turned pink, then turned to a deep shade of magenta. Finally, I gave in. Nevertheless, I made her promise that she won't ask for a toy for next six months.

Later, I told the teddy bear bag story to my mother. My mother, in a severe tone, offered lectures on 'how to be a good child' to Aadhya for nearly an hour. I felt some kind of unusual joy on seeing Aadhya's head bent so low. However, that sense of joy was short-lived. Once Aadhya was out of earshot, my mother very rudely pointed out that when I was a small child, I had done the same thing which Aadhya had done. Well, but there seemed to be no trace of such a memory in my brain. I tried hard to recollect if I ever had a teddy bear bag. In fact, I never had a liking for teddy bears, really.

However, I must confess that there is something mysterious about these childhood mischief, they happen to vanish once we enter into adulthood.

Want to read Chapter 4?

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There is a heart-touching poem waiting for you in my next post

Don't miss it!!!

Chapter 2

                                     CHAPTER 2

The flow of my memories was somewhat disturbed by the loud snoring of the old woman who was sitting next to me.I looked through the window. The vehicles were speeding against each other.Contrary to the vehicles, I felt myself travelling down the memory lane slowly, very slowly.

One very funny incident happened when we were in class 3. However, it was so silly that, even Aadhya only frowned when  I once narrated the incident to her.

We were getting ready for the class photo. To my misfortune, I was made to sit beside Shalini. She started lamenting about unlucky she was to sit next to me. Our teacher thought that it was me who had been talking and so, she yelled at me. I became furious. Shalini seemed to be extremely overjoyed and satisfied. A crooked smile spread across her face. Man, she was infuriating. I decided to seek revenge. I quickly untied her ribbon, just  seconds before the photo was taken. A sense of triumph swept over me after accomplishing the feat. After all, revenge is sweet!

I roared with laughter when I saw the photo the first time. With her eyes bulged out, her mouth slightly ajar and her ribbon dangling, she looked so comical.

I can't help giggling, every time I see the photo. It was one of the unforgettable experiences of my childhood.

"Mom, what are we having for supper?", asked Aadhya.

Well, I should give her credit for one thing -she knows how to irritate me, the best. My mind wandered over today's supper. I reminded myself to buy vegetables on the way back home. Then, I wondered whether I had boiled the milk or not. Oh God! If I had not boiled it, it would have got spoilt by now, I thought. Suddenly, I became tensed, as these thoughts ran into my head.

"Mom, please tell me ", she urged on.

"Don't irritate me. You'll certainly know that at night time", I snapped

Want to read  chapter 3?
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Something really exciting is waiting for you in chapter 3!!!

A letter to the readers

Dear readers,

April 15 was one of the most special days of my life, it was the day I created my blog. You all made the day even more special to me.

My heart is brimming with gratitude for the past one week. First of all, I thank God for making it happen. My sincere thanks to those who spent their precious time to read my story. You made feel important, that's one of the best things you can do to a person. Special thanks to my good friends Harshini and Sudheeksha. They were the first to post their comments.Their comments were encouraging.

Also, I would like to thank people who left my blog when they were half way through the story. You make me reflect upon the truth that I am not any good at writing stories. I want to convey my gratitude, by any means, to those who have not taken the slightest effort to visit my blog.They make try harder.

Before I started the blog, there were very few people to read my stupid stories, but so far 17 people have read the first post (chapter 1). I feel extremely delighted, indeed. For others, 17 is only a number, but you all know how that 17 means everything to me.

I have a small request. Please post your comments or suggestions either on google+ or in my blog, because your comments are very special to me.

Every word in this letter is heart-felt. Once again I thank you, for being there when I wanted you the most

Yours friendly,

L.Miraa

Chapter-1

          Readers, Welcome to Dogs Can Write Blog!

ABOUT THE BLOG

I would never have created a blog, if my brother had not suggested to do so. This blog is a result of my passion for writing stories. When I was younger, I had a strong desire to get my stories publshed ( though I've not been able to complete even a single story.) However, later when I grew up, I realized how difficult it is to get something published. So, I decided to post my stories on the blog. Of course, I don't promise the best stories, however I would feel extremely obliged to you, if you can spare a little time to read my story. I would like to thank my parents, my bro and my friends for encouraging me. I owe a lot to my bro, he has been my inspiration for reading books.( he reads books much fatter than R.D.Sharma!)

ABOUT THE BLOG NAME

Since I am a dog lover, I strongly believe that dogs can write when they are supplied with good pens and a bunch of paper.When dogs can write, humans must read! So, next time you see a street dog, don't shoo it away. Don't underestimate the power of a street dog!

Here comes the story...

                                    THE RIVALS

 "Aadhya, I already told you that we are going to Trichy to meet my friend", I said.

"But Mom, you promised that you would take me to the Vandalur Zoo", said Aadhya.

"Oh! I can see how eager you are to meet your friends out there".

"This is not funny, Mom"

Well, however, I found that funny and started laughing loudly. My laughter grew when I saw the troubled expression on her face. But I suddenly stopped, I realized that many people in the bus were already staring at me. I felt little embarassed.

However, embarassment was replaced by my nostalgic feelings about the Vandalur Zoo. After all, everything had begun there...

It happened around thirty years ago.I was in class2, our school took us to the Vandular Zoo. Only few weeks had passed since I had joined the school, so I was more excited  about the trip than the others were.

We were asked to walk in pairs. Shalini was my partner. We all were so much amazed to see the different kinds of animals.

Suddenly, Shalini cried,"Hey! look, a chimpanze".

"Oh! Shalini, that's not a chimpanze, that's a an oranguttan", I said
"No way, Anjali. It's a chimpanze. Come, let's ask the teacher".

"Of course, it's an oranguttan", said the teacher.

I grinned at Shalini. Obivously, she got irritated.

"Not bad, Anjali. I thought you were an air-head", she said.

"Well, I thought you were a chimpanze", I snapped.

"Shut up, or I'll-

"What's the matter with both of you", yelled the teacher.Later, she changed our partners. But that did not stop Shalini from glaring at me every now and then.

That's when our rivalry began.

Back then, little did I know that the girl who could not differentiate between a chimpanze and an oranguttan,

would do M.Sc in Zoology.

Hey! Friends, Want to know what happened next?

Visit my blog on the coming Sunday, April 19 to read chapter 2

Thank you!

Bye, take care!