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