The TimePass of India

Short Story

"Heyyyy! Long time... What are you doing here?" Rajani yelled from across the shop. Arranged!

"I wanted to say... say... yes..." Short story: Someone up there had a plan...

The African Luna Butterfly lives only for a day. In that day, she finds time to eat, sleep, drink and mate! The butterfly story...

Firstly, sorry for my absence from the blogworld. It has been a hectic time for me. Sleep deprivation has been rampant. In this cold, going to take a bath has been like going to war. Times flies here, yet, at the end of the day if you ask me - aaj kya kiya? I would be at loss of words. These are my last days at MDI, before I leave for Germany so I want to enjoy these days fully. Will let you know more about these adventures.

Anyway, my friends have been wanting me to write a romantic story, so here goes. For all you people out there...

Note: I am deviating from the usual love stories and entering into a much serious domain. Hope I do justice to the story.

Short Story

It was quite a time to be born... India was being born, breaking the shackles of 150 years of British rule. Marigold : A short story

Short story.

They lay on the terrace floor, watching the skies darken with rain-laden dark clouds. The Sun had been on a vacation since the last few days, the clouds had taken over.

"Why does it rain?" She asked, looking at the dark brown evening sky, which was darkening by the minute.
"You see, the south-west monsoon winds bring in water vapour from the Arabian Sea, it condenses.."
"You are such an engineer re," she cut him in between.

The thing with girls is, that they expect us to know when to be scientific and when to be romantic. He kept quiet, thinking what to say. The soft din of the vehicles on the road below filled up the silence. The problem with living in the city is, you never get to experience complete silence.

"He loves her," he says out of the blue.
"huh?"
"You asked me why it rains, didnt you? It rains coz he loves her."
"He?"

"The cloud. He loves the earth."
"Oh. But then, where was he till now? I mean, why didnt it rain in the summer?" she asks innocently.
"He was always there. He was here since the earth was here. In fact, the earth was made because of him. The earth gave us life, but the cloud gave her life. And for that, she loves him. At the end of monsoon he leaves her for the cycle of life to continue, that is why you dont find him here in the winter and the summer."
"Ah.. I see."

The wind starts blowing, starts playing with her hair. She tries to fight the wind, unsuccessfully.

"When the cloud comes to meet the earth, he roars with happiness. Hence the lightening. And when he reaches her, he showers her with love. Hence the rain."
"Hmm. I get it."

She keeps looking at the darkening clouds, which have now started roaring. Then she looks at him, into his eyes and says -
"You know what I love?"
"What?" He asks with a hoarse voice, a voice which is expectant.
She smiles mischievously.
"I love the smell of soil when it rains."

He relaxes again, knowing he is not going to hear his name in any sentence related to love yet.
"I love it too," he says. "But I love something else too," he says looking at her.

She avoids his gaze, tries to fill up the awkward silence with words...fails miserably.

"Why does he have to leave her?" She asks.
"Told you na, it's the cycle of life. That time spent without each other, strengthen their love for each other."
"I don't know. I don't want them to separate."She almost starts to cry.
"You would want rain all through the year?"
She remains quiet.
"Do you realise you will never be able to smell the first rains again? There might never be a first rain in the first place."

She keeps staring at the dark clouds which fill up the whole sky. The lightening flashes every now and then, illuminating her face, making her look prettier than she already is.

"Do you have to go then?" She asks in a voice that tells you shes having a tough time holding herself together.
"I am afraid I have to. I will be back before you know it."
"I will be waiting."

She places her head on his chest. He has the world. Her tears cant be held back. The skies crack up.
It starts to rain.



PS- I will be leaving Mumbai in 4 days to pursue my MBA.
It is pouring outside, as I write this.
Please listen to this song, as you read the post. It gives you a heady feeling. Why does it rain?

Short story


Back in the 9th grade, asking a girl out for a movie was a big deal.. Since the advent of puberty, your voice had already started to crack.. It cracked even more when you had to ask that cute girl out for a movie.. Now this is 1999 I am talking about.. It wasnt easy to get the girl u like to go out with you then,..... to be honest, its still difficult..

So you knew this cute girl, long hair, lovely eyes you could lose yourself in, got dimples everytime she smiled.. So if you wanted to ask her out for a movie, the conversation with her would go something like this -
"umm.. did you watch that movie - Dil Se?"
Note that SRK was her favourite actor, so it made sense to mention his movie, even though you thought the movie was a dud and you better spend the evening watching Undertaker wrestle Bam-bam-Bigalo..
"not yet"
"oh.. would you.. I mean.. like to"(the voice cracks up here) "I mean.. watch it with me..er.. this Sunday.."
She suddenly realises that hes asking her out.. she turns on her girlie radar, which essentially means shes gonna act full bhavkhao..
"umm.. I dont know.. My dad wont allow..you know.. alone.."

They should put them in jail for that..

You wanna ask, how can we be alone if we are together.. But you dont..

"Oh.. but we are not going alone..Your friends are coming too" An obvious lie.. But good thinking nevertheless..
"Who all?"
Think of names.. names..
"Suchitra, and Rajesh.. and Prajakta and..." You name 5-6 names that you know are her friends..
"thats good, I think I can ask my dad then.."
Whoopieee...

What follows next is trying to convince the 6 friends of her(whose names you mentioned) to come with you.. You lure them with free popcorn (kamine kahin ke) and they finally agree.

Then comes the booking of tickets.. Note that this is the time when there was no online booking.. So you had to stand in a long queue to get the advance booking.. You manage to get 8 tickets.. You take great care to ensure that two out of them are corner seats..
"Uncle corner seats diya na?"
"Haan yaar.."
You hear him telling the next in line - "Aaj-kal bacche bhi corner seat maangte hain" hehehe..

Finally Sunday arrives.. You get up early(which you usually dont), take a bath(which you usually do), apply half a bottle of perfume and reach the theatre..

She comes on time, but with her Dad in tow. Her dad drives his Maruti 800(we had only Maruti and Fiat back then) in through the theatre parking and almost runs you down.. Now these dads are the villainous types.. The problem is they had been teenagers once and know exactly what dirty things go on in the scum brain of the testosterone driven monster who asked his daughter out..

Her dad steps out of the door of the car and slams it.. These dad types work as managers in a MNC usually, and wear a tie to work, but when it comes to meeting his daughters male friend, he wears the unshaven look and lungi..
"Pappa, hes my friend, Abhi"
You look at pretty her, then look at her Dad.. And you wonder, how could someone like him make something this beautiful..
"Halla"
"Hello sir.."
Women enjoy this.. They want you to meet their dads.. Its their way of saying - "See, this man is my favourite person in the world, and if you can stand up to him, only then you have a chance with me.."

They should put them in jail for that..

You enter the hall, you make sure that you get the corner seats for yourself..You buy enough popcorn for her friends to be occupied... The lights dim.. Vicco Vajradanti ad plays.. The movie starts.. SRK starts jumping on a train.. Chal Chaiyaan Chaiyaan.. You are least interested in the song or in the movie for that matter.. You are interested in the cute girl sitting next to you.. You want to hold her hand.. no, not hold, just touch initially..

Clouds of nervousness loom over you, your palms become sweaty.. you wipe them on the thigh your jeans.. then all of a sudden, in a moment of gutsy drive, you touch her hand..

She pulls it back, almost like a reflex, then looks at you with wide eyes and a smile playing on her lips.. like shes amused, and she didnt expect you to do something like that.. Even in that dark hall, her eyes twinkle..

They should put them in jail for that..

The movie ends, you saw the movie only in bits and pieces, still it will be one of the best remembered movies of your life.. You start walking out of the dimly lit hall into the dimly lit parking.. When all her friends have left, she stands on her toes to reach your ear and whispers "thank you".. It will be ages before you understand the meaning...




Its 2009 and a lotta things have changed.. There are no single theatres now, Maruti has stopped manufacturing 800, popcorn is costlier than what was the ticket those days, even SRK sometimes comes up with meaningful cinema, but one thing hasnt changed, its still damn difficult to ask her out..

"Wanna..er.. watch a movie on Sunday?"
"Lemme see if I am free"
There she goes again..
"Oh comeon"
"hehe.. okay, which one?"
"How does it matter? hahaha"
It takes her a full two minutes to understand the joke behind that one...

She lands 4-5 playful punches, out of which two hurt..

Anyway, the movie starts.. Now that you are 23, you think it must get easier for you.. But it doesnt!..

You still get all nervous, your palms become sweaty.. It is still needs a lotta planning to put your arm across her shoulder.. You touch her hand.. this time she doesnt pull it away.. But she still gives that amused-mischievous look...Like after all these years she still doesnt expect you to hold her hand..

They should put them in jail for that...

The movie ends and the credits start rolling. You leave the hall with her.. You two walk through the huge driveway, sparsely crowded at this time of the night.. She walks closer to you than she normally does.. She holds your hand.. Theres something amazing bout that touch.. It seems to say that she trusts you and has complete faith in you... And it says that she knows you will keep her happy..

Her touch makes you feel strong.. responsible.. pure.. loved.. all at the same time.. as she walks close to you, holding your arm, she rests her head on your shoulder.. And you have the world..

"Thank you"... is all you can whisper in her ear..

She looks at you...smiles.. her eyes swell up with love... a drop finds its way to her cheek..

They should put them in jail for that... They should put them in jail for that..

Finally.. Finally an award.. Finally someone recognised my literary genius and decided to award one of my blogposts and the best blog of 2008!

Now I never got an award.. Except the science quiz award in the 7th and the 9th grade. My friends still wonder how I got it since I was one of those guys who thought H2O was a Pub in South Mumbai.. When I got older, I realised H2O is the formula for water. Then I came across H2O2, logic suggested that if H2O is water then H2O2 must be cold water or ice water (btw, its hydrogen peroxide and its got nothing to do with water, warm, cold or otherwise).

Coming back to awards, so I was your regular kinda guy, not many knew my name, especially guys.. They had no idea who I was and what I was doing in their class..

The pretty girls however knew my name, my surname, the colour of my underwear, the pizza toppings I liked the most and stuff like that.. You cant blame them, with my Greek-God like looks and a body which would make Hrithik Roshan seem unfit(you feel an incredible urge to check my orkut profile, dont you?) its only fair that they fell for me!

So where was I? Yeah, the award. I would like to thank my mom, my dad, my sister, cousins and their cousins, my readers(which mostly comprises of my cousins), my net provider mtnl, Mseb, Emran Hashmi and KJo.. thank you all for the inspiration and stuff.. sob* gonna cry..

Jokes apart, Chriz has been one of my first blog mates. I think we started out together, we are almost the same age in blogosphere. The name Chronicwriter fits him perfectly, he writes more posts in one month than I do in 12 months!! The quality of his funny posts is amazing. His popularity can be gauged by the fact that he has over 50 followers on his blog and has more than 1 lakh hits!!



Thank you chriz for this award!
And I also thank my readers whose comments, praise and criticism I highly value. I wouldnt have reached here hadnt it been for you guys!
Cheers! The best blog of 2008..!

Short story

She joined school after the first midterm in the 8th grade.. Public schools are pretty strict when it comes to joining school on time. Her dad must a big shot, Rahul thought..

She was cute, petite, had short shoulder length hair.. She was confident, very sure of herself...

The class teacher introduced her as Kritika Rajan.. Kritika gave a friendly smile..

Rahul noticed her cute dimples.. Now Rahul wasnt a dimples guy.. never was.. But he couldnt stop staring at her as she smiled. Rahul was the tallest guy in the class, so he always took the last bench, Kritika took the third bench. Good for him, coz he could steal a glance or two everytime she smiled and those dimples flashed..

She had asked Rahul for his Geometry notes.. Apparently, Rahul's teachers had high regard for the guy, they had suggested Kritika to get his notes to cover up for all the portion she had missed the last semester.. Rahul was obviously too happy to help...
She came fuming to Rahul the next day...
"I dont get your handwriting.."
"Arre, samjha woh likh.. baki drawing nikal! hehawhaw"
"Shut up.."
Clearly, it was not the right time..
"Okay, what didnt u get?"
"This word - 'cle' Whats tht?"
"cle- cle means 'circle'!!Thats called Rahul shorthand!!" Rahul shrugged..
"Ooookay.. whats 'rle'?"
"Rectangle!"
"Oh.. and 'tle' is er.. triangle?"
"Way to go girl.."
"Oh.. hmm.. hey, can u please wait after school to help me understand more of your shorthand? Please! Pretty please!"
Now how could anyone say no to that!!

That evening, among congruent and similar triangles, she opened up to him.. She talked bout her favourite movies, the sitcoms she watched, how much she loved Tv and why..

Rahul never met her father, but was pretty sure she was her father's daughter.. She was honest, strong willed, tough..
Her dad was a high court judge, and now was on the special bench for political cases. He must be an honest guy.. They dont transfer someone at a post that high that often.. Kritika later told him that she had changed 5 schools in the last 7 years. She had stayed in Nagpur, Aurangabad, Solapur, Pune and now mumbai.. she hadnt spent more than 2 years at any one place. She had very few friends, most of them in Pune, where her dad was last placed.



There was this place behind the school building.. It was like a very small playground, with a single swing, a slide, an incredibly small see-saw and a cement bench, for the teacher to sit and govern the pre-primary kids... He had seen the kids play there in the small sandy place. It seemed big when he saw them kids play there, but now that Rahul was sitting there waiting for her, the place seemed too small.. kinda cosy..

She came, she wore a pink sweater.. weird are these ppl who come from Pune.. After the freezing cold of Pune, they still find the need to wear sweaters in Mumbai! But then, Rahul didnt mind, she looked hot in that pink sweater..

"You have cute dimples.."
"What?"
"Your dimples.. they are cute.."
Its weird how a girl who is that tough around others melts when shes around someone she likes..
"No they are not..", she tried to look away, trying to suppress a blush..
"Yes they are.."
"Noooo", the more she tried not to, the more she blushed..
"Yes they are.."
"No, they arent.."
"Yes they are"

The Judge's daughter she was..., she liked winning arguments, but she liked him too..., she could let him win this one...


Back in school they behaved like total strangers.. Ofcourse there was a glance here and a wink there.. but they made sure not to come within 1 metre of each other.. The fact that no one knew about them made it more thrilling!

They started meeting every evening behind the school after school..
She always wore that pink sweater, now, even more coz she knew Rahul liked it on her..
"You got nice hair.. and pretty eyes.."
Its weird how naive these 8th grade boys are! No creativity they got I tell you..
"Nooo.. No one has told me that before.."
"Well, I am telling you now.."
"No, they arent that pretty.."
"Yes they are.."
"No"
"Yes"

The Judge's daughter she was..., she liked winning arguments, but she liked him too..., she could let him win this one...


December days get kinda chilly, even in Mumbai.. That day it was a bit chilly.. Even Rahul wore a sweater to school that day.. he normally thought he was too cool to wear one! He looked at Kritika who was sitting on the third bench.. she looked lovely as ever..

He kept looking at her throughout the Geometry and Science class.. Restlessness grew within him as last lecture of the day was approaching.. He wanted to be alone with her.. Talk bout stuff.. bout what he loved.. his fears.. his dreams...

The bell rang.. After everyone had left the school, he went to the playground at the back of the building..
She was sitting there.. The golden sun rays of the evening sun were falling on her face.. her dark hair looked golden brown in the sunlight.. It was very cold, she was wearing her pink sweater.. He could stand there looking at her all his life..

She looked at him.. Something wasnt right.. or so it seemed..
He sat beside her..

"Whats wrong.."
"My dad’s getting transferred.."
"Again?"
"Yep..This is my last week in the school.. My dad will be transferred to Nagpur"

She was taking it amazingly well..

"What? But it has been only three months!"
"Oh.. I know"
"You wont miss me?"
"No, why?."

This was weird.. didn’t she feel anything for him..

"Not even a little?"
"Umm.. a little.. maybe.."
He saw a mischievous twinkle in her eyes..

"You liar.. You not going anywhere, are you.."
"I sooo got you there..haha"
"Stop laughing meano.."
"Nahi re, my dad is getting transferred.. But I am staying with my Grandmom.. "
"I m not even talking to you.."
"Aaww, I am so sorry re.. sorry sorry sorry.. "

She must have said sorry bout 9 times.. And there must be guys reading this thinking that it doesn’t make things better.. but trust me, it does..

Rahul’s heart melted..

Its not fair.. Men were made taller and stronger.. Men fight, eat with their hands, drink from the carton.. What was bout these girls that made men all soft inside.. damn..

"Not fair..You cant do it to me.. I like you"

It was the first time he said that to her. Both of them knew it, but it was the first time he said it to her..

"I like you too.. more than you like me.. "
"No, I like you more.."
"No, I like you more.. "
"Nope, I do.."

The Judge's daughter she was..., she liked winning arguments, but she liked him too..., she could let him win this one...

She smiled, Rahul’s heart melted. He had won the argument.. But something he lost.. And he was not sure what..

She held his arm close to her and placed her head gently on his shoulders…

Last time I saw them, they were just 14 year olds, with dreams in their eyes.. and maybe.. one day... they got married...., and had kids and yes..., like all good stories go.. They lived happily ever after...


________________________________________________________
I am a sucker for happy endings.. Something didnt seem right in the last story. So I changed the ending..Happy New Year Guys..:)
The Judge's daughter

Update: This blog is the winner of The Chronicwriter Best Blog of the Year award 2008



Short story

I dont like waking up early..Not one bit...Just like Obama doesnt like Osama inspite of having such similar sounding names..
I dont like early morning calls on my cell.. Not even on my birthday.. Well 8 in the morning is not exactly early morning, but what the heck!
Anyone who has been my friend knows this.. All my bday wishes start pouring in only after 10 am..

We gonna have a party..turn the music up..
lets get it started..go ahead n move your butt..

I hate my ringtone.. I mean Eminem's Shake that is good all day long, but early morning even he sucks.. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the caller id.. I looked at the watch.. 8 am in the morning..Who could be calling me at this unearthly hour..

Raka calling..







That sent my thoughts running..
Raka is the name I gave to Rakesh. Rakesh was in my college.. I hated him the first day I met him.. He was very in-your-face.. too bubbly if you may call a guy that.. His youthfulness pissed me off.. He would always be chirpy, even in the mornings...every 9am lecture he and the professor would be the only two guys awake in the classroom.. I soo hate early mornings.. More than that I hate morning people

We had different groups, his group was the nerdy one, mine was the influential one..I guess we became friends when my group had a fight with his group.. Like most fights I have no idea of the reason why we were fighting.. It wasnt like a fist fight, but I almost punched him in the face..

He was quite a character this guy Rakesh.. At 6'2" he was the only guy taller than me in the group.. He was what girls like to call tall, dark and handsome..He had this devilish smile which apparently was cute to girls..He was quite the smooth talker and would have girls falling for him wherever he went..the lucky devil.. Hence the name Raka.. Rakesh is too somber for such a character..

There were times when I was jealous of him sure, even after we became best friends.. but thankfully he went after the girls who I considered outta my league.. There was this girl who both of us liked.. When he got to know that he stepped aside.. He actually helped me write poetry (since I am emotionally retarded) for her. I consulted him bout what gifts a girl likes to receive and stuff.. I wanted to gift her an Xbox.. Raka suggested a pair of earrings..(yeah.. tht sounds better)

He had a heart of gold.. He would do anything for a friend.. Hes the one you want to be around if you get in deep shit in life ever...Raka was always up for some masti.. He did spend a small fortune on his friends everytime someone from our group topped an exam or something..Rich dad he must have I thought..lucky devil saala..

There were 6 guys and 3 girls in our group.. He knew each of our birthdays byheart. He was the first to wish me birthday every year, year after year.... Used to wake me up at 8 in the morning on my bday.. devil saala..

"Why do u have to wish me tht early..??"
"Cant wait yaar..Its like a habit..I gotta be the first one to wish you.."
"You have to change tht habit mate.."
"You know wht they say, old habits die hard.. Some habits dont change even after you go.."
"Go where? to the loo?"
"Yeah..... idiot...."


He was also the first to ask for bday treats.. I dont know how he remembered all those dates.. Even today if you ask me Rakesh's bday, I wont be too sure.. I know its in June or was it July? Btw, the girls got a return bday present from him, the guys didnt.. devil salaa..

Around the 3rd year of college, I noticed he was gaining weight..not the kind you gain on the holiday.. He was losing hair too.. He used to miss a lot of classes..
He seemed sick.. and it seemed chronic.. I did confront him.. I wanted to know what was wrong with him and why was he not attending the lectures...But then he would flash a smile and say something hilariously stupid and that would seal the topic for then..

Around the 6th semester he stopped coming to college all together..He wouldnt answer my calls, wouldnt reply to my messages..

One of our classmates used to stay near Rakas house, we got the address from her, and showed up at his house uninformed.. His mom opened the door..

Aunty, Raka home?
Raka?
Er..I mean Rakesh.. I am his college friend..
Oh.. Hes not here.. He is in the hospital..
Why? He sick? viral fever kya?

Tears swelled up her eyes..

I had known Raka for 3 years.. For more than 2 and a half years he had been my best friend.. But not once.. not even one time did he mention he was touched by cancer..

He had been undergoing chemotherapy for the last few months.. And he never told me.. devil saala..

Men have a weird way of showing hurt.. I didnt go to meet him in the hospital.. Everyone from my group and my class went.. His best friend in class didnt..

Then one day he called.. "Kya saale aaj kal milta nahi.."
They say grown men dont cry.. They were damn right.. I didnt cry.. neither did he..

I did go and meet him that afternoon.. 3 days later he left us... Everyone in our class cried...I didnt..

Its been 6 months since he left us.. I miss him sometimes.. But I dont cry..








My string of thoughts was broken by my mom- Your phone is ringing beta..Answer your phone..

I looked at my cell..

Raka calling...

Hel-Hello..
Hello beta.. This is Rakesh's mother calling..
Ah..hello Aunty..
Many happy returns of the day, beta..
Er.. thank you aunty, but.. but.. how did you know?
Oh..Rakesh had set an alarm on his cell for your birthday..So I called you on his behalf..

Tears ran down my cheeks..
Hes gone, but he was still the first one to call me on my birthday.. devil saala..


P.S. - Inspired from a true story. Rakesh was a friend of a friend..
Rest In Peace mate.. Raka calling...