Thursday, December 24, 2015

A Little Thought on Apology

What is apology? Acknowledging a mistake? 
A lapse happens. We apologize. It's over.
Is there a take-away from this? Yes, we will ensure that the mistake doesn't happen again.

Now, picture this. We have done something, which from our perspective might have seemed right but ended up hurting someone. What do we in that case? Sometimes we sit on our high horse and insist that it wasn't our intention to hurt. Sometimes we give in. We say "Hey, I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to hurt you. Please don't be mad at me."

Why do we do this? Is this a lie? No, it isn't. It comes out of honesty. We do this because of the kind of a relationship we share with the person. We do this because of the immense respect, care and concern we have for the person. We want to remain close to this person's heart all the time. Mind you, I am talking about all kinds of relationships here.

Every time some one has a fall, be it a stranger, don't we check on the person, as a reflex? We do this just to provide a moment of comfort for a person who is shaken. An apology is just that. When we do this to strangers on the road, can't we do it to for those who care for us and those we care for?

Most of us human beings are blessed with this thing called INTUITION. Let's use it. Not many people are going to tell you they are hurt. The silent reaction could vary from going off into a shell right up to suicide. (Sorry I don't mean to sound morbid but that's reality.) But if we use intuition, we can sense hurt. At the same time, I know it is not easy to look in the eye and say "Hey buddy, I'm sorry." It takes a lot of courage. If you want to say sorry but don't know how to do it, don't worry. Here's where intuition comes to play again. Try eye-contact or hold the person's hand quietly or just hover around the person, . The hurt friend will intuitively understand what you are up to and forgive you. Believe me, it works. 

What can the act of forgiving do to a person that is hurt? It is not about ego. It is a way of healing themselves. It is a way of reassuring themselves about the strength of their relationship with you. Indirectly, regaining their own strength and personal conviction.

While doing all this, let us not forget that the learning after an apology is not temporary but permanent. Never, ever to hurt the person again. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~

PS: Personally speaking, I don't remember holding grudges against ANYONE all my life. There have been countless instances when I have apologized for no obvious fault of mine at all. I'm quite shameless that way! Similarly, if I sense even a whiff of remorse, trust me, I have their back-for a lifetime. 


 

Monday, December 14, 2015

Memes I Make

  • For the love of DDLJ and the scorn of shameful behaviour


  • After the Chennai floods Dec 2015

  • #100SareePact

  • http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3129366/I-ve-left-half-Spurned-boyfriend-chops-owns-two-splitting-girlfriend-including-car-TV-iPhone.html

  • For the love of MMKR! (My favorite meme)


  • For the love of music - any kind.



  • When I am really happy to see someone! (or when I want to be sarcastic about it :P)


  • Run for your life!


  • More of MMKR dedicated to Whatsapp Groups




Chennai Airport After the Rains


Thursday, November 26, 2015

Instant Karma x 2

I am on my bike, getting back home. Satyam Cinemas lane. (One-way lane)
This guy is crossing the road a few meters away from me, from my right.
As he is crossing the road slowly, he has completely turned his heard left and is busy staring at me. I'm irritated. He won't look away.

Enter: stern-looking uncle on a scooter. The uncle is speeding on the opposite side of the road, toward me (on the wrong side). Our chap (henceforth called the 'starer') has forgotten all rules of crossing while he busy staring. The uncle who is now really close to the starer applies a sudden brake and his scooter touches the starer's knees. At the impact, the tea that the starer is holding in his right hand, completely spills all over uncle's black shiny shirt.

Uncle freezes. Starer freezes. I slow down. Uncle raises his hand towards the starer. I wait to cross a few meters from where I am, to burst out laughing.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Weather I like it or not


Courtesy: http://themetapicture.com/reflection/

A week of unstoppable rain. Four days of house arrest.

Anyone who knows even a little of me knows how much of a romantic I am.

And yes, true to the cult of romantics, I love the rains. I always have. But for the first time in my life, I almost wanted it to stop. Perhaps personal and professional pressures have mounted up just like the laundry pile sitting in the corner of the room. Look! A shirt sleeve menacingly juts out of the filled-beyond-capacity laundry basket. If you've watched at least one horror movie, you'll know what I mean.

If all I had to do was to sit by the balcony and stare at the rain, I would have loved the rain and would have been so much in love--with no one in particular. (We romantics never need a real person to be in love with, okay sometimes.) I now get to visit the balcony only to pull out the half-dried clothes and to pull away the junior dreamer, muttering fear-inducing words like cold-fever-doctor-injection.

I would have loved the rains if I had someone supply me with hot snacks and tea. Forget dancing in the rain. The only water I came into contact happened to be freezing cold soap-water. The only things that blossomed in the monsoon were the callouses on my palms with all the dish washing.

Oh, all that kitchen work and the baby-sitting made the weather even more gloomy. So I yearned for and earned my TV time. The family was nice enough to hand me over the remote. So I plonked in front of the TV, rubbing my palms in eager anticipation of a cheesy rom-com or some classic. But TATA SKY did not think that way. It just sternly asked me to wait till the rains stopped (in 3 clear bullet points). Ah! Now I understood the family's generosity with the remote. Hmph! Not one to give up so easily, I sulked and pouted. The untouched DVD collection was raided. The Malayalam classic Balayasakhi was fished out. A sordid formula: Kolkata rains + Kerala rains + 1 broken leg + 2 broken hearts. Even Mammoty's handsome face couldn't save me from drowning into further depths of grey. (The leading lady was so wooden that they could have made an entire prosthetic limb for the handicapped protagonist using just her face.)

I then crawled to the book that I've been trying to finish reading for almost a year now. Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul. Suddenly his huzun (loosely meaning melancholy, a word I had begun to love) made me whimper.

I politely shut the book and turned to the window only to see a 3-feet deep wading pool on the road - I shut the window with not-so polite words.

I don't know what the weather's got to do with nostalgic trips. This time I had an entire odyssey by itself. Thankfully, I did distract myself with work. And quite a productive distraction it turned out to be, as long as it lasted.

Make hay when the sun shines is one thing. But the motto of the anti-ruling party TV Channels seemed to be 'sow seeds when the clouds burst'. And the TV Channels run by the ruling party pretended as if it were all fun and sunshine (pun intended). However, talking about TV news, I firmly believe that what happens at home should stay at home. It felt terrible to see Chennai and its admin 'lords' being ripped apart on National TV, especially hurtful when it was done by a charming home-grown boy on CNN-IBN.

The lightning, thunder. The noise of the winds. The drone of the mind-chatter in the silence of power-cuts. My rebelling hormones. Flooding everywhere. People living in danger. Cumulative effect of the cumulonimbus, haven't slept well in days. Greydarkgloom.

Day 4, I woke up to see a few rays of sunlight sneaking their way in. Water-droplets on the balcony grill gleamed brilliantly, cheering the sun, as it were. Dear friends from other towns sent me sunshine in jpeg format. The stagnating water outside my house started receding. The romantic in me slowly stretched, yawned and opened her eyes lazily.

Though romance and routine don't get along very well, I have come to agree that there is indeed some comfort in routine. The house-helps are back. I am back at work. The ear worm has finally wriggled out. I now look forward to only two more sounds - the chime of the school-bell and the whir of my beloved scooter. And perhaps a little pitter-patter?

Courtesy: http://i.imgur.com/jZqlp.jpg




Saturday, November 07, 2015

She would have preferred her father to say that




Happened to read this article a couple of mornings ago. I'm still feeling rather disturbed.


It is the story of a 19-year-old girl who decided to marry her 21-year-old companion from another community. Her father who apparently didn't agree to this relationship filed a criminal case against the boy, alleging that the boy had not only kidnapped the girl but had also lied about his age. At the end of the hearing, the courts told the girl that she could go ahead and chose her life partner.

Let me make it clear right at the beginning that I am not saying 19 and 21 is the best age to get married. Let's talk about marriageable age some other time.

My point is this. In the times that we live in, forward thinking and liberal views are just a dream. A dream that comes true perhaps only for a minuscule percentage of Indians. A majority of us (not just women) still go by what others tell them to do, especially in matters like when to marry, whom to marry, how many children to have and when, what occupations to choose...

Isn't it sad? Two people fall in love and want to get married. The couple should not be waiting for a court order but just a kind word from elders in the family. They should seek blessings but not police protection (just look at the line-up of cops in the disturbing photograph!). Ideally, a responsible father would tell her daughter that he trusts her and will support her decisions. He might want to suggest that she should wait till she graduates. And the daughter should be able to trust the father enough to wait. Isn't that a lot easier than going to the courts?

I hear that today, it has become a 'trend' to go to the courts alleging kidnap when the case is actually marriage with consent. Who is to make up for all the loss of time, money and effort wasted in settling such issues? And given a chance, we all only love to throw darts at the judicial system in this country.

Now what happens after this court order?
The couple might go ahead and 'live happily ever after'. But what about the scars?
Will the family ever patch up?
Will the family desist from further tying to separate the lovers? Don't tell me we haven't heard such stories before (the girl having to lose both her father and husband as well in the battle).

I want to know. Isn't peace the main goal of every human being? Why is it so difficult to live and let live? What is that ONE THING we need to change in our lives? Where do we start? 

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Aamani Paadave Haayiga



Remembered this glorious song today.

Ilayaraja and SPB at their soothing best.

The Lyrics: Though I've always known the lyrics by heart, I never took the effort to understand these beautiful lyrics. I have always found certain Telugu songs difficult to understand. Need to brush up my Telugu. Oh! How I love the language.

Here are the lyrics and the translation.

The flute: You can't miss the flute in this song. And if you notice, the flute speaks lovely Telugu too (must have been Arulmozhi).

The Tamil Version: With due respect to Ilayaraja and Mano, can't help but remember the rather unfortunate rendering of this song in Tamil. Just didn't sound right.






Thursday, August 20, 2015

An Unnecessary Distraction

It was the last thing she wanted to hear. After so many years of friendship that blossomed into love. After so many moments of togetherness and joy. After so many promises, she definitely didn't expect him to say, "You are just an unnecessary distraction in my life. I think you should leave me alone now."

She first thought she'd heard it wrong, till he repeated the words, just like how sometimes, a logger has to strike twice to cut through a strong, old tree. She still wasn't willing to give up. "But what makes you think that way...now, after all this while? Is there something else?"
"No," was his unusually monosyllabic response.
"Sweetheart, I know things are rough now. They'll all be fine soon. Don't worry. I'll let you be now. I'll call you later. You take care, okay?" she said as she got up to hug him. He gently put her arms away and motioned for her to sit down. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"I think you should know the truth. I don't want to lead you on and then disappoint you. I don't think this is going to work out. I have too many things on my head right now. My career hasn't taken off the way I'd planned. I need to research more, learn more. There are a zillion ideas buzzing in my head but not enough opportunity or time. I don't wish to waste a moment more. Then there are my parents. They are of prime importance to me. They aren't getting any younger. I need to be around to take care of them and not disappoint them. They have a lot of hopes pinned on me."
"But then, how..."
"Let me please complete. So, I'm sorry but I don't think I'd have any time to spare for you. I'd only end up feeling guilty. "
"Hey! When did I expect anything out of you? Have I ever pushed you into doing anything?" she tried hard to sound chirpy.
"Leave alone meeting you or talking to you over phone, even thinking of you takes my thoughts away from work. I hate it when that happens. I need to concentrate."
His frown nipped her giggles sharp.
"Whoa! You sound serious. You told me I was your inspiration. How did I suddenly become a distraction? Is there someone else?"
"No."
"Then what is it?" she didn't want to sound pleading.
"What I said is the truth. I have no time for love."
"Fine. I'll wait then."
"That's up to you. I can't promise anything," he shrugged.
Now this was getting annoyingly frightening. She held his hand and looked at him, searching his face for a clue. He just got up to leave.

As they stood at the exit door, "I am sorry," he said. After a long, lingering look at each other, they walked away in opposite directions.

"I hope she believed me," he thought as he turned around the corner, tears brimming his eyes.
"I wish he told me the truth," she thought as she quickly wiped her eyes and hailed a cab.




******

In response to a daily writing prompt from Writers Write. 


http://writers-write-creative-blog.posthaven.com/daily-writing-prompt-rQQFgT
*****

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Road Rage - 2 - 'Break-neck' speed breakers

http://sushant-danekar.blogspot.in/2010/06/vyangchitre-caricatures.html
While roads are being laid, half-laid, re-laid and being prepared for laying, I have a word or two to say about the speed breakers too. After all speed breakers contribute to a great extent in providing the exciting experience of cross-country races well within the city.

You see, there are basically three kinds of speed-breakers.
1. The Prim and Propah: These are of the right height, the right breadth, marked with black and white stripes. So we know what exactly they are, from even a distance 10-15 meters. Therefore, boring.    Of course, there are uncles in their shiny cars (with the plastic covers on the seats still intact). They sometimes block the entire traffic while they carefully deal with the brief uphill moment.

2. Half-baked: Now these are grudgingly erected at random places by the Corporation under pressure from the public. They are therefore half-done and haphazard (but surely more than half a hazard). They are perfectly camouflaged under the tar. The irritated worker forgot to paint lines over them. These challengers rise up at the most unexpected places. Now if there is a bike moving in front of you and you happen to pay attention, you brace yourself for the approaching hurdle. The other day, I happened to be the lone motorist on the road. It was a cool afternoon, I was in a state of bliss, with a song on my lips. I thought it was my state of mind that lifted me up some 10 inches in the air. It was only after the bike came down with a thud and I bit my tongue did I realise that the speed breaker was the actual cause of my levitation. With this rough incident, the last bits of spiritual bliss left my body with precisely two cuss words.

3. Custom-made: This is the most unique variety. Now these speed breakers mark the high-handedness of the local kingpin/daada/temple owner/rich man/ex-municipal councilor living on that street. These are just roughly laid mounds of concrete and blue-metal stones in varying altitudes. My guess is that they are laid by chefs or gardeners of these VIPs in their free time. The height and breadth of these killers vary depending on the VIP-ness of the aforementioned person. I tell you, these speed-breakers are the real deal. You won't know of their existence till you actually get close to them. But by then you are so close that you can't do anything really. If you are on a two-wheeler, use it to master your control over the machine. If you are in a car and you are a believer, you can just say a silent prayer while the monster speed breaker scratches the innards of your car with its devilish fingernails. And well, if you are non-believer, didn't they say you are already doomed?

Friday, July 31, 2015

Déjà vu - Part 10

Translated By Priya Arun
 from the Original Tamil Novella, Meendum Oru Kaadhal Kadhai by Cable Sankar


pic courtesy: Alan Cleaver/https://www.flickr.com/photos/alancleaver/
“Hello….Shankar?” That voice in a heavy American accent, sent shivers down my spine. Could that be her? Really? After so many years? It must have been at least two or three years now….?

“Yes?”

“Hi! This is Shraddha.” A brief pause. Oh god, it WAS her! Only she could say that name with such elan.

She had vanished without a trace after that terrible day at the office cafeteria. It had been so many years now, and her voice still had a mesmerising effect on me.

“Yes Shraddha. This is Shankar. It’s good to hear your voice after so long.”
“So, you haven’t forgotten me. Great! I need to meet you. Can you come to Hotel Trident?”

I checked the time. I was a little free in the afternoon. It was only the next day that I had a client meeting regarding an ad-film shoot. “Sure Shraddha. What’s the room number?”

“208...I’m waiting...just for you,” she said before hanging up.

It’d been so many years. Yet, she sounded so casual. I wondered if time would have changed her. Did she still look the same? Or all grown-up, perhaps sexier? It had been five long years since we had met. The first couple of months after she left were indeed difficult. I just went numb, unable to comprehend the sudden developments. Life had become a meaningless routine. It took me a few years to completely get over her. I had given her up along with the other opportunities that she had brought along, only to pursue my dreams of the silver-screen. After that, the only opportunity I got was that of an assistant in an advertising agency. With a little effort and struggle, I have now managed to start off my own agency, a small one though. I’ve clinched a few deals for corporate ad films. Well, this is the closest I have been able to get to direction.

As I parked my car and walked towards the elevator, I felt a little nervous. I was almost close to 208. Should I ring the bell? As my hand hovered near the doorbell, there she was, standing by the door.

She beamed at me, flashing her ever attractive smile. “Welcome!” she said, with open arms. As she shut the door behind us, I found her looking at me from head to toe, making me feel a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t seem to have changed much. Maybe you’ve just put on a little weight...otherwise, you look the same. Why don’t you sit down?” she said, pointing at the sofa. She sounded the same—as stylish and as laid back as ever. Her gold loops had given way to tiny trinkets in her ears. The way they shook every time she nodded her head still appeared very cute. Strangely, I was filled with exactly the same feeling as I did, the first time we met. A mixture of awe and self-consciousness.

She sat down very close to me.

“Would you like to have something? Coffee?”

“Nothing at all. Thanks. How have you been Shraddha?”

“Oh me? Been good. I weigh a few pounds extra, that’s about it. You tell me. So, have you been able to fulfill your dreams?”

Whoa! Was it her actually asking about something? Unbelievable. Yet, I cleared my throat and nodded, “Yep, kind of.”

“You should have just come with me.”

“If I’d done that, I wouldn't have been able to achieve even half of what I have Shraddha.”

“I heard you’re making ad films these days...so much for your tall dreams of becoming a movie director. You might have reached halfway to your destination alright. It hurts to say it, but in my opinion, you’ve missed the target.”

“I don’t think so Shraddha. What I’m doing now is just a means towards reaching my goal. I’m really close and I know I will do it. It’s just a matter of time, maybe a few months. Anyway, forget that. You tell me. You wanted to meet me…” as I was saying this, I found her moving closer to me. It was the same heady mint fragrance, all strong and powerful.

“Don’t you like me anymore Shankar? Don’t I mean anything at all to you now? You sound so detached.Yes, we did separate but I’m sure the feeling of love towards each other will never go away. Have you never missed me all these years?”

I smiled at the irony of it all. “I don’t think you should even talk about separation. It’s been a whole five years after that moment you walked out on me. You never felt the need to inquire after me in all these years. If you think there is pain in separation, I guess it’s me who should be talking about it.”

“Fine! I agree. But you know, after so much struggle to get dad’s consent, having arranged everything...do you know how I hurt I felt? Such opportunities are so hard to come by. You chose your principles, your dreams over me. Such a foolish thing to do. I was so mad at you, could have torn you to pieces. But I didn’t want to express my anger that way. So, I moved away...far, far away from you. I felt separation was the only way to make you realise my importance.”

“It was your decision.”

“But it was for us...the separation happened because you didn’t see the ‘us’ in this relationship. I am ready for you now. I still love you. Let’s leave to America immediately. Let’s first settle down there. And then you are free to do what you wish to. All my money is yours after all. You don’t have to sweat it out here doing films for silly, insignificant products. You deserve happiness. Only I can give it you. Just come away with me. Let’s live in the best of comfort and luxury. I’ll make life beautiful for you Shankar. Just come away with me.”

I was dumbfounded at what she said. This woman hadn’t changed one bit! After all these years, she still insisted on taking decisions on my behalf and was even thrusting them upon me. What’s more, she even wanted me to accept the decisions wholeheartedly.

“I can’t do it Shraddha. No.”

“What do you mean? Is it that you can’t come or don’t want to come with me?”

“I can’t say anything if you corner me this way. Since you’re insisting, let me tell you. I was as upset with you as you were with me. Still, I feel being in love is not everything. An unsatisfactory marriage and career can completely crush a person’s spirit. I strongly believe that a man and a woman should work together as a team and help each other in achieving their dreams and aspirations. That’s the only key to a happy marriage. If we decide to overlook that, I guess a bitter break-up is all that will remain.”

“Fantastic! So you don’t want me anymore, right? You say I can’t be a good wife to you, isn’t it? Bloody hell, what a bloated ego! You’re are rejecting me. Shraddha Reddy is being rejected? Wow! Great, okay,” she nodded her head vigorously and shrugged, her eyes welling up. She began to sob. I’d never seen her cry. I was quite surprised. I actually felt sorry for her. I pulled her close to me and wiped her tears away. We were now sitting really close to each other, just short of an embrace. All of a sudden, she held me really tight.

She started showering me with kisses. She was soon on top of me. With the warmth of her entire body over me, I felt losing all control of myself. My mind was in a muddle and I just didn’t know what to do with her or even myself. I grabbed her hard by her shoulders and pushed her away. She fell towards the floor in the impact. She was shocked. She didn’t move but kept glaring at me. I honestly didn’t intend to do this. As I got up and set my clothes right, I held my hand out to her. She refused to take it and got to her feet on her own. She whispered accusingly, “Aha! Your time for revenge hunh?”

“No Shraddha. That’s not my intention. This is not just about sex. If that’s all you want, I can give it to you even now. As far as I go, my emotional needs are way above my physical needs. You know, the feeling of love must be mutual. And I’m sorry but I really don’t have such feelings towards you anymore. My heart lies elsewhere Shraddha. This woman knows every bit of me—my weaknesses, bad habits, tantrums, my dreams and wishes—everything. The same goes with me too. Of course she’s had to adjust and accept a lot more than I had to. I cannot betray the woman who has been the pillar of my strength ever since the day you left me. All of us do fall in love at some point in life but somehow don’t always end up with the same person. I think you should start looking at it that way. Oops! I can’t change your point of view. Can I? Look, I’d better get going. I don’t want to make things difficult for you and embarrass you further.”

“Great! The person who you say has dedicated her life to you...may I know who that angel is?”

I turned around to look at her, my hand gripping on to the door knob. Her eyes were a flaming red. She stood with her hands on her hips...seething with anger. I responded, squarely looking at her in the eye, “Meera.”

With that I left the place to go back to the woman who had firmly planted back my faith and hope in love.


Thursday, July 30, 2015

Road Rage - 1

Happy to see a lot of roads being laid/re-laid in Madras. Also happy that the process has trained me in a few circus acts.


Act 1. Sentiment or superstition, I'm not sure but they lay only the right half of the roads. The right half is at least 3-4 inches higher than the left, which leaves small 2-wheelers being nudged roughly into the yet-unlaid part of the road by the mighty Scorpios and Endeavours. To either accept to your lowly existence or stake your claim on the higher planes is up to how courageous you are.


Act 2: The best act. Again for some reason, the roads are sprinkled with tiny, loose, blue-metal stones for a week before the tar is laid. Riding bikes over scattered marbles is something I've seen only in the movies. I feel very proud to have mastered that act.

One good thing about this road-laying business and it made me laugh. I was pleasantly surprised to realise that my 7-year old still says " Mamma, Load-lollel" looking at all the equipment lined on the road. (while secretly praying she wasn't referring to me).

Friday, July 24, 2015

Déjà vu - Part 9

Translated By Priya Arun
 from the Original Tamil Novella, Meendum Oru Kaadhal Kadhai by Cable Sankar


pic courtesy: Alan Cleaver/https://www.flickr.com/photos/alancleaver/

“Hey why do you look so puzzled? You can’t believe things can happen so fast, can you? That’s my dad. He’s the best! I’m so thrilled, I can’t even explain. I’ll get to office early tomorrow. Why don’t you come there? I’ve got loads and loads of stuff to tell you.  And don’t forget to get that passport done. Dad will be here next week. He plans to meet your family then.”
She spoke with the excitement of a chirpy child. I could see that she was completely ecstatic. But somehow, I didn’t share the same enthusiasm. She did notice that I was calm, but she didn’t delve into it. “Hey! You’re looking off colour. Aha! I know! Upset that you are going to get hitched? Too bad honey, it’s just destined that way,” and she broke into peals of laughter.

“Okay! Got to go. Lots more to discuss with dad. I need to talk to him about your job. My sweetest cupcake. Buh-bye. Goodnight...oops...good morning,” she said, kissing me so hard that my lips hurt. She turned around and ran into her apartment.

I stood there, watching her as she disappeared into her apartment. This appeared to be a happy-ending but I wasn’t really happy. How could I go and live in the United States? Would I have to live with her dad? What about my dreams then? To marry someone who lives in the States, to live off her dad’s money, to have kids, to raise them there and fade into oblivion in a foreign land...this idea sounded bizarre. I couldn't imagine leading such a life. But how could I tell her this? Even if I did muster the courage to say it, her reaction was what seemed really scary.

My thoughts left me listless. Unable to wait any longer, I took off to Shraddha’s office earlier than planned. I was anxious and nervous. I killed my time with a cigarette while I waited. Contradictory thoughts clouded my head just like the smoke from my cigarette. “A lovely girl that you love so much and a cushy life in a country like America...would you forego all of that for just a dream?” said a voice from a corner of my mind. “Accepting this new life will only mean losing my identity in the process,” another, rather, meek voice responded, from a distant corner of my mind.

Shraddha and Meera walked in, with their faces beaming with pride and excitement. Meera shook my hand with gusto and congratulated me. I couldn’t even feel half the excitement that she expressed through that handshake. Shraddha snuggled close to me, her eyes sparkling.

“Shankar, I’ve spoken to dad. There’s a job waiting for you in America. Well, not just the job, everything is all set and ready, waiting for you and that includes me!” she said, batting her eyelids.

“Shraddha, I don’t think I can come to America with you,” I found my voice annoyingly feeble as I said this. I saw her face change colour. She was losing her temper.

“But why? What the hell are you going achieve here? You’re going to have the girl of your choice, truckloads of wealth, a cool life in America...what else do you need? Well, sharing the roof with your father-in-law... is that what you’re worried about? Rubbish! This just shows your chauvinistic and middle-class mentality. Do you even have an idea how much convincing I had to do to get a ‘yes’ from Dad?”

“Hey Shraddha, please don’t be mad at me? I’m sure you know me and my dreams very well by now. My dream is to direct films. I am only holding on to my job because I want to save up and get a strong footing. How do I drop all of that? Marriage...a new life in America...it’s all so sudden. You know what? Let’s get married and live here for another five years. I am sure to make a name for myself by then. Actually I’d love to visit America...yes, as a tourist but I don’t think I’d ever want to live there Shraddha,” I took her hand in mine.

She yanked her hand away.

“I knew it. You never were really in love with me. All you wanted is to have is a good time with me. Given an opportunity, you’d have used and just dropped me. You’ve just gone ahead and proved it all over again. Seriously. Would you say such things if your feelings for me were true?”

“Listen Shraddha. I think career is as important as relationships. It is true that I love you but love is not everything in life.”

She rolled her eyes and whined. “Oh man...What’s the point? You will first get an opening, get noticed, and then become a famous director and then? Will you be able to make any money at all? You can’t be sure of anything. You’re just taking a chance. On the other hand, just think. You can’t even dream of the kind of money, luxury and comfort that is waiting for you, if not for Shraddha Reddy’s love for you! Rejecting this kind of a life is as good as rejecting Shraddha herself.”

“Don’t be silly. We fell in love with each other because we really liked each other. In any case, how do you think I can snuff out my dreams and be happy?”

“Come on! Don’t tell me everyone does only the jobs they like doing! And they eventually find their peace, don’t they?”

“They might appear happy but I think only they know the kind of pain they go through. I don’t think I can ever put up such pretense.”

“Okay, let’s assume you don’t achieve your dreams. Then what?”

“I don’t want to give up even before I try. You know...at the end of the day, it won’t matter if I win or lose. What will make me happy is the knowledge that I would have really tried.”

“You’re just being difficult.”
“No, I’m just trying to make sense. Meera, you know me and my dreams well. Why don’t you tell her?” Until then, Meera was looking at both of us, not quite knowing what to say.

“True Shraddha. He has been weaving his dreams only around films. You know what? Here’s what I think. Both of you are still young. And marriage can wait. Why don’t you give it another five years? If he is able to achieve his dreams by then, that’ll be great. And for some reason, he isn’t able to, then, I think he should come and live with you in America. What say?”

“Total crap, those pipe dreams of his. Why would I want to marry a loser after waiting five long years? I don’t think even my dad would accept him then.”

“Why don’t you look at the positive outcome of it?”

“Just shut up, Meera. I think this is my life and my decisions are best left to me.” Ignoring Meera, she turned to me. “Now tell me your final decision Shankar.” She looked me in the eye and spoke slowly, “Will you or will you not settle down with me in America? Is it a yes or a no?”

I’d never met anybody like this before. How could she only think of herself all the time? How could she take decisions on my behalf even on such serious issues? Didn’t she realise life wasn’t that simple? I had a life too...I had my dreams, aspirations...Was money all that she could think of? It was going be difficult to live with such a person even in India, forget the USA. My thoughts were disturbed by own voice.

“NO,” I heard myself say.

“Fine then. That’s the end of our love story. We part as strangers. Goodbye.” Meera and I could just sit there, staring in disbelief as she left.


Friday, July 17, 2015

Déjà vu - Part 8

Translated By Priya Arun
 from the Original Tamil Novella, Meendum Oru Kaadhal Kadhai by Cable Sankar
pic courtesy: Alan Cleaver/https://www.flickr.com/photos/alancleaver/

Shraddha’s brother came to know about us during a trip to India. He had asked me to meet him. He spoke Tamil with a NRI twang. He looked at me a like I was a worm. He interrogated me thoroughly. It appeared as if wondered how his sister fell in love with a vagrant like me. I guessed his displeasure right away. Quite obvious. Has there been a brother that approved of his sister’s lover instantly?

The next two days after that, Shraddha didn’t call me. Neither did she pick up my calls. I heard she hadn’t turned up at work too. Meera informed me that Shraddha’s brother had been creating a lot of trouble for her and also that Shraddha would call me later that night. I grew restless. I was itching to rush to her apartment and meet her. But I restrained myself. I didn’t want her to get into further trouble. She finally called me around 10 that night.

She whispered, “Shankar...I don’t know what to say. Things have gone pretty rough here. My brother doesn’t like you. I tried explaining things. He didn't listen. I keep trying to convince him but he gets violent... err...he hits me...You know something, no one’s ever hit me. Not once in my life.”

I was furious. “Really? That guy hit you? Shraddha, you’re not a kid. If it’s okay with you, I will marry you right away. Don’t worry. I can handle a dozen people like your brother.” I said the words alright but was a little anxious deep inside, even as I said it. Though some of my friends knew about it, I hadn’t yet told my family about Shraddha. I knew they wouldn’t disapprove of either Shraddha or my actions. Yet, I felt I shouldn’t do anything before I discussed it with them. But at that point, I didn’t have a choice. All I wanted was Shraddha and nothing else.

“I’ll tell you what Shankar. The more he opposes me, the more resilient I get. It makes me want you, no matter what... Listen. I’ve decided to speak to Dad. I can explain everything. And I’m sure he will understand. I know he will agree. And once that’s done, it’s just a cakewalk. Everything’s going to be just fine. Don’t you worry! Alright, got to go. Will talk to you tomorrow,” she hung up in a hurry.

While I was amazed at her courage during these difficult times, I also felt a little jittery. She was saying things that I should have told her. How was I going to spend the rest of my life  with such a person, I wondered.

Meera would act as our messenger for the next two days. She would give me hourly updates over phone and I would meet her at her office in the evenings. “I really pity you buddy,” she would say.

All this felt new. I had often made fun of my friends stuck in similar situations. I had even told them to “just ditch the girl and move on, ‘coz its just not worth all the effort.” But now, I understood what they might have gone through.

I finally confessed the entire story to Amma one night. As always, she heard me through patiently. She then told me, “If you’re sure you can take good care of the girl, I don’t see why there should be a problem. I can talk to Appa.  But there’s just one thing. You’ve been dreaming of doing films since ages. If you get married now, you will have to take on responsibilities. And that might mean putting your dreams in the back-burner. Are you sure you want to do that?”

Hmm...what she said, did make sense. Mine was quite a liberal-minded family. They never had any problems with either falling in love or choosing your own partner in marriage. But these were the people who dreamed my dreams along with me. They only knew my aspirations too well.

Day two. My phone rang in the middle of the night. It was Shraddha. I shook myself out of my deep sleep and answered it. I was greeted with a loud, “Yippeeeeeeeeee!” I could sense she was extremely excited about something but wasn’t sure what it was. I just waited for her to collect herself.

“I told you! I told you he would say yes. Didn’t I? My dad will always let me have what I wanted. He will never say no to me! You know what...I want to see you right now, this very minute. I want to give you a tight hug and a big kiss. Come home right now. As soon as you reach, just honk and I will run down to meet you. Okay?”

I checked the time. It was 3 in the morning. Was I sleeping? Could I ride my bike at such an unearthly hour? Was it okay by me? None of these questions seemed to cross her mind when she ordered me to come over. Though I was a little put off, the urge to meet her right then overpowered everything else at that moment.

I sneaked out of the the house, hopped on my bike and started off. It actually felt good. As I sped, the fresh, misty, clean breeze was all over my face just like Shraddha’s passionate kisses, knocking me breathless with happiness.

I reached her apartment and honked gently. She ran down in flash, clambered over me and held on to me like a baby. She showered me with kisses like there would be no tomorrow.

“I knew Daddy would not say ‘no’. All he asked me was, ‘Tutu...’—that’s how he calls me—‘do you really want him?’ And I said, ‘Yes, I do!’. That’s it! Job done! My darling daddy, the best! There was nothing my brother could do. Poor thing,” she giggled.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. Did love stories meet their happy endings so quickly? Was it really that easy? Was it all true? Well, her tight hugs, her giggles and her excitement did make it all seem true.
I was stumped. I kept looking at her, not knowing what to say.  Yet again, I couldn’t stop her from taking decisions on my behalf.

“Have you told your Dad everything about me?”

“Yes! Everything—even about your family.”

“Great! So, what next Shraddha? Maybe our families should meet now?”

“Yes, but first things first. Most important. Do you have a passport?”

“A passport? Well...must apply for one. But why?”

“Why? Because you need a passport to travel to the States, silly. Why else?” she asked me, looking surprised.

“And why would I travel to America now?”

“Obviously! You and I are going to move to America once we get married.”

Friday, July 10, 2015

Déjà vu - Part 7

Translated By Priya Arun
 from the Original Tamil Novella, Meendum Oru Kaadhal Kadhai by Cable Sankar
pic courtesy: Alan Cleaver/https://www.flickr.com/photos/alancleaver/
It had been raining incessantly all day. It was Meera’s birthday. We had already made plans for a movie and dinner. It was midnight and it was pouring. By the time I dropped Shraddha at her apartment, we were soaked to the bones. That was the first time she’d ever asked me to come home.

It was a tastefully done up two-bedroomed apartment. She quickly changed into pyjamas and a casual T-shirt. The few droplets of water that still remained in her hair gleamed as they caught the lights in the room. She disappeared into one of the rooms and came back with a towel and some clothes. “Go, change. They are my brother’s clothes. He stays here when he comes to India.” I kept looking at her without moving. As if to stop me from saying anything more, she pressed the clothes into my hands and nudged me into a room nearby, “C’mon, go,” she said. By the time I changed and got back, the living-room was filled with the most pleasant aroma of coffee. The coffee was comforting in the heavy rain, which just didn’t seem to stop.

“Alright. I’ll get going then,” I announced.

“Now? In this pouring rain?”

“What do I do? Doesn’t look like it has any intentions of stopping.”

“Why don’t you stay over?”
There was a burst of excitement at the suggestion but I acted cool, “That’s okay. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“Not a problem at all. You can sleep here in the living room. And me inside. You can watch some TV if you like.” And she got up to leave. I suggested we watch TV together for a while. She sat down next to me and turned the TV on. She impatiently flipped the channels, not even pausing to see what was actually playing. “Damn, so many channels and not one good show to watch,” she cursed under her breath. I told her to try some channel that might be playing good Tamil film music at this hour. She grunted and settled down with a movie on HBO—just as she was wont to do!

The way we sat close to each other sent my senses reeling. I’m sure she felt that way too. The TV was on but neither of us watched it. We were busy looking into each other’s eyes. She took my arm and put it snugly around her shoulder. We shifted closer together. Surprisingly, I realised, her mint fragrance which I should have got accustomed to by then, continued to tease me mercilessly.

While I was contemplating if I should make the first move, she came really close and gently bit my lower lip. Though a little shocked initially, I felt my body flush with warmth all of a sudden. We had kissed before but this felt completely new. The pouring rain, our being locked up so close to each other in this room must have encouraged Shraddha, who as such a bold person, to make this move.

With her taking this wonderful first step, I couldn’t control myself anymore. I pulled her really close to me and started kissing her passionately. I don’t remember everything clearly but I do remember nibbling her ear...her neck...And when I was trying to tug her T-shirt off in a hurry, like a bolt from the blue, she pushed me, no...kicked me away like a raging bull. In a flash, I found myself stupidly on the floor.

In what felt like a blur, I heard myself asking, “Hey! What’s with you?”

“Nothing. Please leave.”

“But darling, it’s pouring outside!”

“That’s alright.”

“I’ll fall sick if I go out now.” Assuming she was playing on, I pouted, "Why don’t you come here and see for yourself? Looks like I’m already running a temperature.”

“Listen. This temperature is different. It might be contagious. So Shankar, please leave.” She firmly pointed her head towards the door.

I was fuming inside! This was so unfair. Does she have to decide every damn thing right from the TV channel to this, especially having made the first move herself? What did she think? Start and stop as she pleased?

While I was grappling with my bruised ego, she quickly stood up, straightened her clothes and looked at me as if she was waiting for me to leave. This made me more furious.

“Hey! It was you who started it all and now...alright, I can sleep in the other room, if it makes you feel better,” I offered.

“Can you please leave?” she repeated, now glaring at me.

“Babes, do you realise how unfair this is? Fine, you don’t want to do anything now, its okay. But do you really have to suddenly act all coy and ask me to go out in this lashing rain?”

I had barely said this and she gushed out her fieriest temper that I’d ever seen. “Oh my God! What a jerk you are! What did you just say? ‘...acting coy’? So, what really have you been thinking of me? Just because I grew up in the West, you thought I’d be easy to get?”

“Hey Shraddha! Relax okay? Don’t take it to heart.”

“Ha! How can I not? Do you even realise what you just said? Don’t I have any self-respect? I’ve been in love with you. That’s the only reason I kissed you. It just felt good sitting in this room, just the two of us...and that made me kiss you. I did it just out of love and I had nothing else in mind. I didn’t think you’d get so perverse. I guess you were just waiting for the ‘opportunity’. Now that it hasn’t happened, your frustration has brought out your true self. Just get lost okay? I don’t want to have anything to do with you ever again,” she screamed.

I was dumbstruck. Did the word ‘coy’ connote so much? I never expected her to get so offended. Having been led-on this way and to be kicked out high and dry...how’s one supposed to react? If she kissed me out of love, what about me? My reason was love too. Isn’t lust the progressively logical thing to feel? How unpredictable women can get! They kiss, it’s out of love. We kiss, and it’s lust. What the hell?

With nothing to say, I left immediately. Within no time, I was soaked again in the rain. I started my bike. From the corner of my eye, I could see her watching me from her window. I moved a couple of blocks away and lit myself a cigarette. I blew out a huge puff of smoke with all my might. Doing something that she disliked, gave me immense pleasure at that moment.

We didn’t speak to each other for the next two days.  I don’t know how she managed to keep away but I found it extremely difficult. Initially I thought she should call me first. But I couldn’t hold back my resolve for too long. I started missing her. At the same time, I couldn’t gather the courage to talk to her in person or even over phone. The tug-of-war in my head tore me apart. When I thought of that night from her point of view, it all made sense to me. Any girl would have done that to protect herself. I convinced myself that she wouldn’t have wanted to complicate things. Perhaps I was wrong in reacting the way I did.
Or was I over-thinking all of this? Did she think of me at all? Unable to hold the reins to my racing thoughts, I called Meera.

Meera sounded as chirpy as ever. I asked her about Shraddha. She said Shraddha was in a meeting and that she would pass on my message. Not one to lose a chance to rag me, Meera asked me mischievously, “Hey! Looks like you guys had the most romantic time the other day! Shraddha has been glowing...looking gorgeous!”

“What? Glowing?” I thought to myself. “That woman!” I immediately checked myself in the rear-view mirror of my bike. I looked like the original prototype of a dumb idiot. I quickly finished my conversation with Meera.

I realised in those two days that though I didn’t actually think of her, I had started associating a lot of things with her. Everything I saw reminded me of Shraddha. The clothes that girls wore, huge earrings, curly hair...such small everyday insignificants caused a new kind of pain. Should I just pick up the phone and talk to her? I had used up two full packs of cigarettes...a rarity these days. If this continued for another two days, would I have become the famed Devdas with a bottle and a faithful dog for company? I couldn’t take it anymore. I resolved that I would talk to her, no matter what. I was prepared for anything. Just as I was getting ready to go to her office, my phone rang. It was Meera.

“Hey! Shraddha wants to talk to you.” Shraddha! What would I tell her? What was she going to tell me? My thoughts were interrupted by her voice, “Dude! What’s up? Long time. Too busy to even phone me? Yeah...I guess you’d have more important things to do.”  She spoke on, as if everything was normal between us. Her tone melted me. I felt a lot lighter. Wasn’t she upset with me anymore? As simple as that? Wow! So, it was me who blew it all up in my head!

“Hey! Are you there?”

“Uh...Yep, I’m right here Shraddha. Go on.”

“Err...can you come over...to my office...if you have the time?” she requested with such sweetness, that no one could say ‘no’.

I was there in a jiffy. I hadn’t seen her for two full days. She looked prettier than ever. Her lovely curls cascaded with a force from the grip of her hairclip. The baby-pink shade of her lipstick floored me completely. Her lips reminded me of the other night. She flashed the broadest smile, waved Meera goodbye and hurried me up. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” We rode very quietly for a while. I sat a little farther than usual.

“My chest isn’t your backrest. Move it, Mister! You’re going to throw me off the bike.” she would often chide me.

I felt her move closer to me. She slowly put her arms around my waist. It felt good. But I pretended to be unaffected. She tried to tickle my ear with her tongue. I shook my head as if to shoo her off. Damn! She knew my weakness.

“Hey! You’re cross with me?”

“No darling, why would I be? I’m only too happy to be at your beck and call. I will be present when you need me. I will kiss you when you feel like it. And will disappear when you don’t. At your service Your Highness. No questions asked.”

“I’m really sorry Shankar. I was getting quite out of control the other day. If you’d stayed on another two minutes more, I really don’t know what would have happened. Yes, I do understand what you felt then. But somehow, I felt the moment wasn’t right. You know...that gut feeling one gets? It was me who provoked you...led you on and then forced you to go out in that terrible rain. I’m really, really sorry...” she trailed off.

I sensed a tremble in her voice. Was she crying? I peeked into the rear-view mirror but couldn’t see much. We had reached her apartment. Neither did she speak nor did she get off the bike. I turned back and looked at her in askance. She quickly hopped off the bike and ran into her flat without saying a word.

I hung around for a few minutes more. She beckoned me from her balcony. As I entered the flat, she slammed the door shut. She quietly came to me, pressed me to the door, looked at me and said, “I’m all yours darling.”

There wasn’t an inch of space between us as she held me close. She looked up at me, pouting her lovely lips. I bent down and very gently kissed her. I released myself from her grip and confessed, “That’s all I need Shraddha.” I opened the door and ran down the stairs. As I started my bike, I could sense that she was looking at me from her at her balcony, a new habit.

The days that followed were sheer bliss, until her brother had come to India and seen us.

Friday, July 03, 2015

Déjà vu - Part 6

Translated By Priya Arun
 from the Original Tamil Novella, Meendum Oru Kaadhal Kadhai by Cable Sankar

pic courtesy: Alan Cleaver/https://www.flickr.com/photos/alancleaver/

I couldn’t get a wink of sleep all that night. I kept touching my cheek all the time. Something told me she might be in love with me too. But I wasn’t sure. She comes from a country where even a kiss on the lips is no big deal. What’s a little peck on the cheek? Who knows if she were to tell me the next day that I reminded her of her brother! I was very confused.

I expected her to phone me the next day. I waited. It was she who hugged and kissed me. She would call if she had any feelings for me at all. My pride lasted only a few minutes more. I called her.

“Hi Shraddha!”

“Yes Shankar?”

“Why don’t we meet sometime?”

“Why?”

“I need to tell you something?”

“Can you do that over the phone?”

“I don’t think so. I want to talk to you in person.”

“Alright. Meet me at Coffee Day this evening.”

The two-hour gap seemed never-ending. Even stepping into Coffee Day would cost me a hundred bucks. So I decided to while my time at the tea-shop outside. I bought myself a fag. I was quite anxious about what she might have to say. I drew in the smoke in with all my might and blew out a huge whiff of smoke. I suddenly realised she was standing there, in the cloud of smoke, looking at me with her arms firmly crossed.

I nearly jumped out of my skin but tried to appear cool. I smiled sheepishly, hurriedly snuffing my cigarette out. “Er...just once in a while. Since you said you’d be late, I thought I’d...um...I rarely smoke...”

She walked into Coffee Day without saying a word. We found a table and she ordered cappuccino again. “Shankar, I really don’t know why I kissed you yesterday. I just couldn’t resist the urge. I don’t even know why I like you. I couldn’t sleep the whole of last night. You know, I’ve never felt this way before. And if this is the love you spoke about yesterday, well, I must say, it’s a great feeling. But I’m terribly confused. What’s to happen to these feelings next year when I will be back in the States? And your dream is to become a film director. I don’t think our goals will ever match. I don’t think I can change my plans and I don’t think it’s fair for me to expect you to do that either. So, what’s the point in even committing to anything now?”

Her confusion surprised me! Why was she overthinking this? I think it’s silly to base our decisions based on what’s going to happen a year from now. I didn’t meet her with an agenda of falling in love with her. Such things just happen. Though I was a little irritated with her confusion, it seemed very endearing. Her childlike-perplexity made me want to hold her tight and kiss her.

“Hey, listen. I feel you shouldn’t be thinking about this so much. And I don’t even think either of us should change ourselves right now. Okay? Just let thing be for now. You do like me, right? That will do for now. Who knows, once we spend more time with each other, change might come just naturally. Well, if the changes don’t happen, then we should look at it as though it was never meant to be. So, for now, let me tell you, I love you. I really do.” As I said that, on an impulse, I pulled out the artificial rose out of the vase on the table and offered it to her dramatically. She accepted it with a giggle and hugged me. I felt a lot of love in that warm embrace.

And then, we started getting closer to each other as days passed. I would start from home early every morning, pick her up, drop her at her office and then get to work. This had now become a routine. And what a routine it was! Twenty minutes of togetherness—sheer bliss. How do I even begin to explain how happy those bike rides made me feel? With a lovely girl holding on tight, the fresh morning breeze blowing on the face...the feeling is something one must experience in order to understand it.

It beats me how I managed to change myself so much! I had never woken up before 8:30 in the morning.

“Have you ever felt the early morning sun rays on your skin?”

I started waking up at 6:30 every morning.

She noticed my growing beer-belly, as if my being overweight weren’t enough. “What’s the point in waking up early? You need to get active. Go for a walk. Play a game of badminton It’s good for the body...and the mind as well.”

That girl spoke a lot of sense.

“You know what? You look quite cool when you smoke. And then the smell of nicotine...um...when we kiss and all that. Yet, I think you should cut down on your smoking. Doesn’t help you keeping fit, really.”

She was right. I couldn’t run well during badminton practice. I started reducing the number of times I smoked in a day. Meera observed it, “Gosh! I’ve told him a zillion times to quit smoking but all he would do was to blow the smoke right into my face. I guess he needed someone special to do the talking.

“Hey! It’s not me Meera. He plays badminton everyday and he realized he was getting breathless easily. That’s the reason.” I felt good when she tried to secretly guard me (or ‘us’?).

I noticed small changes in her as well. She had stopped wearing those horrible leggings. She had stopped chewing gum. The best part, she had even stopped interrupting when someone spoke! But her bossy side was still intact. She continued taking a lot of decisions of my behalf. Well, I seemed to revel in it.

In a matter of just three months, it felt as though we were just made for each other. It was beautiful. Everything seemed just fine until that rainy day—that rainy day when we were alone at her apartment. If only I had avoided staying back at her apartment that day, the huge fight might have probably been avoided as well.