arshi SS : Hamesha ~ A heartbeat away, Chapter 25

Chapter 25

It was one of those rare moments when Arnav Singh Raizada was simply sitting. A laptop was not open in front of him. Neither was his bluetooth attached to his ear. His books lay neatly arranged in alphabetical order on the distant bookshelves. Even the bright green watering can remained by the rose bush, not in use.

ASR did not believe in wasting time resting or in idle chatter. He throbbed with life. Even if his physical body was in one place, his sharp mind would constantly be solving problems, coming up with ideas. His mind would be categorizing, delegating, making sure everything went perfectly as planned.

Soft waves lapped in the shallow pristine blue waters of the pool. A rhythmic gurgle could be heard as the water gently dashed against the walls of its confinement.

ASR’s eyes were a much darker startling pool of untold mysteries. They segued from turbulent storms to heavy downpour. Until, with a sigh he closed his eyes.

In his characteristic gesture he swallowed. He tilted his head upwards. The blinding brightness of the afternoon rays, even across closed eyelids, was apparent. The heat of the sun on his face felt good. Gradually his breathing calmed. The tension in his muscles started to recede..

Di was fine..

He recollected the scene from an hour ago..

“tumne suna chote? Tum mama bannane wale ho..”

(Did you hear? You are going to be an uncle)

Di had this increduluos look on her face, as if this wasn’t something that had truly sunk in yet.

He himself had heard the words and groped around in the dark. This was uncharted territory. All he knew about kids was that nani and mami had a habit of teasing di about them. That scoundrel of a Shyam would simper while di would blush and giggle in reply.

ASR was always safe behind his newspaper, with no intention of being part of such conversations. He did remain vigilant enough to step in if ever di appeared distressed. Thankfully he had never really needed to be part of such weird conversations because di had always been happy. But that was before..

What was he supposed to say? How was he to react? His di.. A mother? Arnav Singh Raizada.. mama?

“chote…”, di had cuppsed his face and broken into a wide smile. He had no doubts her eyes were sparkling.

“I am very sorry I went with..”, her voice shook a little and eyes clouded for a minute, but she went on. “I went with Shyamji because I hoped for some kind of miracle. Now look.. Ma sent us a miracle.. my very own miracle.. I am not alone.. my child..”

Her eyes were shining again, crinkling at the edges.

For a second ASR felt a stab of worry. Would di take this as an excuse to hide from the facts? The fact that the man she had married was a cheat and worse. Shyam was greedy, dangerous and remorseless.

“di main hoon. I will always be with you. Aap akeli nai ho..” He placed his own shaking hands firmly on top of hers.

(I am there. you are not alone)

She was nodding. “Hum jante hai. That is why I am not afraid for my child. Tum ho..”

(I know.. you are there.)

She removed her hands from his cheeks and lovingly caressed the curve of her belly. “I still can’t believe it. Tumhe pata hai I have had so many plans for her..”

(you know..)

Her?

Di giggled, sounding almost eighteen again. “Don’t look at me that way..Obviously I don’t know for sure lekin humein hamesha se beti chahiye thi. Even Shyamji..”

(I always wanted a daughter)

Her voice trailed away. Her gaze landed on the walls lined with photo frames. “Ask Om prakashji to take these away. Instead I will line the walls with disney princesses.”

She laughed. ASR was having a hard time deciding if di was genuinely okay.

“And now lets concentrate on the weddings..”, she made a movement to rise from the bed.

ASR panicked. “di maybe you need to rest a little. The wedding..”

“has to happen exactly as planned. And of course I don’t need to rest. The more active I am the better for my baby. And you can starting reading up on all this, because I am going to be asking Khushi bhabhi for a playmate soon.”

She laughed when she saw his alarmed expression. Then quickly sobered down.

“Pata hai chote there were moments today when I was almost ready to give up on life. Ma.. ko bhi aisa laga hoga na? we will never know..”

(ma .. must have felt the same)

She wiped away a teardrop from the corner of her eyes. He felt his jaw clench and had to blink a few times.

“di aap aise kyu keh reh ho?”, his voice was hoarse laced with pain.

(why are you saying such things?)

“because you were always right chote”, came her reply. “We should always face facts. Chote, ma gave up on living, but we have each other and now Khushi bhabhi.. my baby”. Her teeth were visible again as she grinned.

“there is nani, mami..oh everyone.. So there is a million reasons to live, but most importantly ma always believed in goodness and love. We can’t give up on that. Agar hum pyar mein vishwas nahi karenge toh unki zindagi yuhi zaaya ho gayi. Promise me we won’t let that happen”.

(if we don’t believe in love then her life was futile)

He had never known di to be this strong. Maybe she really was all right. The strangest realization hit him. He felt like laughing.. He was actually terribly relieved she was still talking about love. He had never thought he would be thankful about her crazy ideas of love.

She seemed to have noticed the slight drag of his lip and caught on. An excitement was clearly visible in her. “Ab hato chote. Let me go find Khushi and Payal bhabhi. Waise you have to admit you have been quite boring to be with all these years. Ab Khushi bhabhi aake tumhe thora kam ukhda ukhda bana de to meri sari mushkile khatam.”

(now move away.. now if Khushi bhabhi comes and makes you less cynical and sour all my troubles are gone)

He had let himself break into a smile then. This di he knew. This teasing, sprightly, slightly condescending di made him feel normal.
ASR opened his eyes as the sound of Khushi Kumari Gupta’s payal fell on his ears. Next he could hear her bangles as they slid across her lissom arms. She must be waving them about.

No di was not just okay.. She was happy..

And this poolside, where without understanding why, he had feared that he would never see Khushi again, would now always have Khushi around. All of a sudden he was hit by a powerful eagerness for the evening to come.

He was even more eager for the wearer of that payal and those bangles to arrive before him. Khushi.. He indulged in saying the name out loud.. A disarming boyish grin appeared on his face, that would have made any heart that saw it surely melt.
****

"humaar saaladwa koi isstealing karat rahe sasuma" , Manorma Raizada wailed.

(someone stole my salad)

Her mother-in-law could only roll her eyes and hope that Payal bitiya would someday complain about stolen salads to Manorama so that she got a taste of her own medicine.

“Aap kahe drama karat hai Manorama. There is so many things to eat that the caterers have sent for lunch. Ee sab mein se kuch kahe nahi kha let hai?”

(why are you putting on this drama? why don’t you eat something from all this spread?)

“no noj saasuma. Shaam ko toh phull on eating karike pari. Toh abhi dieting eej impartant", Manorma patted her bun complacently.

(no no.. in the evening we will bring on the eating. So for now dieting is important)

Madhumatiji sat down on the dining table with the other ladies and peered into each dish with scary concentration.

“kya hua Madhumatiji?" , The head of the Raizada family asked politely.

(what happened?)

“hai re nand kisssoore. humaar gulab jamun aur kachoriyan naahi milat hai. I kept it on the table there“, she waved around her hand in a sweeping movement. The ‘there‘ could basically have meant any part of Shantivan if one went as per the movement of her hand.

(I can fin’t my gulab jamun and kachori)

“hello hi bye bye..“, Manorama was about to break into a dramatic soliloquy when one of the culprits ambled upto the table.

“nani gulab jamun and kachori toh swadisht hai. Main ek poora plate kha liya“, NK announced. He sat down rubbing his tummy contently. Smug that he managed a correct hindi word for once.

(its tasty. I ate a whole plateful)

“hai re nand kissore.. Natkhat nand kisore ki tarah tum bhi churakar khayat rahe maakhan“, buaji was looking loopily at the speechless boy.

(Like naughty nand kisore you are stealing and eating butter)

“err”, he was planning to make a run for it, but was stopped by mami’s reproaches.

“NK babua humaar saladwa kahe issteal karat rahe?”

(why did you steal my salad?)

“Salad? Jab gulab jamun hai and kachori main ghaas phoos kyu eat karunga mami. Something is fishy“, NK scratched his head looking all around as if crunchy leaves would appear out of thin air and mami’s salad would be found.

“machli? Naahi naahi.. Pure vegetarian salad rahat.. Only pattaj.. Green green“. mami had moved her hands in the motion of swimming fish. Then hurried to reassure everyone, worried that sasuma might think she had brought in fish into the house. NK babua sometimes was quite crazy she decided. He knew she was a vegetarian.

(fish.. no no.. it was a pure vegetarian salad. only leaves)

Anjali walked in leading a happy lakshmiji. “humaara sara kamra Lakshmiji ne ganda kar diya. Who gave her a salad to eat?”

(Lakshmiji dirtied my entire room.)

While nani was happy to see Anjali appear normal after long, Lakshmiji oblivious of her crime continued to munch on the remaining leaves in her mouth.

“Maeee“, maybe she was appreciating the wedding food too.

****

“Arnavji di suggested I bring you lunch. Om Prakashji is busy. Humne mamaji se suna Om Prakashji aur Mohanji mein jhagra ho gaya hai.. Amanji bhi hai waha. He is trying to sort it out.”

(I heard from mamaji Om Prakashji and Mahoanji had a fight. Amanji is also there)

The girl is bright green and sunny yellow sat down in front of him. Then with care she broke a tiny piece of poori and held it up for him.

He took the morsel into his mouth and munched.

“Aap thik hai na Arnavji?“, a pair of large beautiful questioning eyes stared anxiously at him, as another bite was held up. She was worried for him. She wasn’t sure what all Shyamji had said, but Arnavji and di had looked pale when she had burst into the house.

(are you all right?)

“I am ravenous“, he replied. The words had brought on an army of butterflies in her stomach. Those prehistoric giant butterflies the size of dinosaurs most probably. And the flapping of their wings clearly led to an undeniable acidity.. dhak dhak dhak dhak..

When he nipped at the fingers that held the food, she was sure it was to tell her how alright he was. She yelped and withdrew her hand. Her nose seemed to radiate heat and her tongue was tied in knots.

Her stomach decided to rumble and her mouth opened wide in embarrassment.

He laughed. As if there was no care in the world. A handsome young man enjoying himself on his wedding day. Had she called him handsome..hey devi maiyya.. Now her cheeks were aflame.

“tumne kuch khaya?“, his voice dipped low and held an intimate caress.

For once, she almost missed the words, as she concentrated on the plate in front. “Aise toh humne kha liya tha, par ek aur poorie toh kha hi lena chahiye.” She made a roll of the poori and stuffed it into her mouth. Food might help with the strange feeling in her stomach.

(I did eat, but I think I should eat atleast one more poori)

He was still grinning, his face looked uncommonly boisterous. Days ago when she had seen him laugh for the first time she had thought he did not look like a laad governor while smiling.. devi maiyya I was right.. when he laughs..

In reflex her hand went to slap her forehead.

“What the“, two bedazzled brown eyes followed her movement.

devi maiiya.. jab wo haste hai tab wo laad governor nai lagte.. But when does he laugh.. I could count those times on my fingers.. Aur humare toh aapki tarah das hath bhi nai hai devi maiyya.. I don’t have ten hands like you.. only two.. Bas 2 hath ke fingers mein sara counting ho jayega..

“Khushi.. One of these days you have to tell me what do you keep mumbling“.. He took a more reasonable size bit of the poori as he watched her.

She got up in agitation.

“We fought arnavji. Today of all the days.. And I like jilebis and aapko meetha mana hai.. Humare hero hai Barun Sobti aur aapke liye toh sirf wo hollywood movie.. I have only read chacha chowdary with excitement and you read those boring hard covered books jinki likhai dekh kar hi humein neend aa jayegi.. Arnavji humein teekha pasand hai aur aapki toh zindagi feeki hai..”

(you are not allowed sweet. My hero is Barun Sobti and all you like are Hollywood movies… looking at the print in your books I fall asleep.. I like hot and spicy, and your whole life is bland..)

She didn’t want him to become serious.. but devi maiyya.. She turned to face him..

“Aapko toh sukoon pasand hai aur mujhe shor gul na ho toh neend nai aati..”

(you like peace and I can’t even fall asleep if there is no noise)

For a moment her breath left her as she looked at her Arnavji and their eyes met. He had that casual assured air around him, a slight pout on his lips. He looked inviting and dangerous. He looked like her Arnavji.

“hey devi maiiya ye toh humne socha hi nahi.. Humein teekha pasand hai that is why..”

(I didn’t think of this.. I like hot and spicy that is why..)

“that is why .. what?“, his gaze smouldered as he took a step towards her.

She shuffled her feet backwards. He moved closer. A familiar exhilarating dance that they had performed numerous times in the past. She knew she was about to hit the wall behind her when a firm voice inside her urged her to say it. Out loud. Because, she wanted him to know.

“is liye toh I love you Arnavji“, she whispered and flashed her pearly white teeth, happily.

(that is why)

Before he could say anything, she cut in, “par aapko.. Why me Arnavji?“, she was genuinely puzzled now.

(but for you..)

“Didn’t you say I like peace.. Even when you talk non stop and make my life chaotic I find sukoon. You bring me peace Khushi Kumari Gupta“.

The laad governor could say the tenderest of words at times.

His hand had found its way around her back and jerked her sinfully close. His lips hovered right above hers as he spoke. A heady husky timbre that came from a mix of desire and sincerity.

“We can order different dishes to eat, and when I want something sweet I will taste your lips. I will definitely not be watching that idiot Barun Sobti, but you sure will have to watch a few scandalous English movies with me. We’ll fight and make love.. I’ll yell and tease and not pay attention and you can irritate me and defy me and make me laugh.. And through all this I will love you and you will love me.. And we will share our lives hamesha.. How does that sound? hmm..”

The kisses that followed were a seal to the promise. A vow of two lovers.

When they broke apart for some air, with a cool smirk the wicked one proceeded to remind her that their suhaag raat was a few hours away and they might as well behave themselves till then.

Khushi was sure this time the blush that set in was permanent. An avalanche had descended on her ears..

dhak dhak dhak dhak..

****

It was sometime later that Khushi and Payal sat with their babuji. Garima was bustling around the room worried that the girls would be horribly late, but they had wanted to spend some time with their father. Not just Khushi, but even Payal had cajoled her into staying a little longer. How could she possibly say no to them!

She watched them with their father. Garima could not believe he had spoken. As his voice gained strength, it felt like there was no gap of months when she had not heard him. The voice was familiar. The words he uttered were the ones she had imagined these past few months.

He rested on a comfortable arm chair, already wearing the cream kurta that Anjali had bought for him and her mamaji. Raw tasar silk with maroon and gold thread embroidery around the neck and small pearl buttons. He looked distinguished in it.

Garima thought about the rani pink silk she was going to wear. She had been worried it was too bright for the brides mother, but Anjali had convinced her to wear it. The fall had a mauve tinge and a thick silver border right uptil the aanchal. And on each pleat would show an intricate madhubani motif.

On jeeji’s insistence she had even tried on the saree a few days earlier and liked it, but now she hoped she would look nice next to the man who was perfect.

“Khoosie.. Payaliya.. Now get up and start getting ready“, she had to be firm. Who knew where jeeji was and these two girls showed no signs of moving!

Through the open door Nk and Akash babua came running in. Atleast, they were still not dressed either, she thought with a bit of relief.

“Aunty humein jhootha hide karna hai.. Otherwise marna hai“, NK spoke frantically.

(We want to hide a liar)

“Nk bhai jhootha nahi joota“, her usually calm son-in-law also was apparently excited and breathless.

(Not a liar a shoe)

“Akash tum decide kar lo tum meri Hindi correct karna chahte ho or do you want to hide these shoes?“, an indignant NK demanded.

(you decide if you want to correct my hindi or want to hide these shoes)

While they were busy arguing about where to hide the shoes, with a few helpful hints from Payal and Khushi, Anjali walked in.

Garima was pleased to see the color had returned on her face. Her limp was hardly noticeable and her happiness seemed genuine and complete. She was a strong woman. Garima felt a maternal pride envelop her. A motherless girl, who had already been through too much. Yet she was here. Hopeful and strong.

A comanding voice bellowed from below. “NK Akash where the hell are my shoes? Om Prakash go find them..”

Garima was about to to get worried. Arnav bitwa sounded angry.

The kids in the room however, had all burst out laughing. And though the one downstairs was shouting currently, Garima knew for sure her daughters' were getting married into a house with wonderful people. Khushi’s amma, her jiji, would have been blissful to see such a match.

Her husband had turned to watch her. There eyes met and a feeling of contentment was shared without words.

Only a few more hours and her bitiyas would be married..


****

Writing class 4

Countdown to my last class. I will miss going to the university campus, miss walking down the empty corridors, miss sitting on the building steps in the cool shade of the old trees.

The prompt ~ Genre of your choice, a self proclaimed psychic Melinda, a hairbrush, bedroom, 900 words

My story board for it..

Melinda stood staring out of the window of her cottage. Her usually vacant glassy eyes held a furtive expression tonight. Every sound made her jump. She had a feeling this prophecy could only mean trouble.

Something startled Melinda from her uneasy reverie.  The door was pushed open and in rushed a svelte figure clad in wine colored chiffon. A dark velvet hood covered her striking features partially. The new entrant in the cottage moved with so much grace that she gave the illusion of gliding on air. There was no doubt in Melinda's awestruck mind who stood before her. It was the princess. 

Melinda's half uttered gasp remained suspended in mid air as Princess Madneli's melodious voice rang out. "Tell me o seer, where is the hairbrush? Oh you must hurry for there is no time to let slip by. For I do not know how long will it take for my father's guards to find me." 

"Same letters shall grace the moniker,
of her who shall see the future.
For silver strands of tranquil moonlight
would gleam when brushed on the third night.
With her whose future it shall be,
magic can then be set free."

As Madneli's voice rose the older lady in the room could feel her heart still. Her mouth remained wide open. The princess rushed towards Melinda. Her voice, an urgent whisper now, "You must see, o seer, the girl in your prophecy. She has to be me. I am the one."  With these words Madneli took down her hood.

Now, the smallest child in the farthest corner of the realm knew the princess had silver hair. However, Melinda was left breathless with the beauty before her. The princess impatiently shook her hair as she rushed to the mirror in the corner and from the table picked up the silver hairbrush studded with gems the color of the ocean. "Our names. Madneli. Melinda. The same letters, just like you foretold. It is the third night after the moon has waned. If you brush my hair tonight, magic will return as the ever merciful goddess Gaya has promised. I hear footsteps. My father must desire me back in the safety of his castle. Hurry o seer!"

Melinda was too dazed to protest. She let herself be led outside of the back door. They stealthily made their way through the interwoven labyrinth of the streets. Melinda jerked to a stop. She had to reason with the princess even though it might mean her death. This had gone too far. For eons had passed since the last fruitful magic spell had been cast in the realm. "My princess, I cannot talk to the dead and I cannot see what lies for us in the future. I simply wove a silver yarn to earn some silver coins. And this is but a silver hairbrush with crystals."

Slowly the fire in Madneli's eyes started to dim. She looked shaken. After all these centuries of having faith, was there no hope left after all?


"My fair maiden allow me to guide you to someplace safe". Before them stood a man like no other. Chiseled cheek bones, jet black hair, vivid blue eyes and with it a strong set of shoulders and a firm hand that had grasped Madneli's arm. The face of the stranger seemed to emit a strange glow. Melinda listened to his words as if hypnotized by his energy. "I have been gifted by the ever merciful Goddess Gaya to have enough powers to protect you in this perilous journey. For it shall be a long and arduous one. One a pretty maiden as yourself has never undertaken and never shall anyone else undertake again. For we shall return successful and with our return, magic will return to everyone. It shall no longer remain with the privileged few, but be enjoyed by the entire realm."

The princess turned uncertainly towards Melinda. Just then there was a deafening sound of footsteps. "Come, make haste", he said taking charge. They let themselves be guided through the streets by the stranger. Turn after turn he ran with them at his heels till they had no idea of the direction they were heading.

Finally he slowed down and turned. His smile had vanished and in his right hand shone a cold silver dagger.  Before the princess could react the dagger had pierced right through her heart. She crumpled to the ground in a beautiful but sadly lifeless heap. 

The man turned his piercing gaze towards Melinda next. "So you don't remember me, do you? Perhaps it is for the good of everyone. I have seen you prettier, but age suits you as well. Farewell sweet seer until we meet again. For meet we shall as destiny has foretold. This tale has no ending till the final end is told."

Melinda felt the dagger smoothly, with infinite precision, cut through her heart, but the pain did not come with it. Instead came flashes of fleeting memory. She saw herself pretty and young standing in front of a silver haired man..... A middle aged fat Melinda looked on in horror as a silvered haired child collapsed in her arms… An even younger Melinda lay sobbing at the feet of a black haired man who seemed to be laughing. She saw herself looking stunningly beautiful as she faced someone whose back was towards her. "Magic is mine", he said as he turned. The face with its sardonic smile was an exact replica of the man who had but seconds ago ensured her death. 

At last Melinda knew the truth. Her prophecy had been true all along. It was time to end this life. She would die this night, but the viscous circle would continue unless she found a way to end it once and for all.  

Writing class 3

My third story assignment. This was by far much tougher that the previous two because we had to chose 2 characters from a pool given. Also select from the pool two props, two locations and a snippet of dialogue. 

"Just drop it", Chris stated calmly. Were therapists even allowed to voice their personal opinions with so much conviction, I found myself idly wondering.

It was 5'o clock on a Tuesday evening and I was sitting in Chris's plush upscale office right in the heart of downtown. I occupied the dark coffee leather sofa as I had on all my previous visits before. In front of me sat an amicable looking elderly man. His white hair was brushed smartly back. A while back I had decided he was wise and at that precise moment I knew these visits would do me good. Today however my mind was stubbornly refusing to register anything that had left Chris's mouth in the last half hour.

My therapist's office seemed like a perfectly reasonable place as any for some introspection. So who was I? Sarah Ricker, a realtor. I loved my work. There was an exhilarating thrill and an accompanying gratification in helping someone find the home of his dreams.  My life was busy and purposeful.

So why was I here, in a therapy session? Anger. Yes, blind rage and unmanageable fury was my undoing. I had just finished telling Chris this tale. How I was in my office elevator when Jon had walked in. The details were hazy, now that I think of it. All I know is that before too long I wished I had some duct tape to seal the irritating senseless stream of words leaving Jon's lips. He had literally no knowledge of the client I was dealing with, no idea of the problems I was facing and yet the pompous pedant seemed to be under the delusion that he knew exactly which of the company tenets would help me find the solution I was looking for.

I could see some duct tape placed almost carelessly on the far end of Chris's desk and it took all the resolve I possessed to not go and grab it and rush out to confront Jon. There! I had done it again. I was smiling and nodding on the outside while there was an unending echoing scream in my insides. I could feel the hot blood course through my veins. The nerve to the left of my temple had started to throb. It was unbearably painful. Didn't Chris understand I needed to calm down? Okay, so maybe that is what he meant by that comment of his. To drop it. Let it go.

Wasn't that the song in the Disney movie that won an Oscar? Let it go. Come to think of it how hard could it be to let the indignation just drop and fade away. Perhaps, dropping it would work better if I concentrated on something else to distract myself. The unnaturally bright shiny red apple on the far off table seemed like a good object to focus on. If I sunk my teeth into it would it be crunchy enough? I imagined the sweet juice tickling down my throat. Its sweetness as it seeps through me absorbing every shred of anger inside me. Had I managed to calm myself down or was it actually hysteria that I now felt?

The hour was up and Chris was signaling an end to our session. I had to choke down a giggle as I contemplated. Perhaps all that I need was a basket full of apples as the sure shot secret to anger management. Maybe next Tuesday I could ask Chris where he went apple shopping.

Writing class 2

Here is what I wrote for my second story writing assignment..

Was that the sound of the doorbell? It was still too early to be lunchtime. Had one of the kids come home early? Why were people in such a hurry these days. She would get to the door as fast as her tired aching legs would allow her. And these old shoes made walking even more difficult. Some days it felt like even the bones in her feet were hurting, but she did not feel like going all the way to the market to buy a new pair of shoes. So there was no way she would be able to hurry to the door.

One of the kids must have taken ill at school. Or had they landed themselves in trouble? Cynthia was too young for that sort of thing. But it could be Jake. No, he was a dear little boy and Kate was also so well behaved. She had seen her fair share of children and these kids weren't the kind to get into trouble. That was the doorbell ringing for the third time. Someone was in a real hurry. Patience is the biggest virtue. Maybe she could teach whoever was at the door this one thing if he had the time.

Whoever it was had already left it seemed. Thankfully it wasn't one of the kids then. Oh, but there was a package lying. The delivery guy didn't come during this time. And look at the package! It was all wrapped up. She would have to call and complain to the post office. The paper was crumpled and even appeared torn in places. These delivery boys were becoming very careless these days.

Well, she would have to go get her glasses to read what the tag on the package said. Maybe it was for Kate. Was the girl already old enough to have an admirer? Aah how times flies. It could also be that someone had ordered from those website shops. Even Cynth knew how to do that and she was so little. The whole evening Cynth had insisted on showing her shoes and asking her opinion on each of them. They were sweet kids, even though they repeatedly managed to cause havoc in their rooms.

Now where had she left her reading glasses. Must have left it in the girls' room when she was telling them the bedtime story. They must have heard the story a dozen times already. That meant they would still not be bored atleast for a dozen more reads. What a mess these girls had left there room in. She would try and clean up as much as she could. Just that she moved so slow because of these shoes. It would be time for everyone to be home before she would get everything in order here. Atleast her glasses were exactly where she thought it was.

Now to hobble back to the table where she had left the package. Would have been easier if she had brought it along with her. Now she would have to walk all the way. How exciting really, there was a package for someone. One of the kids was going to be very happy when they reached home.

What terrible handwriting, like the scribble of a child. Even with glasses she was having a hard time to read. Might as well open the curtains and get some sunlight.

Wait. Was she reading correctly? Ooh her dearest little ones.

"To the best nanny in the whole wide world. For all your birthdays we have missed, here is one big gift for you. Happy walking!"

Writing Class 1

Have been delaying for a while. This needed a post. Could delay no longer. So, my husband enrolled me in a fiction/short story writing class. First I was looking forward to it,  but quickly was oscillating between the excitement and the skepticism I felt. How can someone tell me, teach me what to write? Shouldn't it all come from within? And if it is just not there then how can he bring it out. If it is all in there then why do I need a class to bring it out?

Anyway after the class my thoughts are even more skeptical. I imagined the serious faces around me react to my declaring all i really want from this class is to be able to put into words my feelings for Arnav and Khushi (My IPK hero and heroine) . And maybe am over reacting or just reacting negatively but am worried that this should not feel like a serious thing with rules. A certain way of doing it the correct way. No. I want it to be fun and spontaneous and exciting. Madly compulsive. Rewarding. I want to write exactly the way I do now, just better, because there is always room for that right? And also so that all the people who read also enjoy as much as me. Compliments would be an added bonus in that sense.

We started with something that I think about writing. My answer - I want to write what I would like to read. And I like reading things which are not too heavy. It should have a certain lightness, love, adventure. Should be touching. Should be intelligent. (Hmm am not sure if a lot of the books I like fall in this genre, but sometimes a lot of the so called books for grown ups feel listless)

2 problem areas I want to tackle. My actual answer was an edited version - 
1. How would you start if you don't even have a story in your head. Lets say I want to write about Arnav and Khushi. If I don't have a story then how do i start. And I don't think that answer can come in a class. Actually even phrasing it this way makes me sound stupid I feel. Anyway this was my question.
2. I like reading mysteries and suspense. No idea where to start writing such a story.

Towards the end of the class we were given a prompt and ten minutes to write a short story of around 500 words. The prompt was -  You are worried and you take a walk in your neighborhood. You cross a house and see two people. This is what I wrote. I have kept it almost as I wrote it in the first draft. (P.S It didn't really make sense to write with so many strangers in one room facing each other across the table and being told that you need to write 'now'.)


It had been a tiring busy day. No time to do any of the things I liked doing the most. My head was too full of unwanted thoughts. Too much outside interference in my mind tonight. I knew the thoughts couldn't be pushed out so I decided to step out for a walk, hoping the clear night would clear my head as well.

I walked down the familiar quiet street of y neighborhood. There were hardly any clouds overhead. The sky was full of twinkling stars. Yet try as I might I could not get myself to calm down. To match the uneasiness in my head I picked up speed. I had lost track of all the turns I had taken.

As I went up a steep lane I noticed the house in front of me. It was white on the outside, newly painted. Pretty white flowers on the lush green climber were visible on its walls. It looked breathtakingly beautiful.

The lights were on and the curtains were open. The door suddenly flung open and a young woman came out. Even in the darkness, just by the light of the full moon I knew she was beautiful. She had a wide smile and a cup in her hand. I imagined it had hot tea in it. Her fingers gracefully curled around the cup as she sat down on the front steps of her house.

I stood still, watching, completely mesmerized. My breathless expectancy was rewarded because almost immediately a lean young man stepped out from the same open doorway. He wore a blue polo pullover. Short hair, angled bones. He looked young. His features were striking. The girl was looking up at the stars and had started to hum.

The man's face broke into a smile. It was like the first rays of sunshine had burst out from behind the clouds. His expression was tender as he went and sat down next to the girl. His eyes still on her. Never once had they moved away from her face.

The girl turned and with a lot of enthusiasm, her arms waving wildly, started talking. The man's smile had turned indulging. Was he smirking? His body was lazily stretched across those steps. He was relaxed, but something in the grace with which he held himself told me there was immense vitality within that lounging man. Now he was laughing too. His face looked years younger. Boyishly charming. His shoulders moved up and down to the rhythm of his laughter.

The girl hit her forehead with her palm. She was muttering something inaudible. Though I couldn't hear the words I knew she was delighted.

They looked so happy sitting on those steps laughing. They looked so much in love. I could feel myself smiling. This was happiness. My spirits lifted I decided to find my way back home and leave these two young people in love, in their own small little private world, untouched by the outside world. The cacophony of sounds in my head had died down. I felt brighter and lighter, a sense of peace. Was I glad that I had decided to take that walk!