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Showing posts from May, 2009


Continued from previous post…… The empty bed haunts me. His fragrance still lingers .He still smiles in the photographs. I wait for him to come back home. The little angel has started walking. But he is not around. Not anymore. This thought kills me. I feel as if he would come out of the blue and cry," Surprise ! " and chukle with his dimpled smile. I so wish he were here- supporting his Shweta on her feet. How he loved being with her ! I was in my second trimester. Tushar complained of constant headache and double vision. I initially brushed it off saying ,"Its time you take to glasses”. But things didn’t improve. The MRI scan report was a bolt from the blue. “Raj,what is the prognosis ?” I demanded. He made me sit and asked me to calm down. He began,"I think we must immediately start the treatment. In fact right now. Bhai, get ready for a surgery.” I interrupted him ,"Raj, give me the prognosis”. He replied, without mincing words, “ Boss, you need to be stron


Continued from previous post…. It was the most uncomfortable moment of my life then. He took things in stride by mumbling a hello. I responded feebly. The rest of the evening I was forced to stay near him. I never ever thought in the wildest of my dreams that Anita could be Tushar’s sister. I couldn’t even feign work and leave early. Raj and the other patients would certainly find that strange. I had seen Tushar with Anita together. Tushar never told he had a family. Perhaps not even to Di. Raj took me out of my reverie and I was relieved to leave the place. Anita often came to meet Raj to the foundation hospital. She seemed to be a balanced person. I often wondered if she would ever talk about Tushar – the man I hated the most. It was sooner than I expected. Anita and Raj had joined me for lunch in my cabin. Anita casually told about her past, her brother, her meeting with Raj and the things that followed. She had lost her mother in childhood. Her father remarried but practically she


Continued from previous post… Seven years. Seven years of work, sorrow and struggle had tested Shweta Foundation. Shweta Foundation was a non-profit body working for the cause “Life with Dignity”. Every human being is entitled to die with respect. We helped the victims of natural calamities, accidents, people surviving with incurable diseases like cancer and AIDS to live cheerfully till their last breath. I had left my plum job seven years ago and started this organization. I knew it would never provide me with a luxurious lifestyle but nevertheless I knew I was doing some meaningful work. At times I would have no money to make both ends meet but something miraculous would happen then. That strengthened my resolve further. We had people of all age groups. They knew they had a short time to live but their courage and cheer inspired me. They taught me lessons for life. My mother died of heart attack a few months after Di’s death. Dad moved in with me but he too died in his sleep two year


Continued from previous post….. It was a bit awkward but my constant chatter made it lively as well. Shweta Di ,Tushar and me –the three of us had a good time that night. Later Di was to tell me it was ‘their’ first date. Shweta Di was my sister, mentor, friend-all rolled into one. Dad was posted in the Gulf nations since many years. We sisters were put into boarding school when I was nine and Mom joined dad thereafter. So I always ran to my sister to solve my problems. She was clear-headed, lovable and a perfect human being. I was rebel. I always knew I have someone to fall upon. But nevertheless I always tried to be like her. Its another matter that I never suceeded.At least then. Tushar and Di were colleagues. According to Di, Tushar was a fierce professional. Reserved, razor sharp intellect, the one who remained aloof most of the time. Di herself was a plaid and simple looking girl next door. She was not as stiff as Tushar. When I asked her why had she tagged me along, she replied,


I woke up in his arms. He was sleeping peacefully. He looked happy. Perhaps he was smiling in his dreams. I slipped out of bed quietly and headed to the terrace. I saw the sun rise. It was an enthralling experience. I was on a holiday after a really long time. The little bungalow was situated on a hilltop amidst the forest. The exquisite beauty of the surroundings is beyond description. Even poetry would fail here. I was lost in such thoughts when familiar arms engulfed me with passion and elegance, his head resting on my shoulders. “Good Morning”, he whispered in my ears. I smiled and wished him back. As I turned to him, he somewhat loosened his grip but again came back to his former self. “So trekking today ?” he asked. I just managed to say a yes. Just then, the housekeeper came with two buckets of water and my dear husband regained his composure. We were ready to explore the forest after a warm bath and a light breakfast. It was a crunchy, chilly morning but we were at ease. It was


MY LIFE AND TIMES will be a year old on 26th of this month. Blogging has been my greatest pleasure since then. I would like to thank my countless (?) readers who have added to my experience on bloggerville. A huge thank you to all of you ! Why I blog ? #It’s a good pastime (lol...I guess it’s a lot more) #I get to read some real good posts (and take cues) #I get to read some crap posts too( no offence meant-actually they enhance my positive self esteem :D) #My friends and relatives see me in a new light here ( After all, now they know that I’v some good qualities too :D ) #I made some good blogger friends with whom I can have fun. I’m sure many of my loyal readers are still reading. For them, there will be a treat on the D-day. ( Don’t raise your expectations sky high-its just a post - no awards/interviews/guest posts ). But I’ll give my best to fill your time with a good read. I was turning the pages of my personal diary today and I found this. This is for you, my dearest blog (my


I know it was you, following me all along. I don’t need eyes to see you. It started raining and I paced up. You were anxious about me.You offered me your umbrella with your face hidden.Only if you had understood me ! I never said those three words, but I thought you knew. P.S 1:My first attempt at 55 fiction. P.S : A real big thank you to all blogger friends who made my birthday "A day to remember".


E ver since you went, C hoosing roses has been painful. H ustling into an empty room, O vercoming you is impossible. E very evening I feel you’re S inging me the tunes I so loved. O ften I see the bird you tamed, F illing the air with rancour, just like you did. S hadows of night soothe my wounds; I still catch your glimpse in my dreams. L oving you all over again, E nraptured by your sweet nothings. N ebulous memories keep me afloat, C rushing all realities, I lie E namoured , smitten by our brief encounters .


CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS POST… Eighteen months later…. I was beginning to like my work. It was a challenge sometimes. I had learnt to go beyond boundaries. The dreams which had eluded me once, were dawning as reality now. I had my taste of success and as they say nothing succeeds like success. I had developed a knack for solving my own problems. One day , I chanced by a couple who were seated in a corner of the quaint little coffee shop. I couldn’t believe my eyes…. Divya and Sandip…here of all places. I couldn’t help but confront them. Divya was warmer than ever before and Sandip… I knew he was feeling a bit coy..its so typical of him. But I was more than surprised when he asked me to join them. Though I didn’t refuse, they found me going after five minutes. I invited them for lunch on Sunday. It was a fine Sunday morning and my guests were sharp on time. Divya offered me help in the kitchen and I chose not to refuse. My books kept Sandip busy. She could read my mind and went on with h


Its not always that I feel like writing my experiences on paper.Unless there is a headache of sorts. These days I feel so very lonely,unable to confide my secrets with anyone-I seriously need a break. Here goes the bell. I knew I wouldn’t be at peace ever. An invitation. A wedding invitation. My friend’s wedding. I guess this was the break I needed. A not-so–happening job profile, fear of being axed out anytime and the worst part- ever increasing EMIs. I wish I hadn’t come out of home-into a strange city-perhaps I was blinded by its glamour. But what has been done can’t be undone. I’m at home. Its Divya’s wedding today. She’s my next door neighbour and a friend. A sweet simple girl, with whom you could chatter playfully for a while. Not like those opportunistic morons in the city. She has just finished her masters. Her fiancee is a medico. I’m sure she’ll have a great life ahead-she has typical small towny, girly, domestic dreams. She looks marvelous today. Her family is in a fr