My stories

Letting it go - 1/3 Abha pulled into the parking of their house. She sat in her car for the next twenty minutes. She had topped her graduation exam and she had hoped that at least today, her parents would come to the college with her. Abha knew they wouldn't, but she still hoped that they would.  Like she had hoped when she got her 12th board exam result. But that time, Dadi was at home. Dadi had been the parent her parents never were. Abha had been a smart child and she usually sailed through all her exams. She always got the best of everything, except her parents' time or attention. Her parents were lawyers and they were always busy. When her parents were at home, they used to fight. Dadi used to take her to her room and her her stories when she was younger, and watched Netflix with her when she was older. Dadi learnt to make her favourite pasta and pizza. While Abha knew her house was different, she got enough love from her Dadi. When Dadi passed away after her boards, Abha

As the final guests left, Sharada closed the door and turned around to an empty home. The silence was deafening and the past few days had been a blur. Her husband had passed away peacefully in his sleep and while Sharada knew this was inevitable, it has still been very hard. As she stared at the walls, she realised that this was the first time in the past 75 years that she was truly alone. She turned to the kitchen to make tea and had to remind herself to make only one cup. It had been their routine for several years after he retired from his job to have afternoon tea together. He would read out the English newspaper to her, though she did learn English after marriage, she always enjoyed it when he read out the newspaper to her. The newspaper stared at her, and in the past few days, it had slipped her mind completely to discontinue it. She sent a message to the delivery boy to discontinue the newspaper from the next day. She looked at the newspaper and it was as if it weighed a few hun

“Good bye mum”, said the boy who was not a boy any more She put up a brave face, but her heart was heavy She knew this day would come, since the day she held him for the first time She had let him go, very reluctantly and only barely She turned around to face an empty house A house she spent twenty years making into a home She looked around and saw nothing but loneliness She clung to the memories, the memories they made together “Give him up for adoption”, they all said “A single mom, a scandal, a gossip, that’s all this will be. You are too naive, children need a family, they said You are an orphan yourself, no one to call your own” She struggled for days, she knew it was going to be hard But she wanted to cling on to this child The first person she could call her own ever in her life After spending a life in foster homes and orphanages He had been her joy and her pride Every reason to live to and to smile Things got better, she got a job and then a house The

“I hope you booked the tickets for the December trip”. “Uh huh” replied Rakesh distractedly. He had been poring over the newspaper all morning. It was a Sunday and that meant, he spent at least half an hour reading his favourite section, the horoscope. “You know, my sister and her family already booked their flight. It is my father’s 75th birthday celebration. It will be quite a shame if we are not able to go”, Neeta insisted. “Yes, I know but my horoscope tells me that I should avoid making any large expenses before 3 pm on Wednesday”
 He only heard clanging of utensils as a sign of her exasperation. He knew how annoying she found all these ideas and beliefs, but this is what made of major part of who he was. “You missed out on that job interview which would have paid you twice as much salary, only because you refused to travel on any vehicle on that day and walked instead. Only if I had known about this idiosyncrasies, I would have never agreed to marry you” Rakesh continued to rea

   Part 1    Anisha picked up the last few cups from the New Year’s party last night. They hosted one every year, and it was something all their friends looked forward to. Anisha and Kapil enjoyed hosting the party and spent days making sure the guests were entertained, well fed. As much as she enjoyed the party, she also enjoyed the quiet morning next day. Everyone was still asleep, and it was the perfect time to play some Ghazals from her favorite playlist. Holding a cup of steaming Kahwa, she walked to the window. It could have been yet another morning, but it felt special, there was a feeling of something new. It was a new year after all. ‘Beep’ suddenly the song was interrupted with a sound. She had taken the trouble to mute her WhatsApp. She knew her phone storage would not forgive her at the end of the day. She was, after all, a part of several groups including family groups, society ladies group, some random cooking group, kids’ school groups and some that she didn’t know

There are a few places that invoke a feeling of dread within me. You know that feeling you get when you are alone in a room and cold air blows on your spine. Dentist’s clinic is surely one. Beauty parlors are another. I detest going to either places and make all kinds of Herculean efforts to avoid going to either. Even if it means researching on the net for hours looking for ways to make the pearlies whiter, or splurging on all kinds of flossing, brushing stuff from all over  the world. And in case of parlors, just plain denial most of the times. “I don’t really need to go through painful ripping of hair on my body just to wear a skirt! I can just NOT wear a skirt or a pair of shorts. I can go through the Indian summers wearing more clothes than someone would in a temperate winter”. I do land up sometimes taking the boy for his monthly hair cut. Luckily, the daughter is too vain about her genetically fabulous hair and doesn’t cut it. But the boy loves having his hair cut really sh