Tell-a-Tale.....

I don't believe it when people say I have sad eyes.. I smile it away.. a bit of pain in it though.. I go back home, lock myself in my room.. stand in front of the mirror and check its reflection.. I don't see any sadness in them.. not anymore.. But next time I go out, I will just make sure that I don't forget my spectacle at home.. Ankita D.

Fear is arising within me. Not much time is left. The urge to run away and get off the radar amplifies day by day. But I cannot. I have crossed more than quarter of a century of my life and though I am content with it sometimes and saddened at the other end of it; this has become kind of an important work for some to find for me a suitable match soon enough. To fasten me, to tie up my soul.    A girl that I am, without a male companion of my own choice standing or holding my hands beside me or any potential match to find for myself in the near future, the kin decides to take charge and help me out by sieving out guys belonging to a good family, with a good gene pool (not mandatory, as looks can be deceptive), good figured salary et al. Until now I have managed to very casually but carefully laugh them off signalling that I am yet un-ready to entwine myself in that bond.  But it’s about time that I will be loaded with (motivational for them, off putting for me) talks...

I didn’t even remember the first time I had seen that guy. Maybe it was around 12 years ago when I was living in that suburb in Guwahati with my mom. Enormous changes had taken place since then. But I could never forget that guy somehow.   He wasn’t straight out of a Mills and Boon book as I had never liked those books. Maybe like a character from Jane Austen’s classic? Yeah, I was more into classics than those awfully romantic love stories. His eyes had a shine of innocence; his voice had a deep bass that could soothe you to the core. I was maybe standing at the grocery store that day with mother buying the usual products that a family needs every month when he walked into that shop in a hurry. He was friendly with the shopkeeper maybe, as he asked for a packet of krack-jack biscuits he also inquired about the shopkeeper‘s swollen leg.   Damn he was a charming guy! Tall and fair and a smile that could light up a thousand bulbs at once and no I am not exaggerati...

27 th October, the first time I witnessed the winter chills this year. It touched or rather attacked me with all its might when I was comfortably walking back my way home from office. My snug blackish grey T-shirt and denims couldn’t protect me. I had to brace myself against the darn cold winds and move on. Oh yes, I did feel it a day before 27 th too but then I was on a motor bike, riding as a pillion, returning back from a horribly terrible movie, 10 at night. It’s natural to think that it was a result of a paranoia that I suffer from while riding bikes. There, I said it; I am scared of sitting pillion on bikes. I have this terrible feeling that the moment the driver pushes the accelerator; I will roll back and fall down on the road.    Okay, I digressed from the point. So, as I was saying I felt that chill. And I didn’t enjoy it. I do not like winters. I hate the cold mornings, cold afternoons, cold everything! I hate to wear so many layers and getting lost undernea...

She was selfish. She wanted importance and attention from him, and of course, he gave it all to her. He was totally smitten with her. But still it couldn’t make her happy. Don’t know why she yearned for more. Every time he tried, it irritated her, if he didn’t, it hurt her. Maybe she was bipolar. She loved him. She tried her best, but it often happened that she used to lose interest mid way. She adored him. He was her only confidante; she never talked to anyone about anything but him. She admired his patience with her, but she still feigned interest in his talks. Maybe she was confused. It was long since they were together now. She used to think about future. Sometimes he was in it with her, sometimes he wasn’t. They argued about it. It used to lead to a few days of going without talking, but then they used to miss each other. Things were forgiven and forgotten. They would come back to normal. She would still love him. Maybe she was attached a lot to him. People use...

Sitting by her balcony, on a comfortable rocking chair, Aruni was appreciating the ever beautiful sunset through her eyes. It was going to be a week now that she had quit her job. She had never felt so relaxed in five years. Her life was this job. Actually, she had no other choice, it had to be. Though the orange sky kissing the darker brown horizon was nowhere to be seen, instead, all she could see was some tall buildings through which the bright sun was as if playing a game of hide and seek with her. She was enjoying it immensely just when Yashoda, her part-time maid brought her that steaming cup of ginger tea with oodles of milk and cream. She liked her tea that way. The smell of ginger mixed with the air and with the whiff of Yashoda’s mogre ka gajra was giving Aruni a heavenly feeling altogether. Sipping her hot tea she looked at her balcony. A small, cozy place with 3 potted plants; a rose shrub, a fir and dried tulsi plant. Some nylon ropes with clothespins ...

It always confused her. She did not know how to respond to these questions. She had never seen her father. It was just her ‘Ma’ and her since the events of her life had unfolded and left marks on her. She always wondered the root of questions like, “what does your father do?” or “what’s your father’s name” or “where is your father”. She simply did not know how to answer them. While on the primal stages of her life she would stare at her mother wondering what was going on who would save her from the horror and control the situation. Later on after gaining the insight about it, she would simply tell people what ‘Ma’ told her father used to do. Not having a father or father like figure never had bothered her, it didn't matter. ‘Ma’ was her life, her friend, philosopher her guide. Her whole life was centered around the women who bore her, gave birth to her and was with her on every recollection of her life. She used to see children her age with a man along with their mothers....