Tell-a-Tale.....

I don’t want chivalry . I don’t want him to open and hold the taxi door for me. I like gestures . I like when after getting on the cab he pulls up my side of the window a bit so that I don’t mess up my already messed up hair. I don’t want him to take the umbrella from my hand and hold it for me while we are walking in the rain; I would rather enjoy the rain a bit more if he holds it with my hands already on it while we try to battle the drops together. I won’t like it if he pays for my coffee or my food; I would be happier if we decided to go dutch on it or if he would let me get the check sometimes. Or better still if he treats me with a surprise ice-cream sundae afterwards. Gestures are important for me. Little things that he would notice. He won’t tell me, but it will show in his actions that he observed me. Maybe when he will offer me a handkerchief because he knows that I never ever carry one myself. Or voluntarily buys me that tub of mixed flavours of popcorn before the movi...

He arrived in like the wind that brings in the dark clouds which relieves from all that heat and dust and pours its heart into the world. Knowing him was like that pleasant breeze that touches you and leaves behind its fragrance upon you. Meeting him was like those times when you eagerly wait for those clouds to shower upon you. Talking to him was like the soft thunders which feel like music to your ears. Walking with him was like a stroll in the rain; getting drenched in him, with him. He brought with him, the monsoons.. the favourite season of mine. Really. Liking him was instant and inevitable. He came in with that child like smile and persona which took me back five years from my own existence. He charmed me with his constant chatter, for me, being such a devout listener. Every time the drops rolled down the sky, my heart fluttered, just like it did when it came to seeing him or meeting him. It was so ridiculous of me for setting my heart upon something so fleeting and...

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...