Image result for image of shower in bathroom

It was his first day at the new job and he wanted to be on time. So a shower at 7.00 AM in winter did not seem too early. He looked around for his towel from among the heap of “yet to be unpacked” clothes from his suitcase. The flat was a mess…! The previous occupant, had left it with a lot of packing material still strewn around the place. And the landlord had done nothing to have it cleaned before handing over the key to his new tenant.

“ I need to spend the weekend getting it cleaned up” he thought as he shut the bathroom door.

The geyser was thankfully functional. He turned on the hot water  and stepped under the shower. It felt good…! He could feel the tension ebbing out of him. He closed his eyes and started to slowly whistle  a tune…!

And then suddenly he heard someone humming the same tune.. It was a soft female voice! He stopped whistling but the voice continued.

He turned off the water and listened carefully.

The singer had completed the “mukhda” and was now on the “antra” .

The steam in the bathroom began condensing over his body and he started shivering….!!

“ I wonder who was that who was singing?” he thought as he quickly toweled himself and got out of the bathroom.

“Nice voice though” he thought as he put on his clothes.

When he got back home in the evening, he was completely tiered. It had been a long day. He had ordered some dinner online. He needed to change out of his work clothes before it arrived.

As he went towards the bathroom he suddenly remembered the singing. He wondered if he would hear her again.

Well, there was only one way to find out. He started whistling a very popular tune. He  got through a couple of lines and waited. Nothing!!!

Okay so he was unlucky!! Maybe at 7.00 AM again tomorrow?

Just as he finished washing his face, she started singing… ! She finished a stanza and stopped.  He waited for minute before he resumed whistling!

The door bell was ringing…! He  rushed out to open the door and collect his dinner.

As  he was getting his plate and cutlery together, he thought again about this woman/ girl who was singing so sweetly. Obviously someone who lived a floor above or below him. The sound was getting amplified through the narrow drainage chute that ran between the walls .

Well he meant to find out more about her.

But finding out was not as easy as he thought it would be. In a ten storeyed building with seven flats on each floor, it was difficult to zero in on exactly which flat was the one that housed the singer.

He tried asking the security guard. But the fellow seemed to be an extra ordinary  kind of moron. He tried looking up the names of the occupants that was displayed in the  lobby on the ground floor . But he knew that this would be a cold lead because most of the occupants in that building were tenants.

There was ofcourse the option of asking the secretary of the flat owners association. However that was not an option that appealed to him. And anyway what would he ask? “Who is the girl who lives above/below my flat that sings so beautifully in her bathroom?” They would probably think he was some kind of a creep or a peeping tom interested in women inside bathrooms! As it is, it had been very difficult for a single young man like him  to get an apartment in the city.

And meanwhile the jugalbandi ( if we may call it so ) continued. He found she was partial to Asha Bhonsle numbers. And they both loved Asha’s 70s numbers! They had worked out a pattern. The “performances” lasted for half an hour in the morning starting 7.00 AM. In the evenings it began at 7.30 and went on until he went breathless with whistling!!

On weekends, however it was difficult to keep up this schedule and it became quite random. 12.30 in the afternoon sometimes, 3.00 PM sometimes and sometimes not at all.

At the risk of living inside his bathroom for the complete weekend, he had to finally come to terms with the fact that she had probably gone out somewhere.

He had almost decided one morning to say “Hi” and introduce himself after a bout of whistling. But it was exactly at that moment  he heard another neighbour make loud gargling noises inside his bathroom. So, this space, he realized  was not exactly private.. and the “performance” probably had a wider unintended audience than he had imagined.

It was most frustrating!!

Nearly three months of hearing her sing and he had no inkling as to who she was!!

He took to observing his female neighbours closely every time he got an opportunity.  But unfortunately for him opportunity only yielded elderly ladies. He was sure it wasn’t one of these “Auntys”.  To be doubly sure he took to wishing them “Namaste” “Good morning” “Good evening” so that he could hear their voices as they wished him back.

Winter gave way to summer and hot showers became cold ones… But he was still clueless about who she was. But by now he had kind of narrowed down the source of the singing to two flats. He began thinking about excuses he could use to knock on the door and find out who lived there

He could pretend to be a salesman or maybe a visitor looking for an address. But all of that seemed rather lame to him.  He needed to come up with something really good.

These thoughts continued to obsess him the moment he left his office. He wished he could share it with someone. But being the introvert that he was, he couldn’t imagine how he would go about doing it. People would probably think it was extremely ridiculous.

“I have to come up with a good plan” he thought as he stepped into the elevator that evening. But before he could press the button for his floor the elevator started going up. Someone upstairs had beat him to it!!

He was lost in his thoughts when the elevator stopped on the seventh floor. As the door opened, he saw a huge suitcase obstructing his vision. There was a short , petite girl who was trying to manoeuvre her way into the elevator with the suitcase. He reached out absent mindedly and helped her with it. She smiled at him and pressed the button for the ground floor.

The doors closed as they stood silently in the cramped space with the suitcase between them. They had six floors to go down.

He started drumming his fingers on the wall of the elevator and began  to whistle involuntarily. Was it his imagination or did her eyes widen?

The elevator was on the second floor when she began humming the tune.

It now his turn to stare.!

The elevator hit the ground floor. There seemed to be an army of people waiting to get in. Someone helped the girl with her suitcase as she stepped out. He tried to push his way out but there were too many people inside the elevator. The doors closed and he found himself  going up .

It was about five minutes later that he finally made his way back to the ground floor. He looked around the lobby. It was empty!

He ran out towards the gate. A moving van was making its way out . He pointed at it and asked the security guard if he knew whether anyone was moving in or out. The chap seemed to take an awfully  long time before he said “the madam on the seventh floor has vacated her flat”.

He felt very low as he made his way back to the lobby and took the elevator to his floor. He let himself in and sat quietly in the darkness for how long he did not know…!

He must have fallen asleep because it was nearly ten in the night when he woke up with a start to hear his  door bell ringing.

He opened the door to find the security guard standing there.

“Yes?” he asked him impatiently.

“Sir, this is for you. When you were walking towards the gate this evening,  the seventh floor lady who was moving out, asked me to give this to you. But you see, she didn’t tell me your flat number or your name. So I  had to ring almost everyone’s door bell in the building  before I found you” said the guard

He looked for his wallet and gave the chap a ten rupee note before he took it from him-  a small scrap of paper on which was written in a sloping hand  “Nita-7782101921” .


( The word Jugalbandi means, literally, “entwined twins.” Jugalbandi is a performance in Indian classical music,  that features a duet of two solo musicians. The duet can be either vocal or instrumental.)






A Moment in Time

Scented Flower Seeds Parijaat Or Harsingar - Small Ornamental Tree With Fragrant White Flowers Heat Resistant Flower Seeds Seeds Kitchen Garden Seeds Pack By Creative FarmerIt was a windy night…. My hair was blowing across my face. It was difficult to see anything clearly. I sensed that I was at a river bank by the dampness in the air and the soft gurgling sound of water.

The moon was playing hide and seek in the clouds.  The ground was grassy and damp with dew and there was the unmistakable fragrance of parijat flowers hanging in the air.

I closed my eyes and breathed  deeply, taking in the fragrance.

Where was this? How did I get here?

And then I heard it… the most melodious sound ever….! A flute playing.

I walked along the banks of the river , cutting through the velvety darkness towards the sound using my ears to guide me. What was the  tune  I wondered.. ? It seemed so familiar yet  so mysterious. My feet felt cool as they sank into the damp grass.

And then suddenly the surroundings lit up. I looked up at the sky. The moon was beautiful and silvery in a way I have never seen before. It seemed just a touch away.

The music sounded closer …. I walked faster and faster…. until I saw him!

Silhouetted against the moonlight under the Parijat tree sat the flutist. He was dark and muscular . His  curly hair blowing in the wind as his  lips and fingers made magic out of  a  bamboo stick.

He seemed to sense my presence as he opened his eyes – the most beautiful pair that I have ever seen,  almond shaped ,with long eye lashes.

And then I felt the universe lighting up as he slowly parted his lips and smiled at me.

“Come here” he said extending his hand towards me. I grasped those long fingers looking at them with wonder.  He pulled me on to carpet of Parijat flowers lying on the ground. I stumbled , missing my step,  falling clumsily on his lap

His skin felt cool and smooth. I could sense the sinewy muscles under it.

“Who are you?” I asked as I rested my head on his broad shoulders.

“The one who you have been seeking” he said with a laugh.

“ Really? I do not remember” I said in wonder.

“ Think…..!  haven’t I always been on your mind?  Don’t you speak to me wordlessly” he asked again.

His breath was now on my face and it was driving me crazy. I felt my senses race as I closed my eyes.

His fingers were  moving my hair off my face. His breath tickled my ears as he whispered


Sakhi… friend! Who was he? I do not remember ever having a male friend much less communicating wordlessly with him.

My senses were playing havoc with my thoughts. I felt his fingers caress my neck. Every part of my being was now tingling!

His face was very close to mine now and as I opened my eyes I became a prisoner.. lost in the depths of his eyes. I moved my hands over  his face feeling the perfection of his bones. His hair was soft and I buried my fingers in them.

“What are we doing?” I whispered , bringing my face close to his.

“Celebrating our love” he said .. his sensuous lips almost on mine.

Is this love, I wondered? This yearning for something,.. for  someone?

Was I capable of igniting love in anyone I wondered? I have always been told that I was cold, unemotional, and unremarkable in every way.

“Love is not about the physical form” he said reading my thoughts. “ Love is the inner beauty, a divine light. Few people can see it”

“Can you see it” I asked him in wonder

“ I can see everything Sakhi. The inside, the outside, the real and the false” he said smiling at me.

“ When did you start loving me?” I asked him.

“ When you were entered this universe” he said with a laugh

“ You knew me when I was born? How old are you?” I asked in wonder

“ Oh, I am old.. and also young. It depends on how you see me” he said.

“ How should I see you?” I asked him

“That is up to you. I can be your friend, your lover,  your protector. I am part of you.” he said

“ Will you come with me?” I asked him getting up and trying to pull him

“ You don’t have to ask me that because I have always been with you and will continue to be with you ? Your welfare is my concern ” he said looking into my eyes

“Really? How will I know” I asked

“Oh you will know” he said smiling at me before taking up the flute once again. I closed my eyes as strains of Raag Bhairavi filled the air.

The wind was blowing gently now. My eyelids were drooping with sleep. The smell of parijat filled the air as I sank my head into the softness of his shoulders.

The music stopped after some time and the last words I heard were his as they whispered into my ears “Sleep in peace dear friend. I am awake”


It was 6.00 AM and the alarm was shrieking!! .  I got up from the bed and looked at my husband’s  sleeping form beside me.  Some people would call him overweight placid and middle aged. The same people would probably also call me skinny  and shrewish.

We were the typical middle class  Indian couple who plodded through life working diligently at boring nine to five jobs to make enough money to build on their material dreams- paying for home loans, car loans, saving for their child’s education and their old age.

“Well life beckons” I thought as I went into the bathroom and squeezed toothpaste on to my brush.

I looked at the woman staring at me out of the bathroom mirror. Who was she? She seemed like a stranger. Why was her skin so flushed and her hair so wild? The grey strands seemed invisible in the light reflecting off the mirror.

What had happened to her during the night?, I wondered as I combed my hair and knotted it in place. Middle aged fantasies I suppose, coming out the desire to hold on to a fast ebbing youth …

I went back to the bedroom  and  started to wake  up my husband. He turned around with a groan and pulled the covers over his head. I gave up and  started tidying up my side of the bed.

And then just as I moved the pillows I saw  them  ……….. a handful of  parijat flowers strewn  below!


(Nyctanthes arbor-tristis (Night-flowering Jasmine), known commonly as the parijat, is a species of Nyctanthes nativeto South Asia and Southeast Asia. It  is a shrub or a small tree growing to 10 m (33 ft) tall, with flaky grey bark.)





The Co Passenger ( Concluding part)


Image result for Indian girl sitting by train windowPriya woke up when she heard the local commuters asking her to move so they could sit down. She sat up on her seat and looked out. It was nearly 7.00 AM. The train was slated to reach Mumbai by the afternoon. She took out her phone from her hand bag. There were two missed calls from her father.

“Oh God. what is it now” she thought worriedly as she dialled back. Her father picked up almost immediately

“Priya, what is this I hear?” asked her father

“What have you heard?” asked Priya wondering whether it was Smita or Srikant who had spoken to her parents.

“Smita told us all about what that husband of yours has been doing to you! How come you never told us anything about this?” he asked

‘I wasn’t sure how you would take it’ she muttered.

“What did you take us for. Do you think, we are the sort of parents who would force you back into an unhappy marriage” he asked her angrily.

She could have hugged him for that, had he been in front of her!

“Listen, you mother and I are both coming to Mumbai by this afternoon flight. We should be at Smita’s house by early evening. We will discuss the matter in detail there. Smita told me she knows of some good lawyers who can help with the divorce. Meanwhile stay calm. All will be well” he said before hanging up.

All will be well… wasn’t that also what Nandini had said? She looked for Nandini on the opposite berth. There seemed to be no trace of her.

“Where is the lady on that seat” she asked the woman on the upper berth.

“What lady? I do not remember seeing anyone here except you and the two vendors in the next bay” said the woman.

She wondered if Nandini was in the toilet or had moved to some other part of the coach. She made her way  up to the end of the compartment but there was no trace of her.

“I guess she must have got down en route” thought Priya.  It was funny how she had not actually told her where she was going. All she had said was she was going “home”.

Priya wondered where that was. She had said that her brothers had not accepted her back at their place. Did she mean that she was going back to her husband? She hoped not. But what else would “home” mean?

She felt guilty about not showing more empathy towards Nandini. Maybe she could have asked to come along with her. But she was so caught up in her own grief and psychological trauma that no one else’s pain seemed to matter.

The train was approaching a station. She decided she would get down there, find a tap and wash her face. The toilet inside the train looked too dirty to be used.

The train was pulling into the Daund junction. She requested the lady sitting next to her to watch her suitcase as she got down at the station. The ladies waiting room was just opposite her coach.

She quickly went in, used the toilet and washed her face, using the wet tissue from her bag to clean herself up as best as she could. She combed her hair and went back into the platform. There was a boy selling newspapers. She bought an English newspaper from him and made her way towards the coach.

The engine was hooting as she hurried into the coach, making her way toward her seat. She took out the newspaper scanning through the pages. It was the Gulbarga edition of the paper. Lot of local news. Even the political news appeared to be very local.

She was just going to turn the page when a photograph caught her attention. A small black and white picture of a young woman who seemed eerily familiar with a tiny write up below it “A  28  year old woman identified as Nandini Reddy committed suicide by throwing herself under the Udyan express near Adoni yesterday. Police are investigating”

Priya’s hands froze. If this was true, then who had boarded the train yesterday?

Who was the Nandini who had encouraged her to believe in herself and boosted her the confidence to make an important decision regarding her life?

The wind was blowing strongly through the window and before she could stop it, the page detached itself from the rest of the newspaper and flew out of the window. Priya tried to catch it but it was too late.

Did she imagine it or was that Nandini’s profile that she saw for a split second resting against the window opposite? And yes.. what was it that she had said ……?

“All will be well”


( Image from the internet)



The Co Passenger


Related imageIt had been raining incessantly when she had boarded the train. Priya squeezed the water off her dupatta as she made her way into the coach. For an unreserved coach it was almost empty. But then who would board a 11.00 PM train at a way side station past Yellahanka? Anyway by now, she was beyond caring!

It had been a sudden decision. She had decided to take the train from the station nearest to her house rather than ride to the Bangalore city station. She wanted to escape, to run away… from her life… from him!

She found an empty seat by the window. Thankfully, the rain had not splashed into the coach. She drew up the shutter and let some fresh air in. The rain had stopped and the moon was peeping out of the clouds. She watched the dark shadows rise and fall as the train sped through the darkness.

Like her life… Full of eerie shadows that she ensured people outside in the sun never saw. She maintained that facade of living in cool comfort. A bright smile that stopped short of her eyes Hollows behind those eyes she concealed using expensive make up.  She adjusted herself to lean against the backrest of the seat but winced as the pain hit her! Bruises, scars and more. her body was now full of them! It had become a part of her life these days.

It was only tonight that she had decided she had had enough! But, even now she was not so sure. And that was the reason she had boarded the train to Mumbai and not the one to Chennai.

Her cousin Smita, had encouraged her to come and spend some time with her at Mumbai to think things over. She had always been nervous about going to Chennai – to her parents. She feared they might not see things from her perspective.

The train jerked to a sudden halt throwing her forward. She held on to the window rails to steady herself.

The lady on the upper berth looked down and asked her “What happened?”

“I don’t know” said Priya as she peered out of the window.

There was hardly anyone else on the coach. There were a couple of women in the next bay who looked like they were some kind of vendors. They were fast asleep with their basket of wares under the seat.

There seemed to be a flurry of activity near the engine. The guard and the driver were talking among themselves. She tried to catch what they were saying.

“Woman.”  “under the train” were some words that caught her ears.

She shuddered thinking “How awful”!

There seemed to a discussion going on near the tracks.  Apparently they were near some station called Adoni. Priya did not want to hear any more of this conversation. She pulled the shutter down and lay down on the berth. She had packed in a hurry, there was nothing she could use as a pillow. So she tucked her handbag under her head and turned around so that the bruised part of her back was not rubbing against the wall of the coach.

She must have dozed for about an hour when she woke up. The train was in motion now.

She wanted to use the bathroom. She wondered if she should go with her suitcase left unattended. But the train was in motion and everyone else on the train seemed to be asleep.

When she came back to her seat, she noticed her. A young woman, about as old as herself, she was sitting on the opposite seat. Her face was not clearly visible in the dark. She had on a sari which seemed to be glowing in the dark. Her hair was flying in the breeze blowing in through the window.

“When did you get into the train?” asked Priya

“Oh some time ago” she replied in Kannada, looking at Priya through her wide eyes. There seemed to be an odd quality about them. They were looking at her but yet it seemed like they weren’t. Her face had a luminous quality about it.

“What a beautiful woman” thought Priya taking in her features. A big bindi adorned her forehead and prominently around her neck was the black bead chain symbolising her married status.

“Where are you going?” asked the woman

“To Mumbai” replied Priya. “What about you”? she asked

“Home” said the woman.

Priya sat down on the seat and groaned involuntarily as the jerking of the train made her bruised back hit the window.

“Painful isn’t it?” she asked.   “That wound will heal but not the one in your mind. At least not unless you decided to do something about it” she continued.

Priya looked at the woman startled.  How did she know?

“What do you mean?” she asked her

“You know what I mean” she said with a sad smile.

Priya could not stop herself. Her eyes began welling up with tears and she suddenly found herself holding on to the window rails and sobbing.

“Hey stop that. Crying never helps.” she said softly pulling Priya into her arms. It was probably a few minutes before Priya regained control over herself.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t do this” she said wiping her face with her dupatta.

“There is no need to apologise” the woman said.

“You know; I had tried everything to make him happy. I stopped wearing western clothes, I learnt cooking, I never ever stepped out without his consent” she said bitterly.

“Yes, I know. You must have also thought a lot before saying anything in case it angered him. You would have stayed out of his way until he called for you. Right?” asked the woman.

“How do you know?” asked Priya looking at the woman in surprise.

“Because I have also lived through it all” said the woman with a cryptic smile.

“Oh!” said Priya gasping

“You know I was barely out of school when my parents arranged my marriage. He was a very rich man. Owned a lot of businesses and was considered to be quite a catch. I was anyway not very good at studies. So marriage seemed like a good way out of it. I was the only daughter. My parents and my brothers spent an awful lot at my wedding. It was one of the grandest weddings in the whole of Anantpur district” she said dreamily.

“Well in my case, I had completed my education and was working in an IT company in Bangalore. He was introduced to me through a common friend” said Priya

“Oh love marriage” asked the woman looking at her with raised eyebrows.

“Marriage yes! But love. well that disappeared a few months into the marriage. I never realized that he was so domineering and authoritative. It used to be very romantic during the days when we were courting. I used to think he was very protective and possessive about me.  But soon things became bad. He did not like me talking to anyone he did not approve of, he did not like me wearing jeans, trousers or skirts. He was suspicious of any man I spoke to and soon he did not like my going for work” Priya said bitterly.

“And you decided to quit your job?” she asked

“Yes” replied Priya.

“You know, how many times in those years when he started yelling and hitting me, I used to think, that had I been better qualified and with a job I would have walked out of the marriage” said the woman looking at Priya

“Yes, but it is not so easy to walk out even if you are qualified for a job. I did consider it many times. But there was always a feeling of guilt. Of not having tried hard enough to make the marriage work. You know I have only been married for two years. I thought things would get better over time. “said Priya shaking her head sadly.

“Well I was married for ten years. Among the many things he had against me was that I had not brought enough dowry, I was not able to have children, I did not respect his mother enough, I did not put enough salt or put too much salt into his food, that I was not sexually desirable and sometimes even that I was probably interested in other men and therefore not responding to him in bed” she said laughing hysterically.

Priya shuddered thinking of the strange similarity in their circumstances. Two women from two different places and social contexts and yet with such a similar marriage.

“You know I secretly started taking birth control pills after the first year into the marriage. I did not want any child to be conceived out of rape. And then he found out…He was so violent after that I couldn’t take it. I ran to my brother’s house” said the woman.

“And?” asked Priya

“They closed their doors on me. I am sure had my parents been alive I would have at least had a roof over my head” said the woman bitterly

Priya thought about her own circumstances. She had not told her parents about what she was going through. There was this feeling of wanting to handle her situation on her own because it was she who had decided to marry Srikant. She also had a younger sister and she was not sure if her troubled marriage would interfere with sister’s prospect of getting married.

But something in her had snapped when she found out he was having an affair.

“You know my husband has been seeing another woman for nearly six months now” said Priya to the woman.

“Oh mine was constantly having relationships with women- those who worked for him, relatives, sex workers and others” said the woman. “After some time I was actually glad he was doing that because it kept him out of the house and our bed for at least a few hours every day”

This seemed like some bizarre situation now.  Each one of them sharing things about their respective marriages almost like they were comparing symptoms about some terrible illness.

Did you have fever? Vomiting? Stomach cramps…?

No, I had fever but the stomach cramps were terrible.

Oh, but the vomiting dehydrated me…!

“Patients of the sick marriage syndrome” said Priya laughing loudly.

“Listen tell me what are you going to do now?” asked the woman taking Priya’s hands in hers.

“I don’t know. I will spend some time with Smita, my cousin in Mumbai and then I hope he will repent and come there to take me back” said Priya.

‘Then?” asked the woman

“By then, hopefully he would have repented, broken off with the other woman and changed his behaviour towards me.” Said Priya

“Let me tell you my dear. That is something that never happens. I have been through this many times. When my parents were alive, I would go there every few months when things became unbearable and they would either take me back to him or he would sometimes come to take me back saying he was sorry. But it is easier said than done. Things got back to our state of violent normalcy soon” said the woman.

“You had never called the police?” asked Priya

“Did you?” asked the woman

Priya shook her head. There was a sense of shame in taking the matter to a public space. Why, she had not even, told her closest of friends about this. When he had twisted her arm the last time she had asked him for more housekeeping money, she had lied to the doctor saying she had fallen down and injured herself.

“Have you considered divorce?” asked the woman.

“No.” said Priya shaking her head slowly

“When will you do that? When you are ten years into this mess like me? When you are completely scarred physically and psychologically? When your qualifications will not be relevant in the job market and you will have to take a job that will pay you half of what you might get now? Or when you are too old to consider further education?”  asked the woman in a sarcastic voice

“Listen to me. It has to be now or never. Nothing is lost yet. You are well qualified. You can get a better job. You said you have a supportive cousin in Mumbai. You can stay with her until you get a job” she said taking Priya’s hands in her own. “Don’t let your life become like mine. I had few choices. I was not well educated. I came from a small town where there were limited opportunities. My parents died along the way and my brothers refused to support me. I could have changed things even with these setbacks had anyone encouraged me to take that first bold step forward.”

Priya could see sense in what that woman was telling her.  But she needed to think more about it.

“Thank you for this….” She said. “By the way I am Priya”

“Nandini” said the woman. The clouds had cleared and the moon was shining in through the window making Nandini’s face shine luminously.

“You are such a beautiful woman!  You look out of this world!” said Priya. Nandini smiled in a cryptic way.

“Go to sleep Priya. Things will work out for you. I am sure you will take a sensible decision and all will be well.” she said taking her hand and squeezing it.

Priya nodded noticing for the first time that Nandini’s hands were icy cold.

She lay down on her berth and closed her eyes. Her last image of Nandini was a sharp profile turned towards the widow with hair flying in the breeze.

( To be concluded in the next part – work in progress )

( Images from the internet)

Endings and Beginnings

Ajay looked at his watch. It was almost 7.00 PM. He was well in time for the 7.15 local.

It had been a hard day at work, with a tough deadline to meet! Despite it being a Saturday, and a half working day he had had to stay back. He was now looking forward to a relaxed Sunday. He hoped to catch a movie with some friends. But it was more easily said than done. Nowadays most of his friends preferred to spend time with their wives and girlfriends.

“Well that is a price one pays for being too focused on one’s career and not devoting enough attention to settling down ” his sister had told him when he had complained to her about this. After that, he had decided to keep quiet. As it is, all his female relatives seemed to be working overtime to get him “settled”! Not that he was against the idea of marriage. But it was just that none of the candidates that they had come up with so far were interesting enough for him to consider giving up his freedom. And the shy young man that he was,, he had never had the confidence to ever approach a girl on his own.

Well, one had to live with some problems he thought to himself as he felt the rumbling of the train and got ready to board. Thankfully, being a Saturday evening on what was essentially an office train route, the train was not crowded. He took his pick of the carriage and hopped into a near empty one.

“Thank God for small mercies” he murmured as he settled down on a seat by the window. The cool evening breeze hit his sweaty face as the train picked up speed. He took out a book from his bag and started reading from where he had left off. He hoped to finish it by tonight.

It was about two stations down that he noticed the couple standing by the door. They had probably boarded the train at the previous station. He could not see the young man’s face but the girl was facing him. She was slightly built – thin and petite with her hair tied up in a pony tail. Her large and beautiful eyes were swollen and red. He could see tears streaming down her cheeks.

The young man was talking “Look here Sumi, there is no point in crying like this. It is not going to change anything”.

She said something in a muffled voice that was lost in the noise of the train. And then she began sobbing!

Ajay’s attention was now completely drawn to the scene that was unfolding in front of him. He closed the book and eavesdropped unashamedly.

“Sumi, life is not a movie or a romance novel. We have to consider practical aspects. My parents want me to marry this girl. There are family priorities that I have to take into account” said the fellow.

“Didn’t these priorities exist when you started wooing me? When you wrote those letters to me, took me out for lunch and dinner?” asked the girl. Her damp eyes were now flashing anger.

“Sumi, how many times do I have to tell you that I still love you. I still mean every word I wrote in those letters and I cherish every moment we spent together. It is just that I cannot hurt my parents. They are old and they have a lot of hopes for me” said the young man trying to put his arm around the girl as she pushed it off.

“Stop touching me you spineless idiot!” she said as she moved away from the door.

“Listen, Sumi, don’t get hysterical. I am just trying to explain the situation to you. These things happen to many people. I am really sorry about this. But life has to go on” said the man.

“ Yes please carry on with your life then. Your station is anyway coming up” said the girl as she moved to the door at the opposite end.

“Okay, have it your way. If you want to make yourself into a tragedy queen, so be it” said the young man as he jumped down off the train at the station.

Ajay watched the girl standing by the door at the other end. He couldn’t look at her face now but he could very well imagine her grief. He wondered what had possessed that fellow to dump a nice girl like her. And anyway , how had this girl fallen for this fellow? He was obviously a smooth talker who had used her for what was called in local parlance as “time pass”.

The coach was empty now, except for the two of them. There were still three stations to go before he reached his destination. He wanted to reach out to her and say something but felt awkward. It was anyway none of his business.

She continued standing by the door. Her back was straight.

Wait…Was it his imagination or had she inched closer to the door? The station was still a few minutes away so she was obviously not getting ready to disembark.

He slid down from his seat by the window and moved towards the aisle. There was something odd about her actions. It was in a split second it all became clear to him as she extended one leg out of the door ready to jump. He leapt out of his seat and grabbed her

“STOP” he shouted as he pulled her in! He felt her trembling against him.

“You foolish girl.. what do you think you are doing ?” he asked her angrily

“Leave, me! I have nothing left to live for” she said sobbing.

“Stop that crying now. Here wipe your face” he said pulling out his handkerchief as he guided her towards a seat.

“ I cannot imagine life without him. He was my dream and my reality” she said continuing to cry into his handkerchief.

“ Fellows like that worm who got off at the last station may be an unpleasant reality but they can never be part of anyone’s dreams. He is just using his parents as an excuse to dump you. Believe me, he is not worth it! ” he said angrily.

She stopped crying and looked at him as though seeing him for the very first time.

“ I know…! But I feel very wretched.” she said

“Don’t!!. I am sure you have a life ahead of you and at lot of things to look forward to..umm Sumi ?” he asked.

“Sumita” she said slowly breaking into a smile.

“Ajay” he said extending his hand.

“Pleased to meet you” she said as she shook it.

“Which station do you get off?” he asked as the train started to slow down at the next station.

“The one after this ” she said.

“What a coincidence. So do I” he said

The train was pulling into their station. It was 8.00 PM and platform looked deserted.

“Sumita, shall I walk you home? It is quite dark” he asked as they got off the train and started walking towards the exit.

“No, it is okay, I can manage” she said.

“No, I insist. The street lights do not work in some of the lanes” he said, lying through his teeth about a neighborhood that probably had one of the best civic amenities in the city.

They walked through the streets in silence until they reached her gate.

“Bye Ajay.. and thanks! Please don’t mention that incident to anybody. I feel so stupid about it ” she said breaking the silence as she opened the gate and walked in.

“Don’t worry Sumita. I won’t..Take care” he said as he turned back to go home.

He must have taken only a few steps ahead when he heard her voice call out to him

“Ajay.. wait! Please give me your phone number. I need to contact you and return your handkerchief ” She said .

“Of course, ! How could I forget.. !” he said reciting his phone number.

“Thanks. I will give you a missed call. You can save my number” she said waving out to him.

“Please clean my hanky properly! It is my favorite- Ajay” he typed out a text message late into the night to the number from where he had received a missed call earlier in the evening.

He smiled when half an hour later he received a smiley in response. He put the phone under his pillow and closed his eyes.

The future was presenting enormous possibilities!!!

( This story is based on  a real life incident shared by my friend Mahesh . But I must confess that  I have taken some creative license while writing this.  Thank you Mahesh for letting me use the idea)

Making Melody Part 7


The University was closed today as it was Janmashtami. It had been raining incessantly since morning. The Meteorological department had issued warnings about an impending storm. The rain notwithstanding, the street vendors were busy selling flowers and other items for the evening Puja.

Padma had taken out the brass idol of Sri Krishna from the loft and cleaned it. The lamps were also polished and ready to be lit for the evening Puja. Padma looked out of the window. May be she should go out now and buy some fresh flowers before the rain got heavier and forced the vendors to close shop…..

For the first time in many years, she had drawn the feet of the baby Krishna walking in from her door to the Puja area. She looked at her drawing with a smile. She was not much of an artist but she had managed it.

She took out her umbrella and went out into the rain. There was a strong gust of wind that threatened to blow away her umbrella. She held on it and made her way among the stream of shoppers. Maybe this was how it was when Sri Krishna had been born she thought to herself as she tucked the garland of jasmine into her bag and made her way back to the flat. The waterlogged streets almost seemed like the Yamuna in spate…!!

“What is wrong with me? Next I will be imagining this umbrella is Sheshnag” she said to herself. as she got into the elevator.

“Ghir ghir aayee badariya kari” she hummed to herself absentmindedly, as she got out of the elevator.

It was just as she was shutting the collapsible gate to the elevator that she saw them- the pair of Tilonia sandals next to the door of her flat! There was only one pair of feet in her world that wore such sandals! She shifted her gaze from the sandals to the feet next to them. She was not mistaken…!! Those beautiful feet with the high arch could only belong to…..!

“Sorry!! I hope I did not mess up your rangoli” he said looking at her with a smile.

She stood rooted to her spot by the elevator, the umbrella dripping water on the floor and her bag ready to fall off her hands.

“Hello, have you turned into stone?” he asked moving towards her and waving his hands in front of her face.

She pulled herself together and took out the keys from her bag. Her hands were shaking . The key refused to get into the lock.

“Come give it to me” he said as he took the key from her hand and opened the door.

She walked in slowly behind him, in a detached manner, watching his feet as they moved parallel to the tiny feet she had drawn.

He looked older. The long hair was streaked with silver now. But the eyes were the same intense black. The crows feet at the corner of the eyes seemed more pronounced when he smiled.

“ Why are you here?” she asked in confusion

“I thought you wanted to see me. Didn’t you leave your address at the school?” he asked.

Yes of course. So stupid of her! How could she have forgotten that!

“What took you so long?” she asked finally, her voice breaking.

“It wasn’t that long Padma, when you consider the fifteen years that I have waited for you” he said quietly.

She felt herself bursting into tears.

“Shh!! Silly girl don’t cry” he whispered pulling her chin up with his fingers.

She threw herself into his arms and sobbed her heart out. It was a while before all the tears that were frozen within her melted out through her eyes and onto her face.

He held her tightly to himself almost afraid that that she would disappear again if he let her go.

“Where had you been all these years” she asked as the tears stopped.

“Here! Where else could I go? ” he asked

“ I heard that you were in Vienna” she said.

“Yes. But only for a couple of years. I came back after my grandfather died.” He said.

“ And then?” she asked urging him to go on.

“Then .. nothing! I have been busy with all the charity work and my music classes. There hasn’t been time for anything else. So you can lay aside your fears about my being involved with anyone else” he said with a smile..

“Oh, Madhav, I missed you so much!” she said looking up at his face.

“ I don’t think anyone could have missed you the way I did” he said hoarsely drawing her close to him.

“ Are you angry with me?” She asked
“ After fifteen long years, I am just very glad that we have found each other. “ he whispered.

She felt the words rather than hear them, as his lips descended down on hers. Between mingled breaths, the flutist and his love created the most beautiful music in a life time. The thunder crashed outside and the wind picked up speed. The music in her body reached a crescendo with all the seven notes ringing as he picked her up and took her inside to her bedroom. She felt the coming together of heaven and earth as their two bodies became one. Time seemed to stand still. She put her head on his shoulder and drifted into the most blissful sleep ever…!!

When she woke up, the rain had stopped and the clouds had cleared.The waning moon of the eighth day of the Krishna Paksha cast a dim light. She found him gazing at her.

“What time is it?” she asked him.

“Well past midnight my dear” he said with a smile. “You have been sleeping for nearly five hours now”

“Oh my God!! I forgot all about the Puja” she said putting on her clothes hurriedly.

“What Puja?” he asked her

“Don’t you know? Today is Janmashtami” she said

“Oh! That was why all the Rangoli and the little feet! I thought all those preparations were in my honor” he said with a laugh.

“Don’t be silly!! Just because you play the flute does not mean you are Sri Krishna” she said pushing him away playfully as he tried to pull her down onto the bed.

“ So, what is it that you are going to do now?” he asked her as he watched her dress.

“ I don’t know. Just light the lamps and make the offerings I guess. It is well past the time of his birth” she said moving towards the puja alcove in the kitchen.

She wondered if she should have a bath before that! But she decided against it because bathing was done to purify one self. And what was more pure than the expression of love that she had just shared with Madhav?

The lamps in the Puja room were still burning. The idol of Sri Krishna seemed to be glowing in their light. She took out the Jasmine garland and placed it around the idol. As she brought her palms together and closed her eyes in prayer, she heard the familiar strains of Raag Tilak Kamodi.

A part of her wanted to turn back and look at the man in flesh and blood by the window who was playing his flute while the other part wanted to concentrate on thanking the glowing image of the Lord in front of her. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the image of the God with his peacock feather crown. Bu strangely the image that kept coming up in her mind was that of a tall man with shoulder length hair holding a flute to his lips. One image seemed to slowly blend into the other until they were both one.

When she opened her eyes, the music had stopped. She found him standing by the kitchen door looking at her with amusement.

“So what did you ask your God for?” he teased her

“I did not ask him for anything. He has already given me everything that I have ever wanted” she said with a smile.

“Thank you! I was worried you might be asking him to get me to marry you” he said with a laugh.

“Why? What is wrong in marriage?” she asked him.

“Nothing! Except that I do not believe in it” he said

“ You do not believe in God. You do not believe in marriage. So what is it that you believe in” she asked him sharply.

“Padma, I believe in music and I believe in our love. A love that had withstood the pain of separation for fifteen long years is not going to be sealed by some rituals or a legal document. My parents were married and so were you. Does it guarantee any happiness?’ he asked her softly.

She looked up at him. Yes, he was right. Marriage was only a ritual that was man made. Love on the other hand was divine.

“So tell me, will you always love me ?” she asked, putting her arms around his neck.

“ As long as there is breath in this body, I will love you and play my flute” he said pulling her close to him.

She looked over his shoulder at the idol of Sri Krishna. Did she imagine it or did she see the idol stretch its lips into a smile?

“So when do we start our life together?” she asked him

“We already have… our life together has begun” he said with a smile.

….. And they did not get married but lived happily ever after!!!

( For those of you who have not guessed it  already, this story has been inspired by the tale of Radha and Krishna! Though they were never married their love has always been held up as the epitome of romance. I would urge you to  read/listen to Poet Jaidev’s “Geeta Govind” which describes this love in the most beautiful manner. Mine is only a poor effort)

Making Melody Part 6


That there were no second chances, she was sure of by now. She had had her chance that night at the gate outside her house. She could have chosen to walk away with him but instead, she had chosen to go inside and stand behind the door as her father slammed it shut on his face.

There was a split second before the door had shut when she had managed to catch a glimpse of him. He was standing outside her gate, illuminated by the street light above his head . The rain had petered out to a light drizzle. The play of the street light on the falling raindrops had created an illusion of a halo around him. And that was the image that had stayed with her all through these years.

She remained silent right through the drama that took place on the other side of the door. Her father had raved and ranted about how she had belied their trust while her mother had been sobbing about the shame that this would bring onto their family.

Padma was to date unsure of exactly what it is that she had supposedly done. Yes, it was 10.00PM. Her parents had been worried about her. But the delay was not deliberate. The heavy rain had brought about a land slide on their way down from the school up in the hills. The bus had halted for about two hours as efforts were on to clear the road. But the two of them had been blissfully unaware of anything that was going on around them, so wrapped up were they in each other.

Only when the road was cleared and the bus had begun to descend downward to the plains did she realize how late it was. The traffic on the winding roads was very heavy and by the time they had reached the bus station down in the town it was nearly 9.00PM.

Madhav would not let her go alone from the bus station. He had insisted on escorting her home.

She supposed it was their body language, as they had walked down the lane leading up to her house in the light drizzle that had given them away. No words had been exchanged but her parents had immediately understood that there was something that connected the young man and their daughter. It was more than an umbrella that they shared.

Despite all that her parents accused her of having done, she had refused to feel to guilty. She knew what she had experienced that day was something very rare. Never in her life had she thought that she could be connected to another human being in that way! She had stayed awake that entire night reliving each moment.

By the time the clouds cleared and the sun rays burst into the horizon, she was sure her parents would have forgiven her. However , that was not to be.

It was just before dawn that her mother had woken her up saying that her father was feeling unwell. He was complaining of breathlessness.

She had run down the road to the doctor who lived next door. He had told them to move her father to a hospital immediately. He was in the first stage of a heart attack. They had rushed him to the hospital.

The clouds had floated away, the sun had risen, the birds had sung but all that Padma could remember of that morning was the inside of the hospital room. The guilt that she had fought against engulfed her now!  In some corner of her mind a thought was slowly creeping in – that maybe she had brought this upon  her father!

She had prayed hard for him to recover, in sheer desperation promising herself that if her father recovered she would never do anything to make him unhappy again. The gods had probably heard her prayers because he had recovered and after two weeks been discharged from the hospital.

Now, it was up to her to keep her word.

She had stayed away from Madhav for the rest of the semester. After a couple of attempts at talking to her he had stopped seeking her company. He had graduated that year and she had stayed away from the graduation ceremony.

There were many a times that she had wanted to meet him and explain to him why she was staying away. But she never managed to muster up the courage to face him. She knew she had failed him and he would probably not forgive her for it ever!!

She focused her energies instead on her studies. She aced every exam that she took and it did not surprise anyone when she won a scholarship to go abroad for her master’s degree.

But she could not deny the fact that his absence had left a void in her heart. She had tried to make discreet inquiries about his whereabouts. But considering the fact that he was such a loner, it had been difficult to find out about him. He was like the air that blew out of his lungs, through the holes in his flute. Invisible, until the music started

A few years into her doctoral program, she had run into one of his classmates from college. During the course of their conversation she had learnt that he had been at  Vienna for a while, studying western classical music and playing with an orchestra. She had wanted to know more but by that time, she was almost engaged to Vineet and she did not think it was right to open what she considered a closed chapter from her past.

Unfortunately, what she had considered a closed chapter was anything but that!. It was a continuing melody. She knew it deep within her, the “Mukhda” had to be followed by the “Antara”. It was only a matter of time……..

( To be continued)

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