All posts by AdiC

Writing is the passion... Thoughts arise, words flow and the excitement never subsides!

Rescued.

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From the distant lands,

Galloping on his horse,

Came the knight of her dreams,

Dusty and tired,

A freshness in the soul,

Heart bewitched, smile dazzling.

Months ago, when they had first met,

A city damsel, she was no match for him,

A guard of the royals,

Splendor befitted him, royalty trusted him,

She a prison woman, rugged hands,

With twinkling eyes and a happy heart.

Today, free of shackles, they stood beside,

Just two people, watching,

The Sun go down, one more time,

As he knelt on his knee and asked,

“Will you rescue me?”

Graciously Yours!

 

Belong.

Stranded, lost, fumbling to find the way back,

‘Tis too dark to see, too lonely to ask,

The way back to your heart, once that I called home,

The grass, the road, the river, the shore,

I cross it all in the hope that I will find you,

The eyes moist, voice cracked, all I wonder is,

As I shout out to the skies, from the depths of my soul,

Will I ever know where you belong.

Graciously Yours!

 

Blowing Off The Candle.

Birthdays – most love it, some dread it! Some feel wiser, others feel older. Some ignore it, some party harder than other days. If nothing else, a birthday heralds the announcement of completing yet another year on this wonderful planet! If I was on Mars, I’d currently be just 13! Be a Mercurian and I’d be 156 days old but only 104 years old! Go figure that out! Or you could just ask me in the comments. Plutonians say my first birthday would be in 2240 Earth year. Yeah, yeah I know Pluto isn’t a planet but hello, it still does exist even if as a dwarf planet or whatever it is that scientists want to call it these days, okay?

So coming to the point, I just clocked a good number of years on the Earth and I don’t know if I am wiser or old, or both or none, but I sure did enjoy it! Less than some days but more than most days! It isn’t easy spending your special days away from the family but when you have the loveliest set of people in your life, distances vanish before you even know it! Oh and guess what! I can finally say I celebrated my birthday Harry Potter style! Replete with a wand, broomstick and even the Marauder’s Map. 

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Love poured in from all quarters, cents and pences but the most creative is right here! 

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That, ladies and gentlemen, is Justin Trudeau! And that is obviously not sent by Trudeau, but I wish that’d happen! Instead, a friend came up with this to compensate for my constant ranting about Trudeau! Well, the man deserves love for spreading goodness and hope. Also, Elon Musk. Much respect. 

Oh but it’s not done yet! The week may be coming to an end, but the love hasn’t. Wishes still keep pouring in and sometimes I wish I could just switch off my cell, because saying so many thank you’s can be a pain after a while. But to think of it, when else do we really get time to connect with so many of our family and friends in a day?

They say what goes around, comes around. ❤

Graciously (older and wiser) Yours!

Oh wait. That’s not the end!

P.S. :

Here’s a checklist for your birthday –

  • DO NOT go and surprise your friends the night before your birthday! You don’t want to ruin the surprise they might be planning for you. 
  • DO NOT rush to open the door either! It might be the cake delivery guy!
  • DO keep your power bank handy. Phones don’t get an iota of rest.
  • DO make sure you have your face wash at arm’s distance, lest some one puts cake on your face yet another time.
  • DO NOT keep food items that can be applied on the face lying around. They’re harmful for you.
  • DO NOT wear white to work, unless you can convince your colleagues to keep the cake away. Or unless your colleagues don’t order cakes.
  • DO remember to wish anyone who might share your birth date!
  • DO smile each time someone wishes you! You’re making their day. And mine too. Well, ‘cuz you just followed my checklist, right? 😉

A Smile Here. A Smile There.

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He looked visibly frustrated. And he had reasons to be so. He’d been on his feet for almost half the day and the ordeal was not over yet. He kept shuffling his feet across the floor, trying to visit each table more than once. He knew his boss was keeping a tab. He had to sell the offer they had just rolled out. He collected the offer pamphlets from the doorman’s podium.

He walked to the nearest table. The occupants were conversing. “It is bad manners to intrude,” his teacher had taught him in school. He didn’t want to intrude but his job demanded otherwise.  He went up to the table, excused himself and started explaining the offer to the customers in the middle of their meal and conversation. Halfway through, they took the pamphlet and resumed their conversation. Not a smile, not an acknowledgement, not even the plain old nod. He called it the ‘wallpaper theory’ – he was like the wallpaper, essential but not cast a look at, never smiled at and walked past. Well, at least they were better than those customers who turned around to shout at him, or be rude, or asked him to go away! Oh yes, there were such too. They’d look up and say, “Could you go away?” If only they knew how to even say please.

Every trip to the bathroom involved washing his face more than peeing. Waiting on tables wasn’t his dream job, this was no one’s dream job but if he wanted to get a monthly cash deposit in his bank, this would have to do. He had to remind himself every couple of hours that this job was more important than rude and impolite customers, than being treated like wallpaper, than having to carry people’s soiled plates, sleeping with a pain in the feet which seemed like it would never go away again, and a bruise to your self respect each damned day. But it would have to do. They say no job is small, yet the way they behave each day belittles him.


I met Bhanu, who works at a fast food outlet here in Bangalore. I don’t know what his story is, why he does what he does, how he motivates himself to wait on tables all day long, how he lets out all the frustration that is more than visible on his face, but I am sorry I couldn’t get a smile on his face! Probably one smile from me wasn’t enough to make up for his tough day!

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Let’s try harder next time and be more polite to the ones who have jobs that could not be further away from the term ‘job satisfaction’. Can we do that?

Graciously Yours!

Life Notes #12.

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As I took the microphone in my hand this time, I knew this wasn’t a rehearsal any longer. The day had arrived, the clock had struck. I expected butterflies but there weren’t any. Not even caterpillars! I spoke into the mike. My voice faltered. I looked at my co-host for the event. He assured me to go on. Closing my eyes for a second, I went on talking into the mike, addressing a couple hundred people, and without giving myself anymore time to think, I went out on the stage. The emcees had been introduced. I was on the stage. The crowd roared! The lights blinded. But I was ready! I was alert, ready and excited! There was a calmness in the adrenaline rush too!

My mind was rushing by at the same speed as earlier but time had slowed down! I had more time time to think and speak now. “Speak slowly,” my father’s command rang in my ears. I could see a couple of faces in the crowd. I knew these people. I wanted to wave at them! I am sure they would have waved back!

Improvising where required, remembering not to make a face if I forgot a line, smiling every now and then, I focused on keeping the audience engaged!

Oh yes, us anchors, we did goof up. We made mistakes. We cut across each other’s lines. We even forgot lines! Our puns brought in roars of laughter. Sometimes they fell flat. But I could feel the pulse of the crowd! I could see them getting pumped up! I got the kids screaming! I even had to shut them up once! But not once did I not love the stage!

By the end of it all, when I came back to the green room and laid my tired back on the sofa, I knew I had pulled off what has been unthought of by me. I thought my part was done and dusted and I could just go back home and sleep after a week’s deprivation! But as I type this out, I am still sleep deprived not because of work and stress but because of the excitement the responses from people has infused in me!

A friend asked if I am writing this week’s post. I told him I couldn’t come up with one yet with all the left over energy from hosting yesterday night’s event still bubbling in me! Now I’ve poured it all out here! 🙂

Note to self : There are days when you surprise yourself. Once in a while they do come along, like the sunny days in London! Don’t undermine yourself on those days, as they come by rarely. Look around yourself, see all the appreciation that falls upon you, close your eyes and soak it all in, store it in the deep and safe corners of your memory to be unlocked on other days when you feel down and out, days when you need a pep talk, days when nothing seems to be going right! 

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : Sometimes, even the smallest of your criticisms can go a long way! Thanks, Dad! ❤

Breathe.

Her husband sat her down at the bed. She’d just taken a hot water bath. She placed her towel on her shoulder to soak up water from her wet hair. She inhaled deeply. This wasn’t the first time she had to answer the questions. This wouldn’t be the last.

“How did it happen?”

“What did he say?”

“How does it feel?”

“When exactly did it happen?”

“Did you see it all?”

Once again she closed her eyes and recalled the moment. In a flash, it was all over. One second she was at the pavement, the next she was on the road, the head of a dying man on her lap, blood drenching her clothes, tickling down her skin, shock overriding the bile building up in her stomach.

She opened up her eyes again. She was ready.

Her husband instead said, “It must be difficult for you dealing with the accident. Do you want to eat outside or should I cook?”

She breathed again!

Graciously Yours!

Six Word Story #11

And the six word story series is back!

Closure is overrated. Reopened wounds bleed.
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Graciously Yours!

P.S. : What should be the next six word story? Give me words! I’ll pick up themes!

The Rose.

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“Ouch,” she uttered, pulling back her finger from the rose stem. A thorn had pricked her and a drop of blood lay on her finger, perfectly placed like it always belonged there. She smiled.

“Got yourself another prick, did you now?” her husband asked, as he sat in the hall, immersed in the morning’s papers on his iPad.

“Why can’t he just buy those traditional newspapers?” she wondered. She wasn’t an e-paper girl.

“Why don’t you hire a gardener for your plants?” he asked, the umpteenth time. “You keep pricking yourself.”

She didn’t answer. The umpteenth time. He wouldn’t be able to come to terms with it.

The first time she’d pricked herself was when her first lover had brought her some from his own garden, ten years ago.They’d never gotten married. But her love for him had not died.

He loved her rose garden. He was coming for dinner tonight.

The first prick had made her squirm. Now it made her smile.

Graciously Yours!

THE ADOPTED CHILD.

I sat alone in my new room. I’d tried calling up my parents but they were unreachable. Keeping the phone aside, I lay my head on the wall backing the bed. Outside in the living room, I could hear the other girls, both my age, my new flatmates, talking and laughing. I wanted to go out too, but I didn’t know them. In fact, I didn’t know anyone in the office, or in the city. I had only one friend in the crowd of tens of thousands of people camping their lives in the city. The friend lived with her newly wedded husband and I couldn’t even think of intruding into their space at this point in time.

Someone knocked on the door. I hurried to get up and open the unlocked door. The girl at the door, Maera she was called, stood there with a smile. “Come for dinner,” Maera said. “You guys carry on,” I replied, my stomach rumbling with hunger but hesitation creeping up and taking over. I had lived in a joint family and barely ever ate alone. But I didn’t know them either. Wouldn’t it be as good as eating alone? But Maera still stood there, arms crossed, and declared, “You must be hungry with all the shifting today. Come on. I’m not letting you eat alone.”

I smiled a small smile, thanking her in my thoughts for forcing me to eat. I needed energy to carry on without my family here. That night I slept soundly on the sofa while talking to my parents, until Maera came along in the middle of the night, tip toeing so as to not wake me up and then woke me up. “Come we’ll take you to your room,” she said softly, pulling me up. On my bed, I slept better.

***

A few months had passed. I still spoke to my parents’ everyday. And I still passed out on the sofa at nights. But now Maera and I fought to sleep on the sofa! I cuddled up in her lap as Maera sat and read a book. I was busy on my phone while she ran her fingers through my hair every now and then. “You know you should adopt me,” I said. “What?” she asked, stunned, keeping her book aside. “You should adopt me!” I repeated. “Why should I adopt you?” she asked, laughing and reading again, not even paying attention to me any longer!

***

I was cranky and hungry. I had had a bad day at work. I fought with a friend. I was not even PMSing yet. Even my hormones couldn’t take the blame yet. Maera sat me down and asked me,”What happened?” “Nothing,” I replied, waiting for someone to stop me in my tirade of lashing out at the world! “Sit here,” Maera said, her face grave, sitting me down on the floor between her knees while she gave me a head massage.

Half an hour later, I had offloaded all my worldly troubles into her ears and she’d filled mine with what little of worldly trouble advice she  owned.

***

I found in her a friend, a reminder of the love of my family, a corner to my worldly troubles, a shoulder to rest on, an adopted parent! Maera found in me an adopted child. Yes, she may not admit to it, but she did.

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Dedicating this to my (almost admitted, but not yet owned) adopted child! To hours of introspective discussions, shared love for music, long unwinding walks, cuddles and head massages, getaways at 2 am and gazing starry nights! Stay happy! ❤

Graciously Yours!

Of People and Things.

Naksh was singing at the top of his voice! “Papparah Papparah Papparah… Badtameez Dil Badtameez Dil… Ahh… Haan

“Oh shut that radio thing off and stop jumping on the bed,” Shailjaa scolded her eight year old son, Naksh!

No longer jumping, he smiled at her and stood there, the hand held radio his father bought as a gift, still blaring what people called music these days!

She was still angry at him but this child of hers could not be least bothered! He’d misplaced her earrings and she couldn’t find it anywhere. She was sure she’d given to him to go and keep it by the bedside table. She’d even boxed his ears two hours ago but he came back and sat beside her in no time! Now he was jumping on the bed unashamed.

“Get out,” she said, dropping the freshly ironed bed covers and pillow cases on the bed. “I have to change the bed sheet.”

“Mummy, I am sorry,” he said, and walked out of the room, forlorn and dejected, head hung.

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Shailjaa didn’t reply.

She pulled off the old covers angrily. Unfurling the new covers, she went to the headboard side and struggled to pick up the mattress alone to push the new covers beneath. Something fell from behind the mattress onto the floor beneath. She bent down and looked under the four poster bed. Two pieces of gold shone out to her. One within her reach, the other rolled off to the other end. She crawled under the bed and got her hands on both the pieces. She craned her neck upwards to look at the bed from under. A coffee flavored toffee was sticking out from behind the mattress, fighting gravity, pinched in place. She pulled it out too and crawled back out from under the bed. She sat on the floor, head resting on the bed, turning the earrings back and forth. They were the ones for which she’d boxed her son’s ears. She felt terrible, devastated almost. She now recalled picking it from the bedside table and having kept it on the bed. They must have gotten wedged between the mattress and the headboard during the course of the night. She lay her head on her knees and held herself close. She sat that way for more than a few minutes and swore to herself she’d put people over things here onwards.

Getting up from her place on the floor, she went out of the bedroom to look for her son. He was standing in the balcony, listening to the radio. She snuck up behind him and dangled the toffee in front of his eyes. He whirled around and smiled broadly. But then he saw her face and his smile dimmed a little. Her heart pricked.

“You want this?” she asked him.

He shook his head.

She felt sad.

But then he said, “I want the mango flavor.”

Her heart jumped with joy! “I’ll get you those later. Right now, will you please help me with covering the bed?” she asked.

He nodded her head vigorously. Then he raised a finger and asked, “Can I jump on the bed after that?”

“Yes, we both will,” she said, laughing.

Beaming with joy, he ran towards the room, and she noticed as she followed him, that his radio was lying in the balcony. She picked it up and placed it on the table – a lesson learnt.

Graciously Yours!