My Space

Dear Dad, These past three years have made me feel such a void that I couldn't resist penning down this letter to you. After all you have listened to my lamenting all your life, so why should things change in your afterlife. I'm not very articulate, but you and only you can hear me clearly through all my rambling. Ashita is your favorite and I am sure this will help her earn brownie points this time around too. And where does leave her rival because of whom I happened to you? Agreed that I married Ashu with your blessings and that I have my own pitfalls as a husband and she as a wife, but we have withstood the test of time. She's impulsive, hot-headed, and way too self-righteous for me to handle, but deep down within I know she has a good heart. Mum, on the other hand, has been living with this mortal phobia of being judged. She just has to be perfect and wear that mantle of an ideal mum. Neither of us have ever mandated this, but this is just her. And, yes, she ex

“Oh him? He is slightly dumb, but he’s sweet.” “See I told you, you won’t believe me.” “Come on Alia, just let go.” “Sumi, just listen to Alia.” “Thanks Tarun. He comes too close for comfort, and if you even hint any resistance he  gives you the nastiest glares. Forget that, he started hounding me on project emails as well,  and for no apparent reason. Even the manager never said anything to him.” “On official email? How?” “He’s not that conversant in English, and in very confusing phrases he outright blamed me  for this outage. And when I asked for a clarification regarding what went wrong, he was even  more vague. And something tells me he is well-protected here too, given that even my manager  kept mum. This means women who work with him are not protected.” “Then raise it with ethics na.” “See Sumi, it’s not that simple. Like I said, someone here has him shielded. So he’s going to get  away with it. I’m angry enough to kick him where it hurts the most. He should rem

"I've heard they will close the transport systems soon. Its been raining continuously since six hours." "Omigosh! I don't want to be stuck here all night. My place is far you know.' "Let's hope for the best. And don't worry, I live closeby. I would be honored to host you." "Areee no! I don't want to trouble you unnecessarily. And I'm not made of sugar that I will melt. In 2005 I slept in the Chemistry lab the entire night. Remember that cloudburst and torrential rainfall. So many stories of heroism that were born that day. " "Absolutely, and some were totally unbelievable acts of valour. A few stories come to my mind too." "Chalo! Let's compare notes over a piping cuppa. You want to go first?" "Yes. My colleague Sanika, she spent the entire night in a best bus. The bus would not budge and in in the waters. If the levels rose any further she would drenched till further help arrived.

He talked, talked and talked like he had verbal diarrhea. He needed to splutter out the last word he knew about whatever he was talking about. An then this infamous B-word would splutter out of his mouth if he felt very strongly that things were amiss. It would slip through his tongue in the most innocuous fashion, while the rest of us looked on quite wide-eyed. The B-word was like his trailing spouse. She followed wherever he went. Retired seniors read newspapers like the world depended on their being better informed. Politics and current affairs are key topics of their discussion. Being neighbours, our parents made socials calls to each other quite frequently. During one such visit the argument over a politician's vested interest got heated up. He felt very strongly for the politician in question as did my parents feel against him. When the kitchen heat brewed too strong, out came his trailing spouse. Paralysed in shock, my parents stared long and hard in disbelief. Mum even

“It’s loud enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood,” remarked a rather bleary eyed Ansh, “and you tell me I don’t even realise. Aai someone will report us to the cops for sure”. “ Gappa bas, veda ” (Shut up, silly boy!), I retorted, chiding him to not make a fuss over such a small thing. He just happened to be awake for cramming a stockpile of books for his exam. Had it been a regular day, he would have been too unconscious to realise the existence of Parvati mausi’s  divine alarm. Each night  mausi  slept her forty winks akin to a NASA research scientist on the way toward a path-breaking discovery. As was her routine since years, she woke up at the dot of 4 AM. She'd begin her day with a bath and move to the puja room to pay obeisance to a line-up of deities. I am seldom awake at such an unearthly hour. Nonetheless, I have been an occasional witness to this morning ritual. “Asha? Tumhi Prasad ghetla kaa?” (Asha, did you partake of the blessings) Even before