Chronicles of Chiropractor May 17, 2008

As mentioned painfully in the last post I was tormented with agonising spinal pain. It was like a devil that danced around me swaying its poky tail and hitting me with it spines on my spine! The torture was upsurging with the pace that it reminded me of many No Balls Shoaib Akhtar throws incessantly and curses as if he has no clue of its mechanism. Worst of all this torture time was the banging I had in my head all the time. I felt like taking a big hammer and crush my cranium bang bang -bang bang just like some judge said ‘order order’ in a ghatiya (inferior) B- grade hindi low budget movie.

I had to force my jarring soul to prepare itself for a tiring a la Republic Day like rehearsal at office for a whole week. The torture wasn’t ameliorating with the heaps of documentation lying at my desk. I was not even able to lift a sheaf of paper. I relented to the trauma and asked for forgiveness but the devil was enjoying capturing my active body and was parasiting on my giggly prerogative. :(  The partner decided it was time to see a specialist. I knew he was right as my chirpiness was as dead as news that surrounded likes of daily dosage of ‘rapes’, ‘murders’, ‘kidnapping’, ‘extortion’ or very common ‘bomb blasts’.

Well atlast there I was- waiting for the elevator to take me to the magical kingdom of ‘City Chiropractor‘-a kingdom that has chronicles dedicated to mend chronic disorders! The elevator opened and I had no clue whether the kingdom held any potions to cure my diabolic twinge. The receptionist looked at me with a beaming smile that made me annoy and twitch my fingers deeper inside the palm fearing that my destiny might take an ambushed course, courtesy the scratchy hand lines. My fate was ruining at the threshold of her angelic constance. I followed erstwhile Gandhian turned modern Munnabhai effort to forgive her for I knew just like Jesus that she didn’t knew what she did to me. I waited for my charmer to appear and treat my chronics from knowledge learnt from high mountains of the Himalayas or deep jungles of Africa (interestingly not related to any of the two). The charmer appeared out of a white mystic door and smiled. Two atrocitic smiles at random. I decided to follow his altruistic silhouette and submitted my agony to him. The master’s chamber was commodious enough to welcome thousands of pilgrims like me. But there were none and I sighed in relief as -I like people not crowd. He touched my shoulders to assess the alignment and I remembered my tailors back in India who surely made my life a living nightmare by never giving my clothes on time. The measurement moved from my shoulder to the neck and I for a jiffy felt as a damsel in distress captured by the goon. I was about to scream loud -’bachao‘ (Save) when he again shifted his focus to my back. His examination was done and he took out a pale white form and started scribbling the tale of my torture on it. He started asking me about my medical history which reminded me to take care of my sugar intake. The interview session was tedious and I was tired of playing it as it was as boring as the third season of Kaun Banega Crorepati especially when I knew there was no Crore to be won!

Well the examination was over and he asked me to lie on my back on a THING which can’t be actually called as a bed nor a sofa nor a couch nor a chair. But as I have to name it I’ve decided to christen it as a bedcoch(bed+couch+chair). So there I was trying to feel comfortable on the bedcoch when he came and gave me a big blow on the back, quickly on the shoulder and a fast twist to my angelic face-right and then left. THUD CRRREEEK CRACK CRACKKK CROOOM KKKKAAAAAARRRAAAK. I couldn’t believe the strange background scary sounds coming from my bones. And it was done!

The partner swiped his credit card for a not so cool two hundred dollars for a wrestling session- a session where I didn’t even got a chance to punch back??????????????????? How rude and unfair? And to the heights of it the opponent whom I seeked as a charmer asked me to come for four weeks and three sessions (read WWF) per week.

I gave up and have by now completed my first week. The trauma is receding like Salman’s hairline and I am getting back to my prerogative. The stiffness and frozen tinge is going away but it slightly comes back when I have to loose my purse strings after every fight! Duh guess what- who wrote the wrong saying- you win some you lose some? It’s a LOSS-LOSS situation for me - I lose inside the fighting ring and outside the ring at the mercy of beaming receptionist while she swipes the magnetic card taking away my hard earned Queen Elizabeths for what- a hit on my back?

IRONICAL - Ain’t it?

Role reversal May 16, 2008

Tina was asking for the fifth time but Craig wasn’t listening. He was flipping tv channels and kept biting his nails and also some cuticle skin. Tina stomped her feet and took the remote away. Craig said-’yeah you can make chicken for dinner.’ Tina shortened her short eyes and yelled - ‘I was asking about did you pay the credit card bill and you are telling me about chicken, Craig you don’t listen to me anymore. You’re always busy with your TV or newspaper. I have asked you so many times and you don’t care’. Craig knew it was time to shift his too occupied mind from TV or else Tina would have surely gone on flames. Craig said sorry but Tina kept yelling. She went to the opposite divan and threw his clothes on the floor. Craig got up and went to Tina and tried to give her a hug. Tina pushed him away and went to bathroom and closed the door. Craig could hear the faucet running and Tina babbling while brushing her teeth. Craig wasn’t getting angry instead he kept smiling -it was a normal thing for two of them in the past beautiful years of wedding.

Tina came out and she had changed her clothes and went to the bed and started reading her glossy Cosmopolitan . Craig said sorry and he knew the role reversal was in its full form. She didn’t hear his sorry and kept flipping the pages creating a weird disturbing noise. He started looking for his night suit in the wardrobe and couldn’t find it. Tina knew behind her pages of Lifestyle tips that Craig needed help but she made sure to look engrossed. He gave up and asked Tina. She didn’t reply and waited till the same fifth time and then answered that it was in laundry. By now again the role reversal was in its full form. Craig started yelling and several waves swept across his forehead. He looked out for some other alternative cloth but couldn’t find anything. Tina’s clothes fell from the shelf and she gave half glance through her magazine and taunted him to be careful. Craig was in no mood to listen anything and went outside the room slamming the door behind.

Ten minutes must have passed. Tina kept thinking why isn’t he coming to make peace and Craig kept thinking lying on the couch why isn’t Tina coming to see him. Another five minutes passed thinking. Tina came out and straightaway went to kitchen and gulped very little water. She then looked at Craig and told him to wear his old night suit. Craig got up and went to the bedroom.

Craig slept facing on the other side of bed and Tina went back to her Cosmo. Craig told Tina to switch off the light as he couldn’t sleep. Tina switched off the light declaring that why every time he has to sleep when she prefers to read and kept babbling that she is tired of his stupid habits. Craig also yelled and made his stand clear that even he is also not very happy being with her. Role reversal was no longer there as both of them were dominating their roles and no longer remembered why they fought in the first place. Tina slipped inside the warm blanket and realized she was very cold. She tried to change side and accidentally touched Craig’s warm feet. She felt warm and relaxing. She didn’t remove her feet which was touching him very lightly. Craig felt Tina’s smooth feet on his very warm feet and felt nice. He didn’t try to remove his feet. Tina coughed a bit and then more little later. Craig half turned ensuring to remain in his side of bed and asked if she needed water. She said no thanks and this time her tone was milder. Craig turned a bit more and asked her if she was fine. She said she was alright and her throat was hurting a bit. Craig then turned nearer to her and said she shouldn’t have yelled so loud. She also asked him why he behaves so ignorant towards her. Their tones were now milder. Both of them came close and Craig kissed Tina on her forehead. Tina kept her head on his chest. He kept caressing her hair and she closed her eyes.He promised to take her out for dinner the next night. Tina opened her eyes wide and asked him about the credit card payment. He said she should have reminded him.

The role reversal was in its own gear again. It was in its own gear since the last thirty years.

A Stuck Friend Forever………. May 15, 2008

Shantanu could have smiled at that moment but the dryness of his cracked lips didn’t stretch his blistered cheeks to a grin. He was hoping things will change. The done would become undone. He looked at the coffee mug and read -’Friends Forever.’ He looked at the mug again and remembered the coffee chats on the same table and how she held the mug tightly to warm her cold hands. She was the closest he had ever been to zenith of happiness. He knew no worries and no hundreds and thousands of things that bothered him otherwise. With her he felt free, liberated and relaxed. He remembered her walking through the glass door every morning passing a smile that would melt his heart and made him believe in existence of angels. He thought about the numerous occasion when she would come to him and ask him to help him out with her silly problems. He remembered how she made an innocent face and hit her forehead slightly with her hand and said -’Oho!’

Ritika was his reason of existence, so much so he breathed her. Ritika was his primal reason of any thing in his life. They giggled and giggled without realizing the reason of the giggles. Ritika had gone on a fifteen days break from work when she gave him the mug on her last day before her break began. She was going with her family to relax. Shantanu knew he would miss her and would feel incomplete but he knew he would confess her love for her when she will come back.

Fifteen days passed with great difficulties and Ritika came beaming brighter as ever. Shantanu could have cried with hapiness looking at her face but couldn’t as he wanted to be strong. Shantanu picked his mug and they headed to the cafeteria. Shantanu was about to tell Ritika about his feelings when Ritika announced -’I am in love.’ Shantanu felt deaf for milliseconds. He smiled to hide his disbelief and kept looking at the same face which made him happiest and saddest at the very random moment. She kept talking and talking and he kept bringing himself back from the wild imagination he had sported in those fifteen days. He cursed at his unremitting status quo of friend!

Ritika logged off from her system early that evening and asked Shantanu to tell others that she had to leave early if in case anybody asked. She picked up her stuff- her big bag with things that even she didn’t knew was there inside and her umbrella and headed for the door. She came back in a frenzy and hugged Shantanu and said bye and faded into an oblivion that was hard to be phased out off.

Shantanu could have smiled at that moment but …………..

Fruity’s Foody Folklore May 14, 2008

As honored as am I for being tagged and labelled at the same time (tagged for the post and labelled as senile) I share with my fellow blog surfers the latest tag by Guruji…..this entails questions related to food……….Food- aah something that has bothered me every time my dad and mom gave a close look at me while I gulped my plate of so called nutritious lentils and carbs or cereal !!!! Food- something that has disturbed me from studying or blogging at the shout of-Dinner’s ready!!! Food- aah something that depresses me when I watch news on World Food Crisis….Did I hear you say Italian- now that’s a different territory!!! Italian-aaah something I can devour day and night and can eat 365 or odd 366 days…….Italian- godly preparation…….that melts in my mind even before it enters my mouth!!! Slurp slurp!!!

Coming back from my vindictive imagination- here goes the tag!!!!

1. What’s your favorite table?

Ummmm the corner side table in Barista. My life took a complete paradigm shift from that table. Also the table at Ruby’s Tuesdays and Fortune Platters!!! Love bites exchanged !!

2. What would you have for your last supper?

OMG!!! Last Supper? Ah reminds me to book a painter to paint the modern rendition of Last Supper (featuring the goddess- ME in between enjoying food). The menu should comprise of this:

Entrée- Pasta Main Course - Pasta Dessert- Tiramisu….umm with some Pasta!!!!! baaahhhhhhhhh

Now I am craving for Pasta…..haaayyyeee

3. What’s your poison?

Aah good question- my poison as clearly indicated above is Pasta (Penne in Bolognese Sauce to be precise!!!!)……… I also love Dark Chocolate cake and Rajma Rice….ummmmmmmmmm did I say Gol Gappes tooo???? Labelling it poison because its a deadly food that sways my mind with bad bouts of craving…….addicted to it…

4. Name your three desert island ingredients.

Vegetarian, Low Fat and Not Spicy is the key to my food!!! yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

5. What would you put in Room 101?

hahahahhah SUBWAY SUBWAY SUBWAY SUBWAY SUBWAY SUBWAY……..wait not over yet….STARBUCKS STARBUCKS STARBUCKS STARBUCKS STARBUCKS STARBUCKS

6. Which book gets you cooking?

What are you saying??????? No book can get me cooking…….my instincts are more than sufficient…Peeps tell me I am a good chef! You may see my book in future some time that can get you cooking!! How’s that for an answer??????

7. What’s your dream dinner party line up?

Ooooh groovy mind flirting now……. okiess here goes- Me (baah), my closed family members, my friends, my kingdom, my workers, my bankers, my debtors, my fans, my secretaries (yes plural), my favorite singers for live entertainment!!!!!

8. What was your childhood teatime treat?

Ummmmm hot hot bowl of Maggie, Hot chocolate milk followed by some chocolate or toffees dad usually got every evening!!!!

9. What was your most memorable meal?

Hmmmmm first time when my in laws came to meet me..I was petrified……….first time I felt underconfident and cried oceans before entering living room…. I had cooked Kadahi Paneer which my mom thought to be Chilly Paneer and added her own bits of ingredients….it turned out to be something else…….tasting funny but graciously enjoyed by my in laws!!!

10. What was your biggest food disaster?

HAHAHAHA nice anecdote goes here…we(Cousins and I) once went to a cousin’s birthday party and one Aunt forced us to eat some MITHAI MAGIC that was launched recently. We were very reluctant to eat it but she kept pushing us…..so we took a piece and I took the first bite with a puky feeling. It tasted horrible…aunt turned to another aunty to offer and meanwhile I threw the piece under the bed….my cousins followed the suit……..!!!!!!! She came again and offered us her horrible version of Pao Bhaaji (recipe taken by my mom) and again pushed us…….no need to mention the pao bhaaji also went under the bed!!!! We didn’t speak to her or went to her home for quite long knowing she would have seen the stuff next day while cleaning!!!

11. What’s the worst meal you’ve ever had?

SUSHI Sushi SuShi…… I hate Sushi!!!

12. Your food hero/food villian?

Food hero- Ummm a nicely baked dish of Lasagne with lots of mushrooms and Spinach………..yummmmmmmmmmaaaa

Food Villain- Ummmmmmm a glass of milk !!! Villain because it always created fights between me and mom…….Yuukkkkk hated it when she used to stand in front of me with a yukky glass of milk first thing in the morning!!

13. Nigella or Delia?

Aaaiyyo why forget our Padmalaksmi? Heheheh well I don’t care…….

14. Vegetarians: genius or madness?

To each his/her own…I can’t say much as I am a recently converted vegetarian turned non vegetarian turned vegetarian…..I was a veggie since childhood (the only exception in the whole family clan) then turned into a non vegetarian in 2006 and then back to vegetarian in 2007!!!!!

15. Fast food or fresh food?

Low Fat food!!

16. Who would you most like to cook for?

Ummmm family and friends!! And I do that too!!!

17. What would you cook to impress a date?

Hmmm…I did it on Valentines Day. Cooked complete meal- entree, main course and dessert…I made- Cheese Balls, Kashmiri Chicken, Kadahi Paneer, Corn and Peas Rice, Lachcha parantha and firni for dessert!!!! And I ensured I am done with cooking before my date arrived…I lighted up the dinner table and used aromatic oils!!! Table laying is equally important to cooking!!

18. Make a wish.

Ahhhhhh I wish everybody should taste my Lasagne sometime in life!!

19. I tag…

Umm the usual- no one!!

The loop closes here…….

Mother’s Day- a special day for my MOMS!!! May 11, 2008

Today is Mother’s Day- day that is special to me because I am blessed with two wondeful mothers who have loved me deeply and spoilt me and taken care of me with great intensity. Whatever I am today or will be tomorrow would be because of you.

In this pic my mom is in Blue Saree on the left and then on right is my mom in law in sea green saree. (I am in the middle enjoying love from both-Yaayyy)

I owe a debt of gratitude to both of them for showering me with love. Here I go thanking them.

My mom- Mom, I love you and will continue to care for you as a promise I made an year back. I have seen you in tremendous pain and have felt helpless at times seeing you cry because I too was going through the same emotions and wanted to cry out loud- I wanted to take out my feelings too but I couldn’t as I knew I had to act stronger in front of you so that I could take care of you. I know you’ve borne me with great difficulties and pain and all sorts of medical problems and I am grateful to you. I want you to take care of your health always and keep smiling. And always remember you are never alone- I will be there for you for you’ve been there for me too. I love you mummmaaaaa….

My mom in law NO my Mom Mumma I love you and believe me you’ve the world’s cutest smile and prettiest face. Your hugs and smile gave me hope to gather loosen threads of my life and move on ahead in life when I was lost. You’ve genuinely taken care of me-hugged me, made me fall asleep when I hadn’t slept for many days. Your loving nature inspires me and you’re my real mentor. I would love to be more like you though I know its difficult but being your daughter I’d ensure to achieve maybe 10% of you. You’ve made me feel comfortable and welcomed in the calm domesticity of your home which you have nourished for many years. You made me feel part of you and your hugs and kisses are like a gift to me which a little girl gets from her mother after doing a good deed!! please love me always -forgive my mistakes and never lose the bright smile you wear. You may not know but your smile is a constant source of inspiration for us, Papa and bhiaya. I also want you to take care of your health. Please don’t ignore your personal pains as you can only take care of us if you’re in best of health.

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Here’s raising a toast for my mommiies……I love you and may we three always share a great camaraderie!

Hoping to meet you both soon touch your feet, give you a warm hug (atleast 5 minutes one not leaving you early………) and just sit next to you…..whiffing your pure smell.

Song that inspires me……. May 11, 2008

Think of THE song that most inspires you to write, whether it gives you an idea for a story, script or just puts you into a better frame of mind AND/OR peek into the lyrics and find a verse that sums up the theme of whatever project it is you’re working on. If possible, post a video of the song to convey to readers the full context of the song and the mood it puts you into. Finally, send the assignment to five other writers to do as well.

Well Yaake as I have been inspirationally tagged on this one by you- here it goes but with a clear declaration that I am not gonna send this assignment to five other writers.

I am always tuned into music even while at work. Music keeps me going and an integral part of me. I have an amazing music collection that comprises of rare hindi black and white classics of 40s to the silky soothing voice of Jagjit Singh ji (he is an idol…..) to the lovely crooning of AR Rehman.

The first paragraph surely indicated I am a hindi music buff but strangely its an english number that inspires me. Its -I am Alive by Celine Dion. This song inspires me to smile and tap my feet at the same time when I am feeling low and fizzed out! And that happens a lot with me. The video (Stuart Little 2 OST) is cute too but its solely the lyrics and crooning of Celine that gives me an assurance I am alive and ready to kickass. I have earlier dedicated a full length post to this song and its effects on me.

The lyrics are too good and define a moment in life where we all feel-where are we going? Where is our life leading us? Questions are left unanswered and the worst life time situation comes and stands face to face-where its doesn’t matter any longer whether someone understands us or not-it is when we don’t understand ourselves.

There is another one which inspires me by its sheer poetry and beautiful rendition of depiction of carelessly chosen words and situation. Its from my favorite singer Sarakti Jaye hai rukh se naqaab ahista ahista by Jagjit Singh ji.

The ghazal lingers on and on and on and on. I don’t feel like coming out of it. The lyrics are beautiful poetry….its sheer beauty..the wordings are carelessly manoeuvred by him and very carefully woven around. This song inspires me to put beauty on paper. I love it and listen to it daily.

Well there are many more songs which are part of my daily musical dietary supplement. Heres a quickie excerpt from the Most Played list in the iPOD. (although the tag doesn’t requires me to mention it but with sincere apologies I am taking full liberties….) sorrry Macha!!!

1. I am alive (obvious)
2. Sarakti jaye hai rukh se naqaab (obvious)
3. Badi Nazuk hai ye manzil (Joggers Park)
4. Jaag Ke kaati saari raina (Lila soundtrack) (if you wanna hear a semi classical song of the current era-this is the BESTEST- if there’s a word like that??????)
5. Aye dil mujhe bata de (Bhai Bhai-50s song) (beautiful song………lovely video)
6. Phoolon ke rang se dil ki kalam se (Dev Anand’s classic) (I love the poetry)
7. Gurus of Peace (AR Rehman and Late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan-song on international integration) (Infact all the songs from His revival Vande Matram album- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRPpSgRqtRc ) I love the flag hoisting in the end….I feel swollen with pride.
8. I just wanna spend my life with you (Neal ‘n’ Nikki OST..if life would have allowed I’d have proposed my life partner singing this song and playing slideshow of our pictures in the background and LOTTSS Of CANDLESSS -I am a hopeless romantic..)
9. Sau Dard hai (Jaanemann- Sonu Nigam’s awesome rendition of love ballad-listen the nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii bit whoooaaaa and how can I forget the chorus????)
10. Kya Mujhe pyar hai (yeah still!!)
11. Teri Yaadein (SAB TV Love Story OST- what a romantic number from a hindi TV serial -one word-MUST LISTEN-if you need to wooo your gf-get hang of your guitar chords and sing this number)
12. Javeda Zindagi (OST Anwar-this a serene song, though slightly long but I love the poetry)
13. SAAWARIYA title track (man I am a devotee of this song….the lyrics are few but the whole musical arrangement takes me by awe……listen to it once just to weigh the power of this song-a classical song-I have written a lot about this song on and on and here I go again!! baaahh)
14. One love (a peppy semi desi number to lift my dancing spirits-trust me I dance on my workstation listening to it much to silly embarassment from ogling eyes)
15. Sochon Ke Jheelon ka Shaher ho (my dream song-wish I could turn it into reality………….I want a city and a house like this PUHLEAAASSSSEEEE pray for me please please fruity please  ;-)  )
16. Tere Bina (Guru-wow what a song- was listening to it in the car after coming back from my own engagement and was thinking how the lyrics were gonna turn true as my fiance was flying back to Auckland one day later!!! ) humdum bin tere kya jeenaaaa HAAYEE )

There are so many more……..aah running out of space and need to go back to take rest…yep I have injured my back and shoulder…….hope everything’s alright-got a chiropractor appointment Monday morning

So long,

fruity

A woman named Pushpa May 7, 2008

Pushpa had missed Rajinder for thirty five long years. Every morning, every evening and every night she could feel his presence around her. She would hear him saying- ‘Pushpa, where’s my tea? I am running late‘. Every morning Pushpa looked at the door and imagined Rajinder walking out of the door with a promise of coming early in evening. Every evening Pushpa looked at the door at sharp 7:15pm presuming Rajinder was back home and taking his tiffin box out of his bag. She would hear him saying that everybody loved her Biryani at office.

Pushpa had worked as a teacher in a government school for probably all her life. She loved her Rahul a lot and never made him feel the absence of his father. Rahul was growing up and had faded memories of his father. He had many friends and was invited to birthday parties frequently. The scar that his father’s death had caused him was removed like an ill-forgotten milk tooth. Pushpa was left with her memories and pain of scars while waiting for Rahul to come home. There was a vacuum inside her which was sucking her inside and making her turn back to memories of past. She was happy in a sad way and was not ready to open herself to an exterior stranger world.

Time was flying and Pushpa was forgetting Pushpa and immersing herself in making Rahul’s life a success. She was standing outside the social circle of people who were once concerned about her and Rahul till Rajinder’s first death anniversary. The same set of people for whom Pushpa was a threat to their otherwise normal happy family structure. The same set of people who might have repeated an umpteenth number of times- ‘if you need any help, please let us know‘; the same set of people who ignored her when she wanted help from somebody to fetch her dead husband’s death certificate.

Rahul was now ready to move out of the house first time for his engineering degree. He was going to Pune and Pushpa was going to an even far insipid territory where she herself had lost track of any human connection. She was now like a barren land which apart from the water was not paid any attention even by the eagles too. Rahul called weekly and told her about the fun he was having at the hostel. Pushpa listened to him calculating mentally about the next month’s mess fee keeping the rising VAT charges in mind.

Rahul got a placement in an MNC in Pune only and Pushpa was content that Rahul was settled in his life. She was content even on the day Rahul got married to his college sweetheart. She was content even on the day Rahul got a job in his hometown and moved in with Pushpa. Radhika was a nice girl and loved Rahul a lot. Both of them were working and had good incomes. Pushpa sometimes talked to Rajinder and discussed how Rahul had made her proud.

Days were passing and Pushpa could sometimes hear some heated arguments coming out of Rahul’s room. One morning before Rahul was leaving for work Pushpa asked her about it. Rahul tried to avoid the subject but gave up and said Radhika wasn’t happy having Pushpa around. Radhika thought of Pushpa as a sad old face who was bringing sad vibes in the house for a newly married couple.

Pushpa could have been sad, odd or bitter but as she was devoid of any human emotions for so many years she nodded her head in approval and asked Rahul to take Radhika’s lead and move on ahead. She didn’t cry the day when both of them packed their bags and left the city. She didn’t cry the day when she heard Radhika was pregnant. But she did cried the day she held Raj who resembled Rajinder’s face. She cried because she felt a human connection after twenty five long years. She loved Raj a lot and was happiest when he spent his summer holidays with her. Raj loved Pushpa and to her he was her world.

Raj was growing and so was his inquisition which dared him to ask his mother why Pushpa didn’t stay with them as now she was retired and old and needed help from the family. Radhika talked to Rahul and decided Raj would attend a summer camp nowforth instead of visiting Pushpa.

Summer came and Raj couldn’t meet Pushpa. Pushpa kept looking at the door since 7am in the morning but he didn’t turn up just like Rajinder. A telephone call from Rahul confirmed the sad news that broke Pushpa’s heart. She still kept looking at the door. The clock striked 7:15pm and she presumed Rajinder to be there. He came that evening and looked at his Pushpa and asked her if she wanted to come with him. She gave an affirmative nod.

Raj was called unexpectedly from the camp and they headed straight to Pushpa’s house. He had never seen the old house full of so many people. Stranger people who came to his father and kept saying-’if you need any help, please let us know‘.

Raj was sad.

Raj is sad when he is writing this story on his grandmother’s tenth death anniversary.

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Why can’t retirement be a new lease of life for Old people instead of being a burden on their children? Why can’t they be taken care of and loved when they need to be loved the most?

As of 2005, there were 1,018 Old Age Homes in India. Of the 739 homes for which detailed information is available, 427 homes are free of cost, 153 old age homes are on a pay and stay basis, and 146 homes have both free as well as pay and stay facilities. Kerala has 186 old age homes, the most of any state. [Source: www.indiatogether.org]

A draft Parents and Senior Citizens Bill, 2007 in Parliament attempts to mandate the care of elderly citizens in law, and envisions the establishment of tribunals to ensure its functioning. Click here to read a heart rendering article.

I’d also suggest that this article should be read in conjugation with the above post to shed a light on the current lifestyle changes that are causing people to make their parents move away- http://mindflirting.wordpress.com/2007/10/11/dowry-laws-boon-or-bane/

Why are our parents alone even when they were around us throughout? They are the wealthiest who have the hands of parents on their head! Please love your parents - they are priceless. - Fruity

MBA with specialization in life May 5, 2008

‘These are beautiful flowers didi, very fresh, offer to the devi-she will make you engineer didi. Please buy them didi ( “Sister” in Hindi). I may have very conveniently ignored her feeble voice at first go but the word engineer rang a bell in my mind. I looked at the tiny little girl standing in front of me with a basket bigger than her own size. There were beautiful garlands of marigold and few loose marigold and roses. I was waiting to get an autorickshaw at Laxminarayan road. She repeated the sentence reminding me of pesky alarm clock which had made my life a turnaround hell. I looked at my watch and realized I was very late for my coaching class. ‘Didi please buy some flowers didi-devi will help you in your MBA didi’- she spoke again in her feeble voice-a voice so thin that it could even cut through my ear drums. I was about to tell her to go away when I realized the sound of MBA quite late. I asked her how did she knew I was trying to do MBA. She smiled and I saw her teeth- two of them widely breached in between. She giggled and said -’all the students who come to the temple either ask for success in Engineering exam or MBA exam, they pray a lot near the idols and I heard them saying it’.

I was obviously very late for my coaching class so I thought of buying garland and offering to the idol. I asked her name. She giggled and said- ‘Dolly’. Her enthusiasm was reflecting brighter than the soil on her torn frock and higher than her small structure. She quickly took the five rupee coin and kept it safely inside her basket. She took a piece of newspaper and quickly rolled a garland with white twine. I secretly wished if I could solve the data interpretation questions with the speed with which she tied the twine around the paper. I went inside the temple and actually prayed for my success in the CAT examination.

She was talking to another young boy when I came out.She was saying with great prominence that her garland were a proved key to success in the Devi maa temple. The boy nodded and immediately gave her a ten rupee note.

I went to her and asked her why doesn’t she goes to the school. She looked at me and answered in her same feeble voice- ‘Baba got his leg amputated in the factory……how can I go to the school..who will feed my little brother?’. I was about to ask her another question when she spotted another young girl and yelled- ‘Aye didi‘. She went to her and came back with another ten rupees.

Before I could talk to her anymore I saw Dolly walking to an old man and saying -’Baba buy garlands for devi - your children will take care of you’.

I wasn’t interested in her sad little story or her struggle for survival. I wasn’t feeling any pity also. I was sure of her because I knew she was an MBA with specialization in life. Her marketing concepts were far clearer than mine. She knew advertising and knew her target audience very well. Her positioning strategy was clear and she was already an expert in Consumer Behavior. And here I was standing wondering over fate of even getting an admission in a reputed institute. I looked at the remaining flower petals which Pujari ji had given me and thought- may be I still have a chance!

Clock strikes One May 4, 2008

*****************************************************PROLOGUE**************************************************

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

Seema was trying to wear all the bangles at one go. One sparkling red bangle broke and the glass scratched her palm, blood came out and she covered it tightly with her other hand. She was scared of messing her heavy Kanjeevaram silk saree. She gave herself a final look in the mirror and guessed something wasn’t right. She quickly opened her sindoor daani and smeared a long streak of her new found status of being married.

Seema was trying to comfort herself in the lonely night on her fragrant bed. Strings of flowers and rose petals and a glass of milk looked new thing to her for her sleep. She was scared as it was her first time. She kept resting her small face on her knees and her hands tightly gripping her muscular legs.

Seema was trying to clean the dinner ware before she could wash the clothes. One sparkling glass slipped out of her hand and scratched her palm, blood came out and she continued washing the plates letting the blood drip along the cold tap water. She was scared of messing the expensive Chinaware. She gave a quick look at the wash basin and knew something was wrong. She quickly opened the pan on the stove and found nothing left to eat.

Seema was waiting whole night before he could come. The clock striked one and she knew something wasn’t right. She looked at the clock and then at the door. She quickly opened the door and removed the shoes and glasses and helped him lie on the bed. She kept ignoring the howlings and covered him with the warm blanket.

Seema was tired and sullen. She felt dizzy and puked a lot. She was waiting again for the clock to strike One. She opened the door. She helped him walk to the bed. He kept howling and took her by a sharp grip and started kissing her with rivulet of saliva flowing down her cheeks and neck. She tried to withdraw as always but he kept digging his iron hands in her soft arm. He kept kissing her and biting her making it difficult to breathe. He threw her on the floor and rode her frivolous frame and kept pouncing her. She wanted to escape but his heaviness didn’t allow her. She closed her eyes tightly and pushed him hard on his hairy chest. He hitted the bed and kept swearing. She tried to move up and he pulled her from her leg.

Seema was pregnant for 9 weeks. Not anymore. He took her back home after filling the discharge papers. She curled herself in the bed and tried to sleep to forget the pain. She got up and looked at the clock-she knew she slept too long. It striked one and she heard the door lock opened. He came in and swaggered his way to the bed. He smiled at her-first time maybe. He hugged her and slowly caressed her back. The caressing reached her lower back and tried to gain an illegitimate access under her clothes. The caressing gave way to lots of finger digging inside her paining flesh. He kept pressing her under his heavy frame making her invisible underneath him. She didn’t retaliate. She kept lying like a dead doll and allowed him to do his daily business. He gave a loud moan and moved quickly to his side of the bed. He dozed off immediately ceasing any clue of her existence ever in the bed.

Seema was looking at his face and the sunray falling on his bearded face. She wished for a second if the sunray could cut through his ugly face or burn him to hell. She wished if the wind could come so strong on him and throw him away in some kind of slaughter house. She wanted strongly to see him inflicted with pain. She took the pillow.

Seema was a young widow. She looked at his smiling face in the photo and how the incense smoke covered his evil side. She removed her sindoor and smiled first time ever since her wedding photo was taken.

*****************************************************EPILOGUE**************************************************

Rape and sexual assault should now be made national sport of India. At the rate(700%) at which it has been increasing since 50s its high time we should promote a sort of International Championship.[We will surely win Gold medal here if not in Olympics]- FRUITY

More than two-thirds of married women in India aged between 15 and 49 have been beaten, raped or forced to provide sex, according to the UN Population Fund.
Domestic violence against women is already illegal, under a 1983 law. But the new law marks the first time India has recognised marital rape. Previously it was impossible to prosecute a man for raping his wife, which was considered to be within his conjugal rights. [SOURCE: The Independent World]

How secure are we- outside or more importantly inside our own homes? Its a crucial question that has been crying for an answer for decades.

Indian Indian bhai bhai April 30, 2008

Its such a refreshing feeling while coming down the elevator from the lonesome niche of 8th floor to the real world with real people. I sometimes get company of a smiling old Kiwi man or a cherubic African girl in the elevator. The face meets and a random ‘hi how are you‘ pops out of the mouth. Bright ‘good mornings‘ are exchanged. I reach office and I prefer taking stairs to reach my 2nd level office instead of the crowded elevator. (Elevators make me dizzy- I am claustrophobic). I generally meet few Indians also near the stair well. No smiles are exchanged- no hellos are said. An awkward feeling sweeps the whole situation waiting to surpass as quick as possible. Indians don’t pass smile when I smile back.

Its not only my office tale. It happens when we are busy shopping groceries in the supermarkets. If we see an Indian they look the saddest. They are always cocconed and have no awareness whatsoever of their native fellow around them. Even if they talk they talk(never in mother tongue but their strange english) with such sudden emergency as if they are being taxed for every word being spoken. Quick ‘bye byes‘ are said on rare occasions. Even if the talks are taken up a higher level than mere ‘hi hellos‘ they proceed to the fact of how long they have been here and their melodramatic struggling saga which bores me to death. They take a certain pride in being living in a foreign land for decades and yet ironically cribbing about the country and its blood sucking taxing system. My head pops out a quetion with a bang -’if you’re so sad and tensed why not leave and go back?‘

Indians will never help Indians. They’re bhai bhais(brother brother) in glossy Karan Johar’s picturesque America drama where the hero (read irritating Shahrukh Khan) breaks out a punjabi number (read Pretty woman in Kal Ho Na Ho) in the street and every Indian starts dancing.

I have many helpful Indian friends too but exceptions are everywhere. I am talking about the general mindset of Indian community here.

TV terror April 29, 2008

Well those who have read my post on Torch or torture know my dilemma while having dinner. Every evening I sit down to enjoy my meal in the calm domesticity of my home. TV plays in the background and evening news is on.

Yesterday the news showed the shocking incident of an Austrian girl who was kidnapped and sexually abused for 24 long years by her own father and bore him seven children. I was deeply tormented by the news and her state. Though the news channel didn’t showed her face or anything but just imagining her in my mind made it hard for me to swallow that itsy bitsy morsel. I was shocked at the atrocities being committed on her from the same man whose moral duties were to protect her. She was imprisoned in a basement for more than twenty four years and subjected to sexual, physical, moral and inhuman torture. I felt icky and somewhere I knew I wanted to throw up.

Today the same news was shown- her father is arrested and has agreed to all the charges on him. I was about to go into the same mood frame as yesterday but thankfully not the news channel announced a quick break and decided to return with a story on food price in Haiti. I felt little relieved and hoped to enjoy my dinner. The news returned with the beaming news anchor in her chic jacket with bright red lipstick as she announced the next story. The story began with a severely malnutritioned kid in Haiti crying bitterly. The reporter showed several kids with swollen bellies and legs (Kwashiorkar) who haven’t eaten anything for weeks. That time only I was thinking of leaving the food in my plate as I felt I was through with my meal. The next images were of food market in Haiti where a simple and staple diet food such as Corn flour costs more than $1 USD. I was shocked to know 80% of Haiti’s people’s income (middle class only) goes in buying food supplies. The Haitian women have come out with a solution to satifsy their crying kids. They make a paste of soil and water and make it in shape of a tortilla and feed their kids. I choked on my morsel and got tears in my eyes.
I saw people fighting wih their own country men over food where I sit in my First world country enjoying 5 courses a day. The kids there don’t even know what food is and here our dust bins even know the taste of Pizza Huts, Subways and McDonalds and KFCs. I felt guilty. I felt depressed. I felt sick.

I want to do something for them but can’t do anything apart from twitching my nails in my hands while watching their grim photos. I can speak a few lines about their dire state. I am here writing a stupid post about it knowing fairly well Haitian’s can’t even read it. I can’t do anything.

I can think about myself as a selfish being and stop watching news while having dinner and enjoy the Simpson’s banter. I can be free of all those worries.

What should I do? I am crossing the line between being ethically barbaric and unethically social. I don’t know, I am disturbed, anguished and sad. I do not know what to do for them? I want to protect myself from falling in the last year visited bout of depression. Is it alright on my part to switch off the channel and be carefree or watch it and crib about it?

What should I do? Please suggest.

….Been Tagged!! (Branding is in) April 27, 2008

Last movie seen in a theatre:
Jodhaa Akbar at Sky City Cinema, Auckland

What book are you reading?
Left Shantaram in between….wanna go back to it but not getting time…Currently reading CAPM study material…..

Favourite board game:
Scrabble and Upwords…….!!! Anytime-Anywhere…

Favorite magazine:
Reader’s Digest….

Favorite smells:
Rain on ground and my dad’s smell

Favorite sound:
Dad asking on phone-Ghar kab aa rahi ho????? Miss it terribly…

Worst feeling in the world:
Losing your loved ones

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
What to wear to work????

Favorite fast food place:
Ummmm Subway and Pizza Hut!!!

Future child’s name:
Uhhhhhhhhhh long time for it…….

Finish this statement, “If I had a lot of money I’d…”
Build my own castle

Do you drive fast?

I don’t like to drive…

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
Yeah sometimes

Storms - Cool or Scary?
Cool but I don’t like the thunderstorm’s sound-it is definitely scary

Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
Stems are the best part of broccoli…..

If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?
Mahogony (that’s my current natural hair color btw)

Name all the different cities/towns you have lived in:
Delhi, Auckland

Favorite sports to watch:
INDO PAK cricket…..its a perfect recipe for entertainment….

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you:
Most likely to have same ranom thoughts as me

What’s under your bed?
Wires connecting to the projector and surrond sound.

Would you like to be born as yourself again?
Offcourse…….

Morning person or night owl?
Evening page 3 person

Over easy or sunny side up?
Sunny side up!

Favourite place to relax:
Delhi’s home in my mom’s lap

Favourite pie:
Pecan and apricot

Favourite ice cream flavor:
Chocolate and Vienesse Coffee

You pass this tag to:
Shanti

Of all the people you tagged this to, who’s most likely to respond first?
Shanti offcourse….

Sometimes somethings……. April 25, 2008

Uncanny lyrics make TASHAN groovy April 25, 2008

I downloaded TASHAN’s OST to the iPOD three weeks back. I am a major Vishal-Shekhar afficiando and TASHAN leaves no doubts on the devotion. I AM A FAN OF ITS LYRICS.

DIL HAARA- I just love the music arrangement here. Its so groovy and heart pulsating that all the corners of the heart go thump thump….. The crooning by Sukhwinder is applaudable and specially from me as I don’t think of him as a great singer because of his repetitive singing style. But Vishal and Shekhar have explored his singing histronics to the very details. Listen to him in the end piece of the song. Listen on full volume. You’ll never feel like coming out of its black loop. The starting though made me wonder oh is it gonna be another of Sukhwinder’s boring rendition? The chorus hooooooooooooooowhhoo is awesome. (Teaser’s clip). Imagine the lyrics Chappan taare tod naach lu, tabadtod naach lu….too good.

Chhaliya- The song opens at a brilliant note. It sounds chic and naughty. No wonder its been chosen for Kareena herself to flaunt her I don’t think so Size 0 figure. She looks malnutritioned and I think she looks really bad. She has got a truly punjabi body frame and should stick to a bit extra pound silhouette to look great like she did in Jab We Met. The song looses completely in middle. Though I keep wondering at the exceptionally chosen lyrics. My fav part is the beginning of the song.

Dil Dance Maare-Ok move sideways people. Here’s raising a toast to V&S for a new found hit. Dil Dance Maare is the new Kajrare or Deewangi Deewangi. The lyrics are a strange mix of hindi, enlish, hinglish and even bhojpuri. White white face dekhe, dil vo beating fast, dil vo sasure chance maare re!!!!!!! Can you imagine a song like this? O GOD..its ostentatious in all positive ways. It grows on you. Although I didn’t liked it at the first go but now I love it. Its hilarious and Udit, Sukhwinder and Sunidhi sound having a ball. The harmonium tune reminds me of 70s.

Falak Tak- Another of my fav after Dil Haara. I hope the video turns out great. Its the sole love ballad in the album. The opening is average Yash Chopra number. The combo of Udit and Mahalaxmi is awesome. The lyrics are beautiful. The imaginative love ballad is beautiful and the music arrangement is good. The dholak sound is good. I love it solely because of the poetry.

Tashan mein- Vishal has teamed with Salim to churn out this title track. Though the bits and pieces of song remind me of Omkaara’s title track. Its a typical V&S number and I love the intelude. Its peppy. But nothing in comparision to title tracks of Cash, Dus or Bluffmaster.

The intro sessions of all 4 characters- My fav is bhaiyyaji ka tashan and bachchan pandey ka tashan.I however didn’t liked Jimmy Ka tashan. Sounds typical Saif. Pooja Ka tashan is average.

I love Dil Haara and Falak tak.

And after my Saawariya’s loooooooong and never ending review- I still have one thing to say-I love Saawariya’s title track. Its intoxicating. Please listen to it once and feel its depth.

Cheers!

*****************************************************************************************************

For exclusive movie review read- http://www.businessofcinema.com/news.php?newsid=8032

I haven’t yet seen it. As soon as I see refer the movie section of my blog!

Most likely to have same random thoughts as me April 23, 2008

It has happened to me so many of those several times that I have lost count completely. I have same random thoughts with people and feel OMG he thinks as I do. When I am reading blogs I come across few posts that seem to jump straight out of my mind and walk across someone else’s blog. The views, expressions and the whole theme runs on the same wavelength as mine with the similar crests and troughs of flow of whole post. I feel a yelling inside my mind- ‘Hey I feel the same too.’ Apart from the blogs; even while chatting with few people I share certain common liking on areas like some rare song/movie/book. I seem to hit off so well. Considering any likeness test (dedicated Facebook fan) I seem to score 96% with such people. Just few days back I was chatting with a new found friend on Gtalk and we seem to hit off really well. we even had same taste in music and opinion on different issues. Yesterday I was blogrolling with Yaake and I discovered a post there on gtalk status. He wrote what I also had observed. I posted a comment on it and he replied what I was doing. His reply was -’I have started adding my blog address as my gtalk status’. No need to mention I am also doing the same. What better way to promote visitors to your blog than advertising the link on your chatting console?

This reminds me of my geomatry class of Similar triangles. The dimensions are not same but yeah the shape and angles are same. The angle point on few issues is perfect simulation of my angles. It looks as if they have been carbon copied. Does it happen with you?

Don’t tell me it does? It perfectly supports the very idea behind this post…..here I go again -OMG

Namonkar Mantra April 18, 2008

I bow to the Arahants, the perfected human beings.
I bow to the Siddhas, liberated bodiless souls.
I bow to the Acharyas, the masters and heads of congregations.
I bow to the Upadhyayas, the spiritual teachers.
I bow to the spiritual practitioners in the universe, Sadhus.

This fivefold obeisance mantra,
Destroys all sins and obstacles,
And of all auspicious repetitions,
Is the first and foremost.

Revamped flirted thoughts April 16, 2008

Today I did something risky. I changed my wordpress theme……after so long. I started this blog in October and since then had the Mistylook theme.

I hope you enjoy this new theme as much as you enjoy reading the blog.

Till then as I say -’Let my mind flirt with thoughts‘.

Cheers!

fruity

Filmy dost April 15, 2008

His inquisition was similar to mine to notice Hrithik’s sixth pinky finger when Kaho Naa Pyar hai was released. More or less I was always satisfied to spot it while watching him challenge the human mucular system in Ek Pal ka jeena. Even before I could really calm his anxious nerves down he had already started stammering at a pace tht poor Shahrukh would feel embarass. The words came out with same monotonic frequencies combined with the usual banal use of head movements. I was just glad it was not complimented with the yelling and shrieking of Kareena with loud words bubbling out with no awareness of around. I asked him to relax and gave him a glass of water. He got little relax and muttered something that only Amitabh Bachchan could understand and decipher. His sounds oozed out of his lips which gave Abhishek a second runnerup trophy for ‘Fattest Lips contest’. I wanted to runout of the situation faster than Akshay Kumar ever ran in his annual relay race of ‘comedy of errors’. Though I couldn’t run out as I was as faithful to the relation as Himesh to his claim of ‘no nasal singing’. My headaches were growing at a pace higher than the rate at which body of Amrita Rao/ Ayesha Takia/ Hansika Motwani/Celina Jaitely grew. I wanted to escape but was stopped by his whimpering state borrowed by after effects of watching Salman attempt comedy. Few more minutes had passed digesting his usual state of repetitive act a la Shiney Ahuja/ Emraan Hashmi. He mellowed down and the next moment came out with an irritating act like Rani’s obsession of trull roles or Preity’s obsession with excessive hard exterior and marshmallow interior looks. The mannerism was fully desi but ashamed to adorn it publicly on the lines of typical Saif or Fardeen. The eyes were droopy with sagging eye bags with space larger than Sanju baba. The hair was rumpled but in a slightly better condition than alfa alfa on Vivek oops Viveik Oberoi’s head. The talks were not even welcomed in my left ear much to the delight of right ear which filtered talks of likes of Uday Chopra/ Zayed Khan/Arbaaz Khan/Aftab Shivdasani/Sohail Khan/Arjun Rampal. The talks were gladly ignored and now sounded as a background score but obviously better than Sunil oops Suneil Shetty’s or Bobby Deol’s baritone. His body frame was shivering and reminded me of all the effects wind had on Shahid Kapoor. The heart was giving refusal to believe he was growing old much to the delight of Anil Kapoor. He wanted me to hang around him but I am no Arshad Warsi/Tushar Kapoor. His eyes were intense but had not yet convinced me as they weren’t as intense as Aamir’s or Ajay Devgan’s. The facial expression were stuck and reminded me of a certain John Abraham or his best friend Dino Morea. His history with me was long forgotten as likes of Chandrachur Singh/Esha Deol/Tanishaa/Amisha. I loved him, criticized him, danced with him, fought with him. He was my friday man. If my mood was good I’d treat him a box office success or else I’d tear him apart doing his critical analysis. He was and he will always be my filmy dost.

Torch or torture? April 12, 2008

Every evening I sit down to have dinner and watch news. The story of worldwide outrage against Olympic torch in various cities upsets me. I see people crying and bleeding for ‘Free Tibet’. The campaign has become a hope of deliverance for people who have lost their home, their country and their family. Chinese media is not reporting anything about it on TV and newspapers. They are showing just the glorious side of the event. The 1956 Melbourne Olympics were the first Olympics that were boycotted by the Netherlands, Spain, and Switzerland, because of the repression of the Hungarian Uprising by the Soviet Union; additionally, Cambodia, Egypt, Iraq, and Lebanon, boycotted the games due to the Suez Crisis. I see young people being tortured by police.

China is going to have tremendous effects to its economy in world standing because of the games. They have tried to wipe the entity of a whole country. They have been trying to claim their share on Indian boundaries also. Does China actually deserve to be the host of such honorable event? Interestingly in year 1979 the People’s Republic of China refused to participate in the Games because Taiwan had been competing under the name “Republic of China”. And now the same country which couldn’t tolerate the nomenclature difference is hosting the gala event and prudly banishing media from reporting real stories of world wide protests.

The torch has lost its beam. It has lost its benevolent illumination of “Citius, Altius, Fortius” (a Latin phrase meaning “Swifter, Higher, Stronger”). The spirit of game is marred by the violent protests and barbaric torture being given to protestors.

China shouldn’t have been given the rights to host. Even if its given atleast the spirit of games can be respected by not torturing the protestors and showing the true picture to its countrymen.

The Tibetan uproar againt China is not going to end till the time the nation is given its identity and the people return to their home.

Lets hope it happens before more blood is spilled!!

Can’t yet let go of him… April 3, 2008

Gina couldn’t forget him. She was still living him. She knew she can’t let go of him. She was alone in her exterior self but knew he was wrapped around her like always. Days had passed so did the months but she knew can’t yet let go of him. Life was moving briskly. Daniel was there too but she knew she was still alone.

Daniel took her out ice skating and for long walks. His presence made Gina miss him even more. She felt guilty of being with Daniel. She felt miserable on her own misery. She was not yet ready to move on. She wanted the moment to freeze and let her be with him.

Daniel took her out for a dinner and told her she looked lovely. She smiled. He even made her laugh on his jokes. ‘Oh you’re so funny, stop it Nick‘ -she was silent. She knew it was said and tarnishly done.

Daniel smiled and said- ‘for one second I also felt like being someone else’s Nick’. He kept looking at her with hundred questions in his disappointed eyes knowing for sure there won’t be any answers. He felt pity at himself -not at Gina. He felt pity why he couldn’t help her forget. He pitied at his status quo of stuck being her friend. He was getting jealous of Nick- a man for whom he had written a beautiful eulogy. He felt mad at himself of feeling jealous of his dead friend. But at that moment all that really mattered was he wanted Gina to love him back as he did.

Gina kept silent. She thought about her wedding vows- the promises of loving till eternity. She knew she was cheating on Nick. She wanted to live with his memories, his old clothes, cologne, guitar, glasses, old stubs of cigarettes and his touch on her fragile body. She knew she can’t go on ahead. She didn’t want to leave Nick in a far unknown insipid space where he knew no one. She wanted to protect him from his agony. She didn’t wanted to make the same mistake of letting him go alone in his sickness or his survival battles in hospital. She knew it she can’t yet let go of him.

Daniel must have left the table while she was thinking about her wedding vows. The maitre’d came and asked -’Ma’am I suppose you’re now by yourself.’ So true -she was truly now by herself and with some bizarre memories of past that were now fading away. She feared for her mind to forget his face or his memories. She wanted to grow old with them. But she wasn’t.

She left the table and followed Daniel. He was walking looking down at the street. Daniel was thinking how the road was trailing behind with his each step forward. It was syllogistic to his trying to go near Gina and her moving away from him. He half convinced his mind to forget ideas of ever having things develop between him and Gina.

Gina called out his name correctly this time. Daniel didn’t look up or turn towards her. His half convinced mind was now stopping his love filled heart to sway once again at her melting looks or proposing voice. He felt the sharp effects of pendulum striking his two sides brutally and not coming out with a noetic decision.

‘I want to enjoy the luxury of turning old without worrying about thoughts of loneliness. I want you to help me forget the pain, the watermark face of Nick or his smell on my body and even his slightest touch. Will you help me?’. Gina knew his next few words would either give her a blow so tight right up her whole sanity or would give her a momentum of hope of being declared innocent from charges of infidelity.

Daniel was happy that the process of convincing was only half way through up his whole system. He was glad it hadn’t yet reached his heart where he preserved a hope for years that she’d be his and he’d be hers. He was happy to know that he was able to enjoy this feeling when it was required and not when it didn’t meant anything significant in his pursuit of life.

He was now prepared to turn back and she knew now it was the moment where she can let go of him.