FRAGILE – HANDLE WITH CARE – III

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Atul could see the double ticks on all his messages, which meant all were delivered to her and that in turn meant her phone was fine. Probably it was stolen, or she lost it! But No! Anyone would switch it off first, and each time he tried the number the bell was ringing, and Sanika’s caller tune rang in his ears. It was his favourite song ‘You are Beautiful‘ By James Blunt.

He was going over and over the possibilities in his head. What could have happened? He was trying to be rational before reaching any conclusions. He wasn’t a radical person, but it was not Sanika’s thing to be away from her phone that long. Wasn’t it human nature to reach the worst conclusions when there was uncertainty or was it preparing self for the worst?

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Love, I am worried sick. REPLY!!!

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MY IMPRINT ON HEARTS

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Legacy is our mark on this Earth after we are gone. It outlives us, but it’s not immortal because legacy too has a shelf life. Just like sowing a seed which eventually blossoms into a tree laden with fruits and flowers for the reaping of generations to come when we cease to exist, and while they are enjoying its sweet nectar or ambrosial scent they might tell each other “hey, you know, this tree was planted by So & So”.

Do pardon me but I have a small anecdote I must share with you. I love the movie Troy, and at almost the beginning there is a curious dialogue between Thetis, the mother and Achilles, the son.

“If you stay in Larissa, you will find peace. You will find a wonderful woman, and you will have sons and daughters, who will have children. And they’ll all love you…

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5 Ways To Win My Heart

Ohk, so let me think. What are the five ways in which just about anybody can win me over? Let’s get warmed up to the idea.

1. Bring me Flowers. Yes, I love people who bring flowers, they need not be the high-end Orchids or Calla Lillies, they can be Tuberoses or pure just few Roses. I know many girls are into teddy bears and chocolates and other romantically cheesy stuff, not me.

2. Pay respects to my parents. Yes, whoever you are, even if you are my enemy, if you pay your respects and regards to my parents, you will win my heart.

3. You have to love Music & Movies. I adjust well to people who breathe music or are hardcore movie buffs. I mean then we will have so much to talk about and discuss and debate and argue over that you will eventually win my heart.

4. Be an avid reader. I love people who are readers. I believe they have a certain depth and intellect to them. They are great listeners, and impressive speakers plus you automatically come to know that they have the power to imagine. I love to be creative, floral and capricious with my thoughts.

5. Don’t be clingy. Give me my space, and I will give you yours. I so leave me alone when you feel I want my time and I will come back to you sooner than you would have believed. I need solitude to sort my mind and stay stable.

So that’s that, if you have those five things in you, no way I won’t be genial to you. I would probably like you a lot.

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On Father’s Day

My Dearest Papa,

Hugs Hugs Hugs🤗🤗🤗. I am back, with yet another letter on yet another Father’s Day. So first is first. I Missed You, lots and lots. I Love You and think of you every day won’t say it doesn’t hurt anymore, it does, it still does, but see, it’s healing. I am doing good, I know you already know but let me say it and feel the words in my bones “I am doing good”. I get all the help you send me, the gifts too, and the flowers. Yeahhhh, I got those Mogra you used to get for me, they are growing in the plants of our patio and the cake you sent through my cousin on my birthday, I got that too. I got your birthday present also, along with your message to hone my creative writing. I am working on it, I know that you are expecting something great from me this year, I am trying hard to deliver.

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This one reminds me of all the times when I would tell you to take me along on your tours obliviously making you helpless.

I know you have scolded me twice these days for binging on sweets, I am trying to get off them but you I have a weakness for sweets. You know, I am learning so much, trying to use significant words as you did. You remember that time when I was just four or five, that summer you took Mum and me and Uncle to Nainital, and we were strolling down the Mall Road there while I was holding your finger in my fist. Sure you do remember, how often you used to tell me that anecdote of mine when I would leave your hand and walk into any store that had glittering lights and colours and then you had to pick me up so I won’t walk away. You know I remember a li’l bit of that day too. I remember you talking to uncle, and you used a particular word that seemed like a real heavy and tough word to me, I practised it, memorised it, because I wanted to be like you, you were always my hero. That word was “of course”, haha, yeahh, such a simple word but to me, it was no less than Oxford dictionary back then. But now I can even make out what Shashi Tharoor says, haha. I so wish you could see me today, but then, you are always watching over me.

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This one is so you and me Papa, I remember how you used to cover me within a blanket and tell me it’s our cave.

Mumma is better, thank you for that. She dances sometimes; it makes my heart ache with pride. She has a fighters spirit. So much she lost but not once she let her pain reach me and she learned to be on her own. It makes a weight lift off my chest when I see her laugh and dance. Now, she even goes to movies sometimes, and you won’t believe how tech savvy she has become since her new phone. She misses you, she still needs you but what’s sanguine is the fact that she believes in her heart that you are still with us, that’s her strength, it keeps her going. She isn’t even angry at God like me. Papa, sometimes, without a reason, just like you did, she kisses me and loves me, now I don’t need to prompt her to do it, she does it on her own, thank you, Papa.

I won’t say life is a bed of Roses, but it’s not a walk on embers either. There are new wounds on both of us, on our person and our hearts but we stand after each fall, we hold each other securely. Wagon R has got old, and so has your Blackberry, I think they both will have to go. I think we will be selling your office soon. No, not for the money, but just because it’s in a dilapidated condition and it hurts to see it like that. You must be wondering, what’s with the letting go thing. You know after this long time what I realised, I will have to let go off all your materialistic things, tangible things one day, just like I had to let go of your physical presence, but I won’t ever ever ever let go on you, your memories, your values and your love. Yes, I would miss calling it ‘Papa’s car’, ‘Papa’s Phone’, I would miss calling it ‘Papa’s Office’ just like I miss calling you ‘Papa’. I miss all those love names; I miss the pseudo fights, I miss those long conversations and that companionable silence. I miss your footfalls in the corridor and your positivity in my heart.

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This makes me so nostalgic, I can still hear your voice when you had promised me that you are my wall and till you are with me, nothing bad or evil touches me.

There’s so much to say; I am not done yet. But then I can write volumes and tomes to you. I wish this weren’t a one-sided talk; I wish you were here and talking to me right now. I wish Mum had you by her side and I didn’t have to see that shadow of feeling odd one out between couples. I almost get so nostalgic for your voice that it’s unbearable.

You know I didn’t want to grow up. Sometimes I still feel like whining and throwing a tantrum that I want you. I still want to be the unreasonable li’l girl that wanted her father in hard times, bad times, good times, fun times; testing times come what may. The girl who called you up in Chennai and told you to come back home sooner and you humoured her with a beautiful lie by saying Yes. I want to wait for you at the door, checking the time every few minutes and run to you at the sounds of your wheels on the gravel, run like the wind in your arms and not let go. I want to forget everything except the father who didn’t just gave me life but taught me how to live it with my head held high. But, I am proud to say that the li’l girl is a bittersweet memory to me now and this woman writing to you has finally decided to grow up. She’s matured and wants to shoulder her responsibility. Just stay by my side and guide me on the way. You are still my Hero!

Happy Father’s Day Papa! 🌹
I Love You Forever And Ever❤️❤️❤️

Your loving daughter,
Gudiya

PS: You have left everything that was once yours with me but remembers, you still owe me perfume and 2.5 Lacs, and I always have been a good bookkeeper.

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Raised From The Pit – XIII

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The next morning Binoy woke up in the same old ramshackle and dilapidated hut that was home to the four boys. He saw all the other three boys sleeping and didn’t disturb them; it was a li’l too early to start the day. He went through his old morning routine and then went to the shopkeeper who used to give him roses to sell.

“Kaka, Roses?” Binoy asked in an accustomed tone.

The shopkeeper looked up and did a double take. “Binoy??!!! You? Here?” Kaka’s face was like a picture that changed emotions with realisation and Binoy’s head hung.

“What are you doing back here? I was told you had been taken up to live with some rich and educated couple to their home.” Kaka’s tone was part accusatory and part melancholic. He took one glimpse at Binoy’s fallen face and nodded with lowered eyes. “Ohhh!!! So it was the…

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RAISED FROM THE PIT- XII

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“Bhaiya, I want to tell you something.” Binoy bit his lower lip contemplating if to spill the truth or fabricate a new lie. The facts might let Aru Di believe him, but Arnab Bhaiya would surely go back to being dubious and apathetic towards him and that too when they had just bonded. He couldn’t risk it. If he had to leave this place, then he would not be thrown out like a thief but go quietly letting them believe he was just a good-for-nothing boy.

He must have looked silly standing there thinking because Arnab stood up and came to Binoy placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him hard.

“Binoy! You wanted to me something?” Asked Arnab and Binoy gulped, nodding.

“Three….I…I saw…..” Binoy was sweating now “I saw three rats creating racquet in the kitchen!!!” He lied.

Arunima got up at once, “NO! Not the rats…

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RAISED FROM THE PIT – IX

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Three months, 90 days, they were someone’s vacation, someone’s honeymoon, someone’s first trimester, someone’s school term but for Binoy, the three months on the roads were a harsh teacher, an experience that taught him some hard driven lessons that would stay with him one lifetime. To sleep on an empty stomach, to be towed from one place to another by the police at night, to be shooed away by the people in posh cars like a stray dog and to live alone, all alone, and no one to call his own.

Binoy was not a kid. He was a boy of 14, a teenager as indecisive, rebellious and confused as any other boy of his age. His body was changing, and so were his thought process, his beliefs and his ideals. A time when boys need a mother to help shape her son’s future and a father to guide him…

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