Category Archives: The Story teller

V is for Visitors

It had been a long day. Her feet hurt and she felt physically ill. I bet I had more footfalls in the house than the neighbourhood cafe

It had started off with their overnight visitors leaving to catch their morning flight. Post that there was a deluge of visitors – Chopra Aunty with her home made laddoos, the bank RM who wanted signatures, nikita’s little friends followed by their mothers, the Aquaguard repair guy, the raddiwala and she had finally ended the day with her husband bringing home an old friend from school who he had bumped into at office.

Why do I never bump into old friends – she wondered as she lay down in bed. Maybe I didn’t make enough friends so the probability of finding one randomly was low. Ritwik was already snoring. As her eyes began to shut, she heard the doorbell ring.

Shit! Not again. As she walked to the door she glanced at the clock -2:30 in the morning. Really? Who can it be at this hour. She peeped through the peephole – Manas at this hour? 

My god! Manas why are you here? What happened? Are you ok?

Manas grinned in his lopsided manner

Slow down with the questions, I just came to say Thank you for being my friend. I am leaving and wanted to say goodbye!

Leaving? For where? Manas what is wrong with you? 

The landline rang and her eyes opened. Ha! It was a dream! 

Can’t believe I am even dreaming about visitors.

She glanced at the clock as she picked up the phone. It was 2:30. The person spoke – her hands went cold, she felt a chill down her spine.

There they were 12 years ago -on a beach in Goa. Manas recklessly going deeper and deeper and she shouting at him to come back. He ignoring her voice irritating her more. When he finally came back she icily told him

If you want to die – at least let me know. So that I stop calling out to you and wasting my breath. 

He grinned in the same lopsided manner

Done! In fact when I die – I will come to you with a whole speech saying thank you for being my friend and then probably saying goodbye.

He had remembered and kept his word after all those years.

I is for interloper

It was the day after her marriage. She clanked her bangles as she went out of the room excited and nervous to start her life as part of the family.

Her Mil was not like the sasumas you saw on TV. A mother of two sons she had proclaimed loudly how excited she was about having a daughter in the house. She sat contently at breakfast listening to all the stories about her son’s childhood.

She felt lucky. Really what more can a girl ask for her?

They were leaving for their honeymoon that night. She was ready for the flight, she went to search for her mil – the door was shut, she pushed it open and her mil and her new husband were counting the money from the reception and talking intently. When she entered the counting and talk both stopped.

She made some excuse and stepped out feeling like an interloper.

She shook her head at her over reaction.

Over the years she shook her head again when she got to know that her mil was traveling to the USA only when the visa arrived, when the family property was sold off to invest into their business, when she knew about her fil’s cataract surgery day only a couple of days after it was advised, when her inlaws didn’t remember where or what she studied or the names of her nieces.

She justified it thinking that it wasn’t important or maybe they didn’t think it mattered to her. She should be happy that she was treated well and by and large her inlaws and she got along. She was after all just like a daughter.

But then why did it hurt her?

She hurried home from work – Mrs chaddha mummyji’s childhood friend was visiting and she had to be there to make her famous pasta and salad. As she prepared the food in the kitchen, she heard Mummyji tell Aunty about the family’s recent trip to Singapore.

A trip she had planned to the last T.

You know Shradha planned the whole trip. We stayed at such an amazing hotel and the best thing about a family trip is the memories you create. I finally got the perfect family picture that I have always wanted. I have even got it enlarged and framed. Help me find a spot in my room for the picture. I want to see my family right before I close my eyes. At my age family is most important.

As Shradha entered the room, she saw the picture mummyji had enlarged. The family grinned back at her. She wondered if she should be flattered as she had taken the picture.

And no it was not a selfie.

Even after 10 years she was an interloper

This is part of the atoz challenge for April and my entry for I. For some weird reason the word interloper has been in my head all day and hence the fictional story

7 year itch

It was seven years ago – they were going to pass out in a month. The farewell dinners had begun, the next week would be placements. Post which they would all step out in the big bad corporate world, go their own ways.

She remembered that night so clearly. It was a pleasant night – he looked so yummy cute in his red fabindia kurta. The night was jovial – lots of dancing, singing and laughing. Her heart skipped many beats, when he belted out Duur.

She looked so cute as she and her girl pals croaked out purani jeans. She really was a terrible singer, but the excitement in her voice while she sportingly sang on tugged his heart-strings.

That night she waited for him online – she wondered if she should just log off and sleep. She was really tired. She gave herself another 5 mins, and another and another. Finally he came online and after around an hour of the topic he said

So what would you say if i asked you out

She said: I think i would not say No

and that was how it was – no flowers, no fireworks going off, no undying declarations of love –

7 years on – There still are no declarations of love, no flowers and the only fireworks that go off are during diwali.

But we have grown up together into real adults, become best friends, laughed, cried, fought mostly over the remote, holidayed, supported each other’s in illness, careers,treks and more. We are comfortable with each other enough to say, do, wear whatever we want and know that the other person still loves you.

i dont have words to describe what we have but there aint no 7 year itch here baby!

p.s. I have scheduled this post at the exact time The Tall One asked me out.
I started off trying to make this a romantic story but after close to two hours of trying, i decided to tell it as it is

Hand in hand for the next 77 years

Hand in hand for the next 77 years

*Photo is the property of nuttie natters*

Monday Musings

Mala could feel tears pricking her eyes as she walked towards the shaadi ka mandap. She knew she should be happy but she couldn’t quieten her thoughts.

Was this marriage equivalent to being separated from her mother? She shook her head – a 16 year old crying over her umbilical cord being cut…!

She could hear murmurs from the crowd as she walked past. She strained her ears to see if they were discussing the age or were they remembering him?

He who meant the world to her – she wondered if she could accept another man in his place.

With a start Mala realized she had reached the mandap and the jai mala was to start.

As the jai-mala took place,she saw him look at her – the warmth in his smile, the adoration in his eyes.

She smiled, took the flowers from her cousin’s hand and joined the others in showering the couple.

She was glad she had supported her mother’s decision to re-marry.

Wordfull Wednesday renamed to “What if” – thank u comfy!

(p.s.Let the corny title not make u wonder why the hell u have me on your reader, surfer or whatever hep mechanism u choose to land on my blog)

OK with so many of u belting out short stories – i have been influenced. This is my first attempting at writing fiction – apart from “a heavily influenced by secret seven” mystery story i had written at seven. So go easy on me plizz

He was 15, she 13…He had asked her out and she said yes. She was shy and he understood. He found her unlike the other girls, found her an enigma – knew she was perfect for him. Even at 13 – she knew he was the “one”- the one she would eventually marry – somehow.

He had asked her for a kiss and she blushed and looked away. He understood.
What he didn’t understand was that she wanted to kiss him – a little peck on his cheek, on numerous occasions. His birthday, the day he looked forlorn about a basketball game he had lost, on the day he felt jealous of her talking to a classmate…but never more than that day on the ship – sailing on a class trip…the stars were beautiful, the sky lit by a beautiful moon, the cool breeze. Their friends had slept, he was awake and so was she – She remembered wanting to walk up to him and kiss him…but instead she lay on the ship and watched the sky. She could feel his eyes on she closed her eyes – knowing that there would be a tomorrow which would be theirs.

She lay in bed and looked at the sky and often remembered that night. She would never know what it felt like to kiss him.

She turned around and hugged her husband – She was happy and loved the life she had made with him.But she wondered if he ever thought about her – at least once in a while.

Things to do

In my constant endeavour to improve myself – it is the beginning of a new quarter and these are the things i need to do on a priority basis on 1st April

1. Tell husband about project in Singapore- from 12th April to 18th June
2. Tell best friend and good friend who is office colleague that i think i am pregnant and will be seeing the doc to confirm tomm
3. Tell blog world the same

But since i nice and all – i shall tell u guys that hehehe..this is all part of my APril Fool plan…

p.s. to update u – have informed bff “Cheeni” – sniff feeling a bit bad, Cheeni almost started crying …(Gulp Gulp) – i am going to get it when i break the news
Tall One too has been told and is currently putting on the “I am supportive” husband look…

Sniff i am feeling bad – i think i wont play any april fool tricks…or should i?

What are your thoughts this first of April????