• The Deal | Short Story 2
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    The Deal | Short Story 2

    The Deal | Short Story 2

    It was a cold day on the 23rd of December 2015. The atmosphere and the song coupled with the view outside his room filled a sense of euphoria and languish in him. Karthik feigned playing the guitar for the entire length of the song. He looked at the mountains visible from his windows and pretended they were his audience and that whatever he played would echo back to him like how sometimes people at concerts do.

    When Coldplay’s “fix you” was over, the next song that started playing was Carlos Santana’s “Europa”. Halfway through this song whatever euphoria was left had vanished. Karthik almost fell out of his window as he saw a cloaked figure in the reflection of the mirror of his cupboard. The figure was standing right near where his back was resting. “What the hell? How did you get in here?

    Mom!”

    “Relax child. You forgot that you are alone right now. I am not here to hurt you boy. I am merely going to grant you your wish. Do you not wish to be a virtuoso?” said the cloaked figure. Karthik remained silent looking at the darkness where the face is supposed to be. “Lets us not waste any more time and I will tell you things as they are. I am the messenger of death here to offer you a deal. I shall give you what you want. You will be able to play the instrument of your choice like a master.

    I shall give you that knowledge and the hands of a maestro. In return, I want ten years from your life. You will die ten years early than you are destined to. I will not tell you how long you will live even though I know it exactly”. The figure took out its arm as if to shake hands. They were eerily human-like even though it wasn’t human. “What do you say, boy? It’s now or never. I am just here to respond to your lament. Don’t you want to play music in these mountains?”

    “I do”

    and he put out his hands to shake. The deal was made. Karthik ran out immediately to the instruments store and purchased the best guitar his pocket money could buy. He took a rickshaw to the nearest sunset point and hiked towards a secret cliff that only he knew the way to. Post that he tuned his guitar and stood there playing songs from afternoon to the evening and right towards the night. He played with all the passion and teary-eyed. He played till his fingers bled. At 12:30 AM, the mountains echoed no more.

    By Anant Pillai

    The Deal | Short Story 2

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    Ram Baba | Short story 1

    Ram Baba | Short story 1

    A boy, a mother, a stranger and the simplest way of learning.

    The sun was setting down to give way to the wintry nights. Like every other evening, Mrs Bhatia took Aarav to the garden to play and for her, it was the evening walk with her friends, she had made there. Aarav got too engrossed in taking the first turn in every ride and started running to next ride completing the previous one.

    A half-hour passed and Mrs Bhatia, who had not missed a single opportunity to talk to every other woman whom she knew there, finally moved her eyes to look for Aarav. Quenching her thirst with water she looked but was not able to find him. The search lead to curiosity, which in turn lead to anxiety. She started looking for him here and there; questioning his friends. Furiously looking, before her anxiety would turn into tension she found him. Deep west in the garden, adjusting his hair, again and again, Aarav was sitting with a group of many young ten-year-olds’.

    …..

    As she walked towards him, she saw an old man wearing a kurta and pyjama sitting in the corner and addressing those young kids. He looked old enough to be seventy-five. Moving closer she noticed each of those kids had a pen and paper in their hands and they were jotting something down. As she reached, she exchanged a smile with the old man and asked Aarav to stand up. As he turned up, Mrs Bhatia looked into his paper and found the word “Ram, Ram” being repeatedly written on the whole paper. She asked Aarav to continue and took a side seat. As the session got over, the old man took all the paper slips and left.

    On her way back, she asked the security guard about the old man. He said the old man was known as “Ram Baba” who stayed nearby and had retired from his work. He lived on his pension with no family and so spent his evening with kids to make them understand and realize the importance of the almighty God in life. Mrs Bhatia was deeply impressed. From the next day, Aarav went there again. She was happy to see that without any force from her end, Aarav started going to ram baba himself.

    Sometimes what the parents, priest, or temples fail to teach, is taught by a random stranger on a random walk i.e. to believe in lord from the heart.

    @ramta jogi

    Ram Baba | Short story 1

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    Take Care! |Life Blog

    Take Care | Life Blog

    The free flow, the collision and the flowing back; the water created all the chaos but still at that moment it was silent. The night was endearing. The sparkling brightness of the stars was at its peak. The moon blossomed adding to the beauty of the night. In the white mud with tiny pebbles scattered all around, they breathed a pleasant air which the water brought with its flow. The beach was creating magic. Everything around them was perfect.

    In the white gown wrapped around her body, with a golden bracelet on her one wrist and a beautifully designed watch on the other, mascara decorating her eyes, she was sitting there and breathing the air of happiness and freedom. Her face was glowing seeing the rush of water touching her feet. Each time the drops caressed her feet, chirpy laughter with an everlasting smile came to her face. She seemed like a small girl clapping and laughing in her own joy irrespective of what was going around.

    And there he was, sitting in the white shirt perfectly ironed and tucked in the elegant black pants. Both hands in the mud to lay support, he was continuously looking at her and living the moment. Her laughter kept a continuous smile on his face. He too was living the moment in her. They knew what was to follow and but they did not want to think about it. It was their day and at that time it was their moment which they were living.

    ….

    Soon she turned her face and saw him watching her. She stared for a while and laughed. Seeing her laughter he smiled again. Their faces found it difficult to turn around and look towards the sea. As long as they looked towards each other, even the time found it hard and difficult to move on. A sudden wave of cold breeze finally made her turn around; he still held his face the same.

    The silence was not killing the moment, instead, it was making the moment and was taking it to the new highs. Her hand waved to let the particles of mud move out from them and her eyes started gazing on her fingers. She smiled seeing her engagement ring and started playing with him. Even in that dark hour, her face was glowing. In the same moment was heard a deep sound of a train horn followed by a movement of the train. The rails were expected to be nearby.

    Finally, after taking it out and wearing again, she fixed it in her finger and gave a sudden look towards him. He was still in the same posture smiling on her very actions. He was very much aware of her playing with the ring.

    “I think it’s time to go”

    she said in the most innocent voice. And without any reply, he stood up and gave his hand to her to do the same. They started walking. Finally getting their legs wet on the seashores, they made their way towards their car.

    The car stopped outside her place. He sat there without moving out. She silently went to her gate and turned back, asking

    “Will you be there for?”

    “No. Leaving tomorrow. Don’t know when I will return” he replied even before letting her complete the question.

     With a goodbye smile, his car left. She stood there with a smile on her face and tears in his eyes. Somewhere down in herself, she knew this answer.

    Years later, the same old city of their welcomed them. In sophisticated dresses, poised etiquette, and formal smiles they met again. In a function filled with many of their known, they met each other. She was joined by her husband and he was their still alone. They faced each other and were not able to talk. Both had stories to tell, memories to share, emotions to show and words to flow. But nothing happened. The eyes were beginning to turn wet and lips went numb. The relation between them was yet not defined but now it didn’t matter even. Before the eyes start to flow its emotions out, they both decide to bid again a goodbye with no hopes and expectation to meet again.

    “Take care” both uttered the words together

    Somewhere between the deep chaos of the waves and the deep silence of the continuously murmuring people at the function, they knew that their love has survived the test of time.

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    Childhood | English Poetry

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    The photograph | Short story | Love


    The photograph | Short story | Love

                                                                   -Revealing the Un-revealed

    The Beginning

    On the table were lying memories. Different pictures captured at different times, different age and with different people, each telling a story of its own. Ananya gazed at them all as if she was living them in her eyes there and then yet again. But it was difficult; it was her past, unheard by many around her, in her presence. Some she had forgotten about, and some she desperately wanted to forget. This was not the first time she was going through these pictures. She wanted to know why many of her precious moments ended and still, she was happy with her life. She searched for her curiosity amongst those memories.

    There was a photograph of her with Anant; her boyfriend during schooldays whom she had met for the first time in Dehradun. A tall, dark and handsome guy with whom she fell in love the very first time they met and dream of a life together. They were just 17. Love seldom showcases understanding, sometimes it just creates an aura of happiness. The same aura, Ananya was living in, then. The surrounding was blurred to them.  She had her first kiss with him. Time went by and maturity knocked the doors, teenage was about to end.  Who did what? Was that right? Who was wrong? What mattered and whatnot, everything needed a justification. Things began to change slowly and were never the same.

    Memories


    She picked up another photograph; Anuja, her best friend at college, who always stood by her in her highs and lows. Enjoyed with her in the hay-days and cried in her sorrow. She was her sole support in the 3 years of college at Delhi. Anuja and Ananya spent most of their time gossiping together. But as she began to realize what her life was meant for and what she should do to make it worthwhile, her priorities changed and so did the people around her. With her changed approach, she had to juggle her life between her best friend and her future, ultimately the relation did not work out.

    With her eyes wet, she kept the photograph down and searched for something which could make her smile.

    She picked up the photo of her teddy bear, which made her wonder who gifted it to her. It was Ansh, her online friend. She met him on a social networking site, who made his way into her life, first through Whats App and then through Skype. At that time, she was working in Kolkata, which also happened to be her hometown. At this stage, she did not want a relationship but was eager to keep herself engaged in some activity apart from work.

    Marriage was not on her cards at least for the next 2 years and so came Ansh. She met Ansh, and gradually their proximity grew. She dated him for a year. When she was with him, she felt liberated. She lost herself within him. She lived this phase of life. It made her more mature and independent. In an effort to feel free, she missed the part of understanding the person in her life. Her constraints of not entering in a relationship and still to be with Ansh confused her and that confused her relationship with hi. She never convinced herself and so knowingly or unknowingly things ended yet again.

    Finally, she kept the pictures aside.

    She realized how something that was once a part of her, does not exist today. Whether it was her first kiss in school with Anant, her sloshed state with Anuja, or losing her virginity with Ansh; each moment was an integral part of her life, which added some spice, excitement and thrill to her life and made her feel ecstatic. But none lasted. Going through the scattered set of pictures she realized how it was not the end in a true sense.

    They always changed their direction and got lost somewhere, with a hope of returning in future. She slowly began to feel good that how she should not be sad as nothing had actually ended in the real sense. The end comes with the closure of certain things or certain people in your life. But that is what the dilemma of life is; the only thing that ends in life is life, rest everything continues, either in present or in memories of the past or in the hope of a better and brighter future.

    Finally..

    She was neither regretting them nor was she satisfied with letting them wave off in the ocean and reaching different shores. Instead, she understood how the memories that the pictures brought back were to make her understand the importance of time and how in each phase of life, each experience mattered and did well to her without affecting her present.

    She searched through them once again, and a picture brought a smile to her face finally. Bringing it close to her and kissed it. She found an empty photo frame. She made her way towards it and put a picture in it. It was of her and her husband with whom she had an arranged marriage. She just had spent over a year with him but still, he was very important to her. What was the thing which made her choose him over others, she never understood?

    She didn’t understand whether she loved him more than Anant or Ansh. Whether she was guilty of not telling him about her past, she never thought of it. She was finally happy with the answers she got. She understood there will be no end to any of the relations she lived; the only end will be that they will be one of these clicked pictures and she wanted to be clicked with a smiling face.

    The door knocked, and she realized it was her husband, keeping all the pictures back in the old bag; where she thought the pictures actually belong and leaving them in the storeroom, she went to open the door.

    @ramta jogi

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    Childhood | English Poetry

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  • The Forgotten Love | Modern Love|Life Blog
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    The Forgotten Love | Modern Love|Life Blog

    The Forgotten Love | Modern Love

    Pre-Marriage

    And somewhere in the midst of two villages a jeep carrying a few passengers stopped. In the scorching heat of summer, the passengers came out and asked the sugarcane vendor for some glasses of juice. He delivered them. The men from the jeep offered the glasses to the women sitting inside. Some belonged to the family of the men outside and some were unknown. One of the men offered a glass to a shy lady among them. She took the glass oblivious of who it was that had offered it to her. The journey continued and they reached their village. The man went to his home and the lady who he had offered the glass of juice to went to her maternal uncle’s place.

    A couple of days later the girl’s maternal uncle was invited to meet an educated guy who works in Calcutta (now Kolkata) and had come down to his village. He was looking for a bride. So, if they were interested, the family of that young man would like to meet them. The girls’ maternal family responded to it positively and so, asked the girl’s father, who belonged to a different village, to come over. They then went to the young man’s home to ask him and his family to visit and meet the prospective bride.

    The elders from the boy’s side came, saw the girl, had a long chat with elders and left. The girl’s family was not sure about the answer they would get. The boy’s family were worried since they thought that the girl was extremely thin and joked that she would get blown away even in a small wind storm. But later, the boy was asked his opinion and he agreed. The date of the wedding was fixed.

    The courtship period began as he left for Calcutta for his job. Letters were exchanged and the occasional telephone calls also began between them. Six months passed this way. Now the marriage was announced and invitation cards were printed.

    Post Marriage

    She shifted from her house to his home and her new life began. Soon after the marriage, he went back to the city for his job while she stayed back in the village. He increased his visits to his village and she, on the other hand, made it her duty to get to know his family better and form good relations with them. A couple of years later she shifted with him to Calcutta.

    It was a different city, a different culture. She started learning and adapting to everything. With the passage of time, they learnt more about each other. A decent, innocent and short-tempered guy and a simple village girl with simpler dreams and aspirations. But both were pure and pious at heart and only wanted happiness in life. This was what brought them together. For them, a grand life, luxuries, and extreme riches were never priorities in life. They wanted to have a good life with their family. That is all.

    They used to go out sometimes. Laugh, fight but, eventually, their day would end with both of them lying together on a single mattress with one pillow. Life was not easy for them. To survive in a big city for village people with small aspirations is always a difficult task. But their support for each other from the very beginning was what kept them going. They faced many struggles, but like on a boat in a sea storm, a hand in your hand gives you way more confidence than the fright you get from the vicious waves of water. They survived and life went on.


    Present Day..

    They are my parents. My mom and my dad. 28 years have passed. They wake up at 7:30 in the morning. When he wakes up early, he disturbs her peaceful sleep because he hates sitting alone. Later he goes to the kitchen and prepares tea for her, to have a reason to wake her up.

    She wakes up and quarrels with him for disturbing her sleep yet again. Both take a newspaper in hand and start sipping their morning tea. She finishes her tea, and he always leaves two sips of tea in the cup for her. She gets angry that he never finishes his tea. He jokingly gives the same answer which he has been giving for 20 odd years, that he has left that much for her out of love. She throws a tantrum but takes the cup and finishes it.

    He leaves for office and she gets engrossed in her work. By the time he returns from work, they have already spoken four times on the phone. Their conversations may take the form of arguments, discussions, teasing but often include a lot of laughter.

    He comes back, asks where the children are and has dinner with them. Post dinner, they again take a couple of hours, to sum up, their day to each other.

    Their old letters are preserved in a locker. Their old memories still make them laugh out loud. The struggles they faced still fill their eyes with tears. Yet, looking at each other gives them strength. All this makes their love grow stronger.

    And here we are on the other side. It seems to me that we have all the modes of communication but nothing to talk about. We argue and fight over petty issues and instead of sorting them out, we sort the other person out of our life. Missing someone is rarely a thing now. Moving on is the latest trend. Understanding and feeling are lost and replaced by the term ‘practicality’. Struggles separate rather than bring two persons together. “Things didn’t work out between us” is a valid argument to end a relationship.

    I feel we have become more isolated in this generation even with the best of means to survive. We seek love everywhere even as love has become so easy to find. Happiness seems to be depreciating as our lifestyles improve.

    Maybe, this shows that love doesn’t need any of it. It is a belief. All those who believe, thrive. The remaining strive.

      Published at Youth ki awaaz

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