Regret and Revenge

She pulled the trigger with all her force. The gunshot went and pierced his head. He fell down in the pool of blood. The sound of the shot was still ringing in her ears. It was so loud that she had turned momentarily deaf. Her knees wobbled like jelly. She collapsed on the ground, shivering.

She took off her gloves and stuffed them into her bag. She looked around for any sign of her belongings. She smiled at her planning tactics. Nobody will ever find out who killed this bastard. Nobody. She had alibis everywhere. Even if they did, she wouldn't be having any regrets. She wanted justice, she got it. She drove at a maddening speed to her mansion. She took a bath and wore a black dress. She bought two bunches of fresh roses and made way to the cementary.

She put down the first bunch on a grave covered with mosses and ferns.

"Your love for gardening will never go away. Right?"

She placed the flowers and sat next to the grave.

"You know what I killed him. I am not afraid. But you know I am still angry. I failed as a mother. Hmmm... It is a bit lonely without you. There are times when I want to wrap my arms around you and feel your warmth. I want to pull your tie and look into your eyes and romance with you. How stupid am I? When you were there I rarely looked up from my file. It is pointless to say all this but know that I miss you."

She ruffled the grass on the top of his grave. The greenery fed from her tears . She took a deep breath and placed the other bunch on the grave next to it.

"How is my little princess doing? Mia I miss you beta. You could have just told mumma once. I would have left everything. Why did you not trust mumma? I know I ask you this question everytime but I need an answer Mia. Mumma requires an answer. Mumma did not spare that man and remember I gave him the worst death that was possible. Had you told me once I would have still killed him but atleast you would have been with me. Your room feels so quiet. Nobody listens to rock songs. Leave it today is a happy day , no sad thoughts. See what mumma has brought for you. Red roses. You love them na? Even your dad did. Mia is there anything else that you are hiding from me? "

She broke into sobs. She felt a hand on her shoulder. An old lady smiled to her.

"It will be fine. They are with God. He'll take good care of them", she spoke with love in her voice.

She stood up. And went towards the gate. She saw the old lady waiting for something.

"Do you need a ride back home?"

"Well that would be lovely. Just drop me by the church."

She sank in the sofa staring at the portrait of her once happy family. Her husband and her daughter. Her husband died in a car accident few years ago. Mia couldn't bear the loss of her father.

She became workaholic. She spent most of her time in meetings and files. She knew Mia needed her but she also knew that she needed to provide her with a comfortable future. Unable to cope up with the pressure Mia was found hanging from the fan.

She was shattered. Everyone blamed it on her father's death and the negligent behaviour of the mother. If only she knew that Mia would take such a step. Many at times she would come late and find Mia sleeping blissfully in her room. She felt defeated. By destiny and kept on blaming it on herself.

One fine evening while she was cleaning Mia's wardrobe she found a diary.

23 March

He again came and patted me on my head. His hand slithered on my back and made its way inside my top. I wanted to move away but he held me tight. His devilish smile. I wanted mum to come early but I knew she wouldn't. He kept touching me again and again.

She flipped the pages.

27 March

He was standing at the door. He did not let me leave. He pushed me down...

The rest of the words were blurred perhaps the ink diluted with her daughter's tears.

14 April

I can't take it anymore. I think I am pregnant. How will I tell mum? I missed my periods. I searched online. What will all my friends think? But one day I will take revenge Mr. Manorath Kripashankar. I will.

She closed the diary. Her daughter was a victim of sexual abuse.

"Manorath? How could he do it? I trusted him so much."

Manorath was a political leader in the district who helped her when her husband died. He was like her elder brother. But then her daughter had to pay for the trust she put into a person who deserved none.

She vowed revenge. "Mia was alone Manorath so am I but this time you'll know what a woman is capable of doing."

She started making advances towards Manorath on the pretense of lonliness. Manorath being a lewd pig fell for it instantly. She spent months planning her revenge skillfully without any flaws. She awaited the final day like a tigress awaiting her final kill.

Manorath poured a glass of wine for her.

"Ah! You look so lovely. But these gloves don't match the dress. Some new fashion?"

She smiled. She lured him in to a weekend escapade without bringing it in knowledge of anyone. In an isolated farm house they dined together.

He started coughing violently grasping his throat.

"I can't breathe."

His chest heaved and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"Feeling suffocated Manorath", she questioned and then laughed hysterically.

"What the hell are you upto? Call the ambulance."

"My daughter felt the same everytime your slithering motives and moves progressed in her direction. Don't worry it wouldn't last long. You'll die in like half an hour. It is a slow poison. Till then let me enjoy seeing you wither and dance in pain. You spineless man. Mia was just 15. You could have got any prostitute on your bed, why my daughter? I trusted you but then trust doesn't always pay, does it? You did trust me as well."

All color drained from his face. Nothing was said. He knew he wouldn't be spared.

He started frantically moving towards the alarm board. Panicking she took out the gun and shot. This was not in her plan but then he had to die either ways.  She sighed.

"Life isn't fair. Someday we all have to pay for the sins we commit. I loved my family. But then I never thought I'll get no time to spend with them. How effortlessly I believed that I'll spend the rest of my life with them. Life is cruel. Life is smart. It teaches you all the lessons the harsh way."

"Mia I am sorry."

Imperfectly Perfect

She stood in one corner of the bus holding the bar above her head tightly. The roads always provided her an adventurous ride to office. Just then the bus halted causing her to bump into the man standing in front of her.

"I am sorry", she spoke softly.

The man startled by the mesmerizing voice turned his head to find a veiled woman with beautiful kohled eyes. Her eyes spoke volumes. He cursed the bad weather of the city and the pollution mentally. Had the weather been good he would have got a glimpse of her beautiful face. He kept staring at her causing her great discomfort. She coughed gently to awaken him from his slumber and bring him back to reality.

"Umm yes yes it is okay. These roads can make any one to a disco dance in bus."

She averted her gaze.

"Shit my sense of humour badly failed", he ridiculed his own self.

On the next stop she got down.

It had been 15 days since they both travelled together on the same route but none of them spoke to each other. He did not want to be misunderstood for some roadside Romeo but was deeply intrigued by the girl. And then one fine day he got a seat next to her. The dark clouds covering the sky, the winds gaining momentum and the sounds of thunder. With every gush of wind he would expectantly look at her wishing her veil to fly and give him a glimpse of how she looked but to his utter bad luck the veil was tight enough to withstand the force of wind.

"The weather is really nice", he stammered as he spoke.

"Yes it is", she replied to his amazement.

"The wind feels like velvet on the face. Wouldn't you like to feel that", he tried his luck yet again.

"Ahaaan bad idea I guess."

This was their first conversation. Over a period of a month they became good enough acquaintances. They'd bid each other good morning and goodbyes. He came to know that her name was Amrita and she worked for an MNC. She came to know that his name was Pritesh and he worked in the bank. They'd occasionally talk about their work and families. They had exchanged their numbers. Late night whatsapping and phone calls. She was not on Facebook else he would have sent her a request as well. Pritesh before he could understand was falling in love. One fine day he mustered the courage to ask her out for a cup of coffee. She denied.

Back at her home she sat on her bed thinking about him. After so many years she felt so alive. The daily bus rides that she cursed were now the ones she awaited. She liked his honesty. But then what about her truth? How long could she have hidden that? Would he love her even after knowing that? She was spinning her dreams on the bedrock of lies. She went to the mirror in her room whose gaze she avoided every morning. She ran her fingers across her cheek and then to her lips. She pressed her lips together. Memories of that unfateful day haunted her yet again.

3 Years ago

She was walking down the road coming back from college. It was the last day of her college. A beautiful girl was walking ahead of her. Oblivious to the impending doom she fastened her pace to catch the glimpse of that girl. And suddenly she felt ice cold water on her hand and face and screams. That was followed by a burning sensation. She couldn't decipher what happened.

She woke up in the hospital.

*Two girls face acid attacks. The attackers absconding.*

She was stunned. She was angry at God because this was unfair. She wasn't in any relationship, neither did any guy ever approach her. It was later that she came to know that the real victim was the girl next to her who couldn't survive the attack. She was scathed because she was next to her. She cursed her luck endlessly. She cursed that moment when her curiosity got better of her. Had she kept walking at her own pace she could have been saved. Only if.

She spent days, weeks and months regretting her decisions. She stared at the mirror and then break into sobs. She was a decent looking girl but that accident took away everything. Her face looked like a mass of flesh, her lips disfigured. She underwent 13 surgeries for them to perform normally and look okay but still it was far from normal. For months she did not step out fearing what reaction would she get. She was tired of the endless sympathies people gave. She required none. With time she felt more and more repressed and agitated sitting back at home. Her face now no none made a difference. She understood that if she could get used to it then obviously people would also get that. She gathered the fragments of her life and reformed them molding them back into how she envisioned them an year ago. She applied for a job. Many at times kids would point at her and shout to their mothers "mom ghost". But then she knew they were naive. She would go to them and tell them that she wasn't a ghost. Her friendly demeanor won everyone's heart. She veiled herself to prevent her skin from infection and also to prevent getting sympathy and weird glances all the time.

But then after meeting Pritesh she again started contemplating if she was good enough. She again started wishing for a flawless skin. This is what love does to you. It makes you insecure, makes you wonder if you are good enough. Is this what love is? What if he rejects her? What if? She had nothing to lose except the a guy who couldn't look past her looks. It was a wild bet but then it was one she found worth playing for.

She boarded the bus.

“Well would you like to go for a coffee”, she asked nervously.

Pritesh finally felt elated.

“Yes sure.”

“Pritesh before anything else I guess let’s face each other.”

Pritesh waited with baited breath. Finally the girl he dreamt of day and night would unveil herself. She gently took off her scarf.

All his aspirations fell down like a castle made of playing cards. He was crestfallen. Her slightly charred lip, uneven complexion gave him goosebumps. Suddenly the alluring princess did not appear that attractive to him. He was in a fix how to tell her that though he liked her still he wasn’t able to accept her. His silence said it all. She stared at her phone and faked a call.

“I am sorry. I have to leave.”

“Umm okay see you tomorrow.”

He sat there in silence, shocked and completely dejected.

“She was supposed to be my dream girl. Well but okay fine.”

“Finding love is pretty difficult and with a face like mine a little more difficult”, she smiled.

As expected she never saw Pritesh again in the same bus. Her eyes searched for him continuously. She also lost a friend. She did not harbor any hatred towards him. She was pragmatic enough to understand that he was also a human being. He was not some saint. It would be stupid to expect him to love her unconditionally. It was not a Hindi movie going on anyways. Days passed and all her anxiety was put to rest. Her usual regime continued.

One fine evening she was sitting in her office when she received a note

Amrita

Not that my liking for you was fake, not that I am a beauty obsessed person. Call me a coward but I am not that brave to accept you and make a life with you. You are an exceptionally nice girl and I am not the one for you. I wrote this because I did not want you to think that there is some fault in you. You are perfect I am not. You will get a better guy. You deserve better. All the best for life. 

Your friend for life

Pritesh

She smiled and kept the note in her drawer. She knew he was right.

An Invaluable Lesson

"How am I looking Maa", asked Nandini holding her wedding dress in front of her.

Her mother hastily looked at her and smiled reassuring her that she looked just like a fairy. Nandini jumped with joy. The entire house was brimming with relatives and people from the neighborhood. The aunties singing wedding songs, the uncles shouting and yelling at workers to decorate the home fast, her father instructing the caterer giving special instructions, her mother attending the guests and taking care of every other details. Nandini sat between the ladies who were singing the wedding sagas. She started dancing.

Someone teased her.

"Nandini your mother-in-law wouldn't be this liberal. Now tame your childishness."

"Aunty why would she do that? I will be just like her daughter na", asked Nandini who was perplexed.

"Arre that is just for sake of saying. Mother-in-laws are your biggest rivals. They will control you and try to dominate you", added another.

"Nandini take your husband in your control or else be ready to slave them", added another lady.

"Haven't you seen that TV serial "Kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi", questioned the fat aunty who was munching continuously on snacks.

They all laughed and kept teasing her leaving Nandini more uncomfortable and restless about her marriage. She started contemplating the behaviour of her future mother-in-law.

"Yes she is a little strict but I guess she was liberal with her son why would she differentiate? But what if she does? Who will support me then?"

She kept thinking. She looked at her mother who was a mute spectator t in the entire conversation. She felt a little strange because usually her mother participated in every discussion. Today her silence signified that perhaps there was something more to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nandini are you asleep", asked her mother peeping into her room.

"No mom. Just a little anxious."

"Mind going out for a walk?"

"Mom don't you think it is too late?

"No I need to talk to you. It is your last night in this home. I guess we do need some time together. There is so much hustle bustle in the home and I want some uninterrupted time. Get up, take a shawl and come."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The breeze outside was cool. The star lit sky lightened their path. The moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds. The occasional chirps of a cricket was breaking the silence. The leaves under their feet cracked. It was autumn. The trees appeared orangish and their leaves adorned the ground more than their stems. They kept walking for a while. She waited for her mother to speak.

"I was married at a tender age of 19. Both my parents died when I was 12. My mamaji got me married to your father. When I was going to enter your father's house I was very scared. I had heard from people that my mother- in-law was a very strict lady. All the stories I heard while growing up wherein the mothers-in-law mistreated the daughters-in-law came to my mind. My mother-in-law whom you called as your Grandmother was a very authoritative figure in the home."

"Hmmmmm", Nandini listened with rapt attention.

"My mamaji was not that rich still he managed to arrange decently for the marriage. But when I came here I had no ornaments. I was sitting in the drawing room when all the other ladies started pointing that out. They taunted me and my family. I felt so humiliated under my veil that tears began welling up in my eyes. Just then your Grandmother came with a box full of jewellery telling everyone how she forgot to give me my jewellery that my Mamaji gave her. I looked at her with questioning eyes. She pressed my hand signaling me to keep quiet. That was my first meeting with her. Those were her jewellary which she brought out to save my grace."

Her mother's voice was shaking. Still she continued.

"Later that day when I was asked to cook food by all the other relatives. I had no prior knowledge of cooking and perhaps your Grandmother sensed that. As I stood helpless in the kitchen she secretly entered the kitchen and cooked the "Kheer". I was praise by everyone and of all she came first and handed me another necklace telling everyone how lucky she was to have me. Nandini my Mamiji loved me yet for the first time I felt a mother's love. Two times in a row she helped me. I respected her but then I started to love her like she was my own mother. She was different from what people said about mothers in law. She never restricted me. She was more like a mother always telling me where I was right or wrong."

"That is really unbelievable Maa. Wish I could have been with Grandma."

"Still I knew that if she had to choose between her son and me , she would choose her son but soon even this misconception got washed away. One day your father and I had a heated argument. We were in our room and he slapped me. That slap was not just on my face but on my respect. I felt my dignity was outraged. He opened the door and walked out. Amma called him. I still remember every detail.

Flashback

"Did you hit her?"

*Silence*

"I asked you did you hit her?"

"Maa it is our argument you do not fall into it."

*Slap*

"How dare did you hit my daughter. Is this what we have taught you all our life. I feel ashamed being your mother. You have just proved that there is some fault in our upbringing. That girl left her entire family and came to yours and accepted your family. She is adjusting day and night and this is what you give her in return? If a verbal fight was going on why did you raise your hand? What did you think there is no one to defend her? Did you feel insulted when I slapped you? Similarly she felt insulted when you did the same. Put yourself in her shoes and think. She is my daughter and dare you even try to raise your hand again. Just because you are my son doesn't mean I will take your side. Go and apologize right now and by right now I mean now."

Flashback end

"What???? You mean to say Grandma slapped Dad because he slapped you", Nandini stood gaping at her mother.

"Yes Nandu. Later she did come to me and told me that as a mother it is her responsibility to stop her son from indulging into domestic violence and being the daughter of that house I should be respected. Ever since that day your father did not even raise his voice."

"Oh my God that is unbelievable. Grandma was a fearless lady indeed", chirped Nandini.

"Hmmm yes she was. When you were in my womb everyone secretly prayed for it to be a boy. All near and dear relatives blessed me to have a sweet boy and then you were born. The entire house mourned except your Grandma. She gave a big party and named you. She was very happy and told everyone that Goddess Laxmi has come. Even I felt a little dejected. But she came and consoled me telling me that it was God's desire. I loved you my daughter yet because of the social norms I felt sad and hopeless."

"Maa you were not happy with me being born", she stuck her lower lip out.

"Beta it is not like that errr....."

"Maa it is okay I understand . Please continue."

"What continue? Well even on her death bed when she got terminally ill she kept arguing with your father to allow me to do a job. She won the fight but lost to that disease. The only regret I have is not being able to give her my first salary. Every day and night I keep her in my prayers . I feel at peace when I talk to her portrait. She is my motivator even now. Somehow I feel her presence even now."

Her mother wiped her eye lashes. She broke down. Composing herself she continued.

"The reason I told you this is not because I wanted to glorify your Grandmother but because I want you to believe that mothers-in-law are also mothers. They are not villains as they show on the television. Do not fear your new home and do not have prejudices about people you know. Initially everyone has difficulties adjusting to a new place. Just remember you future mother in law is as much as a mother to you as I am. You do not need to control her or her son to earn your respect. Love that family unconditionally and they will love you back."

She hugged her daughter. Nandini felt a lump in her throat. She felt like crying yet she felt relieved because now she was happy going to her new home.

"Thank you Maa. This is one of the most invaluable lessons that you have taught me."

"Lets go back now. Everyone would be searching the bride", her mother smiled mischievously.

She Refused to QUIT!!

The phone beeped.
*Congratulations on clearing the written exam of Infosys. Kindly download your interview call letter from your registered email id for the placement drive at New Delhi on 25th September, 2014.*
She smiled.
"Finally I did it. Maa I am going to the cyber cafe. I'll be back in a few minutes."
She took out her cycle and rushed to the nearest cyber cafe which was around a kilometer away from her place. The heat was unbearable. She was sweating profusely yet it made no difference to the enthusiasm she carried in her heart. She parked and chained her cycle and entered the cafe.
She felt proud holding her call letter. She was among the very few who cleared the written round. Again she climbed on her cycle and paddled at lightening speed to her way back home.
"Appa would be very happy. Now I can support my family. Under any circumstance I will grab this job", she thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hmmmm How will you go to Delhi? Will you get a job in Delhi?", Appa inquired sternly.
"Appa I don't know where I will be joining. It is the interview round", she spoke meekly.
"Let me discuss it with some knowledgable people in our colony. Mr. Shrivastava would know better. His son is also working in New Delhi."

She lived in a small town 170 kilometers away from Lucknow. She was glad that she got a chance to graduate. Most of the girls were married off early or not even given a chance to continue their education after class 12th. Her society had still not come to terms with the advancements going in the country. Somehow the motivational speeches and assurances of ministers never reached her town. Her town continued it's life in their blissful ignorance. It was tough decision for her father to allow her to study. He faced the wrath of the society but he never said anything. He always asked her to continue doing her work irrespective of what people had to comment. He taught her that it is important for her to fight back but not with her words but her actions. She had to prove everyone that being a girl she was equally competent. Her father trusted her immensly and she vowed never to break it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh ho Tripathi saab you are sending your daughter to Delhi now for a job? Are you still not satisfied that she is a graduate? Now you want to eat off her salary", taunted Mrs. Shrivastava when her father went to seek Mr. Shrivastava's advice in the evening.
"No bhabhi. She wants to do a job. And she is educated so not doing a job would be wastage of the talent and skill she has."
She stood still next to her father glaring at Mrs. Shrivastava.
"Her own daughter sits at home all day talking and watching television wasting her time, she wouldn't say a word to her", her thoughts were fuming.

"Vaise Tripathi Saab last year Misra ji also sent his daughter for a job. People were telling me she was caught living with 4 boys and even accused of doing prostitution. Tauba Tauba Tch Tch!!! Such shameless girls are a blot on the society. Her father sent her for a job and she did this. This is what happens in bigger cities. These girls lose their character, drink and smoke and roam with boys. These are the kind of girls who get raped or sell their bodies", Mrs . Shrivastava venom to the atmosphere with her viscious words and evil smile.

"Bhabhiji why are you telling me this? I have full confidence in my daughter. I'll take my leave now. Tell Mr. Shrivastava that I came," her father replied and ushered her to move as well.
"Tripathi Saab hope you don't regret your decision." Mrs. Shrivastava slammed the door shut.
The echo resonated in her ears. Tears of humiliation formed in her eyes. She came back home and announced that she did not wish to go anywhere.
Her father came and sat down next to her.
"So you are quitting? So easily? This is not even one hundredth of the evil that you will be facing out of the down. How can my brave daughter be detered by useless words of a neighbour. You will go and prove them wrong.  You need to understand the responsibility you have on your shoulders. See one wrong step by Misra ji's daughter has closed doors for many girls who aspired to work. You have to go out and set another example, a motivating one so that when people quote the bad things there is some little hope generated by telling that not everyone faces the ills of the society and not everyone succumbs to the pressures. You are not just going for yourself but for all theses young girls who will graduate one day. Those who would want to do a job. You represent not only us but all the females around."
She felt ashamed of having thoughts about quitting. She wiped her tears away.
"Appa I am sorry to let you down but I promise I will come back with an job."

She had four days in hand. She started preparing for her interview. She revised and revised. Her mother washed, starched and ironed her favorite kurta. She beamed seeing her dress. She kept all her certificates in a folder her father got for her. Her father got her seat reserved in an AC compartment which was a luxury for her because he did not want her to feel tired after the journey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bye all the best. Make me proud", her father waved as her train gained momentum.


She entered the premises of the building where her interview was going to be held. She saw everyone clad in shirts and trousers. Their clothes radiating the aroma of newness and the royalty they live in. Almost no one was wearing a kurta. The girls were speaking in English continuously. All of sudden her kurta did not feel as special as it did minutes ago. She felt intimidated. She felt uncomfortable and her confidence went all time low. She went and sat next to a group of girls. Not that she wasn't fluent in English. Her conversation skills and expertise over her subject were her strong assets. But she felt a misfit in this new city among everyone. Everyone was holding big smartphones with screens bigger than their hands. She silently slid her Nokia 1100 in her bag. She forced herself to smile and clearing her throat mustered a "Hello" to the girls sitting next to her.
They looked at her with amused looks.
They started whispering amongst themselves not paying any heed to her.
She went to the washroom and cried. She took out her phone and called at her landline.
"Hello", her father picked up the phone.
She hung. She couldn't tell him that she wanted to quit again.
"He invested so much money in my education. He arranged for an AC compartment so that I travel comfortably. He has so many hope from me. I am here to answer back Mrs. Shrivastava and all ladies who find our education a peril. I have to do it. I have to. My clothes don't make any difference but my skills do. I will do my part. Rest it is upto God."
She drank water and went ahead towards the Group Discussion round.

"Your topic is Globalization has led to Linguistic differences"

The grueling session lasted for next 10minutes. Everyone was amazed seeing her speak so fluently and her thoughts laced with facts and figures. The GD was a cake walk for her. Her confidence increased.
She cleared the GD.
Round after round her confidence increased. She felt better and better. By the last round there were only 10 students left. She made friends with almost all of them. She realized each one of them is facing the same fear if rejection. It did not matter from which background they came. Their skills were speaking and not their old report cards. Everyone was given an opportunity. And everyone was trying to avail it. She felt as their equal.
She made her way to the HR round.

"You hail from such a small town. How do you find in it Delhi?"
"Sir the place we live in has a lot of impact on our mentality. But I guess I am coping up. Delhi just like my town is full of aspiring young people. I hail from a small town but we have faced equal hardships. Life tests at every place."
"Hmm lots of wisdom. Are you ready to relocate?"
"Yes sir."
"Tell me something about you other than what your CV mentions."
"Sir before I came in here I was told how difficult it is to survive in this world. There are so many ills but then my father insisted that I come here and bring a change. This is not just a job opportunity but an opportunity to bring some little change in the mentality of people of my town. Even in my town we study English, get the same technical education. I have read all novels by Dan Brown, Norman Vincent Peale. I follow news regularly. I write articles. Being from a small town has nothing to do with skills one has. And I want to change that."
"Well just because you have stated this I must tell you I hail from a village in Tamil Nadu.You can make it big when you want to. And it is people like you who achieve their dreams. Welcome to the Infosys family."
"Yes sir?"
"I said welcome you are selected."
"Thank you so much sir."

She went outside and gave a call to her father.
"Appa I did it."
"God bless you my child."

Her father wore his shirt and made his way to Mr. Shrivastava's house with a box of sweets.
Change was on its way.

Another Chance

He woke to the sound of his blaring alarm. Yawning he switched off his phone and turned to the other side and slept again. After an hour he felt refreshed enough to resume his daily routine. His body demanding it’s daily caffeine fix. He took his cup and sat down glancing at the daily news. Weekends were always meant to relax. They were a subtle reminder that there exist a world out of his lab and research work. Usually on week ends he would reply to all emails, messages and inboxes. His work kept him really busy nearly detaching him from all social hangups.

He scrolled down his newsfeed not paying any heed to the statuses or photographs and then suddenly his fingers stopped. His friend went to an engagement. A very familiar face lit up his laptop’s screen. He kept staring at the screen and then to the comments below.

“Congratulations for this new phase of life.”

“So happy to see this.”

“Nice pair.”

Three beautiful girls clad in Indian wear were standing next to a man dressed in a business suit. The man and the woman next to  him appeared an extremely good looking and compatible couple by all standards. The only fact that pinched him was that the lady was the love of his life at some point of time. His memories took him back to the last conversation they ever had.

“Are you thinking about our future”, she asked.

“What future?”

“I mean my parents are pestering me now for marriage. I guess it’s time we should break it out to them. We both have achieved a little part of our dreams and are working. There is no reason for us to delay it anymore. But incase you want more time for your career we can still wait for like 2 more years.”

“I do not want to marry you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“See we both have been in a relationship with each other for a very long time. But then I don’t think we are compatible as a couple. We argue so much. And I don’t think you’d make a perfect wife for me. I have so many grudges due to our past bitter experiences. I love you no doubt I do but then I don’t want to marry you. I’ll stay loyal to you but then again I do not want to be bound to you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Why so? What will this love mean then? What am I supposed to do with this love? How can you even think that I’ll be in a relationship with you knowing you’d not marry me. How will I justify it to anyone and more than that myself? I love you a lot. I want to marry you , have a family with you and want to live with you forever.”

“Why don’t you understand I do not want to marry . That is it.”

“What do you want then? You want me to stay with you and one fine day move ahead with someone else in a matrimony? How will I be able to do that? I want to be with you. I know with time you’d change your decision.”

“I won’t keep you in dark I will not change my mind. I do not want to marry you. Stay if you want or else leave. You’ll destroy any house you go into. No man will ever be happy with you. You are so possessive , clingy and a cry baby.”

“Yes I am emotional but then we both have flaws. I do not mention yours does not mean you do not have any.”

“What ever. Stay or leave. I hardly care.”

“Are you sure you are not joking?”

“See how dumb you are. You don’t even get simple things.”

“I am leaving for once. And let me tell you perhaps right now this freedom seems alluring but one fine day you would want to hold my hand and be with me and by then I would have gone. You are saying that I will destroy any man but yet when I will be married you would be pained the most. Why is it that your love is scared of commitment? I love you a lot and I have never left any stone unturned for your happiness. Take your time but then don’t end things like this.”

He blocked her.

From everywhere.

He thought how clingy a girl she was.

“Why was marriage so important? Why does every relationship has to end in matrimony. I love her. Wasn’t that enough for her? Why do we have to tie our relationships in threads of marriage. I loved her and would have stayed with her out of my will but then I do not want to be forced into something I do not want to do. Whatever I can concentrate on my career now. Anyways our relationship had reached its deadlock.”

He never heard anything from her again. All he got to know was that she did her MBA from a good college and turned into a writer.

Somehow today he felt restless. All these years he did not give a second thought to why things ended. Occasionally her memories haunted him but he shunned them away. Seeing her today next to another man enraged him. He was furious. He read all the comments and finally clicked to the link of the man she was engaged to.

Viraj Misra

He was a young entrepreneur who had won several awards for his skills. He appeared quite rich and was decently good looking. Above all he was insanely in love with his love. They had so many photographs together. He felt jealous. His own emotions surprised him. Unconsciously he started comparing himself to this other guy.

“He is like shorter than me and just a rich business man. I am a researcher, so well known in my field. He doesn’t suit her the way I did. He appears to be snobbish.”

Suddenly it struck him why was he even trying to compare. He himself told her that he did not want to marry her. Pushed her out of his life. She has every right to seek a new companion. But then the reasoning of his mind couldn’t pacify his heart. His heart refused to accept that she can ever forget him.

This photograph was a slap to his ego, the same ego that did not let him talk to her ever again.He started questioning if he took the right decision back then. He wanted to talk to her, tell her that yes he missed her in every moment of life yet he did not call her because he did not want to appear weak. He wanted to prove to her that he was independent and he could live without her. He did prove it all but to whom?  He wanted to love her again and wanted to be loved again.

He felt devastated. The uneasiness he felt everytime he saw the photographs revealed his true feelings for her. He longed like a small baby for his mother. She was his, only his. He never knew seeing her next to someone else will evoke feelings that had the power to turn his world. How happy he was thinking that he could live without her. But then all it took was a photograph to prove how wrong he was. Pangs of guilt and remorse engulfed him.

“See she is not happy in the picture. She never smiles like this. I know her fake smiles better than anyone. Huh. Now she doesn’t even appear possessive. This man is standing so close to all the ladies. Huh cheapster. He is not good for her.”

He kept comforting himself.

Through out the day he kept seeing the picture and kept reminiscing about the beautiful time they had spent. He repented each word he had said. His plush apartment seemed so silent. How he loved silence but today he wanted her to come and break the silence.

“I should talk to her. I’ll ask her if she loves me. Obviously she doesn’t or else why would she marry him. But then I should try once. But she’d mock me. But isn’t it better to talk to her.”

His thoughts were in a turmoil. He was in this strange dilemma whether to call her or not. In the end his heart silenced his brain and he picked up his mobile. He still knew her number. Praying and hoping she wouldn’t have changed it he called.

The ring went. Once, twice thrice.

“Hello.”

His heart melted hearing her voice. He wanted to get into his phone and hold her and cry. He composed himself.

“Errr hello.”

There was silence on the both the ends.

“Is this you?”

“Congrats you got engaged. Saw on Facebook. Thought I’d give you a call.”

“What? Me? Engaged ? To whom? “

“Ummm Viraj. It’s okay if you don’t want to break the news to me.”

“ Viraj is my best friend and colleague past 3 years. It was his engagement not mine. He is engaged to the girl wearing the purple attire. I was attending that event.”

All of a sudden he felt relieved. “She is still mine”, he thought. It occurred to him that he never cross checked that guy’s profile that who he was engaged to. Neither did he check her profile. He felt like a fool. He sheepishly continued.

“Oh I am sorry. I thought it was your engagement.”

“How does it make a difference to you. One fine day even I’ll be married. I do not understand after so many years you made a call for this?”

“Well I mean I guess I mean how are you?”

“I am perfectly fine. Doing great. What about you?”

“I am good. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why should I answer that? It is my personal life.”

“That means you are.”

“No it means I am not telling you.”

“Tell me.”

“Fine I am not.”

“Do you still love me?”

“What sort of crap is this. After 3 years you are coming to me out of the blue and asking do I love you? Hell no!! I don’t. Why should I? You left me. You said I can’t be a wife. Please end the call now.”

“I love you and I have loved you always. It is just that I was immature and my stupid ego did not allow me to call you again. I really want to be with you. Please can we give it another chance. I would make sure I don’t spoil it. I swear.”

He spoke in a flow.

“Umm.. No. Not like this. I cannot give you the authority to hurt me when you please.”

“I love you. Please we can sort it out.”

“I have one condition.”

“Yes yes tell me.”

“Woo me back. If you meet my standards I’ll say yes.”

He could sense her smiling.

For once he knew what to do. For once his ego lost to his love.

“I’ll make you marry me.”

“We’ll see.”

My Aiyya and the Exemplary Journey of her Life

This story is based on the life of "Mrs. Jagwanta Pandey" who was the great great grandmother of my chachi, Dr. Anita Upadhyaya and whom she lovingly called "Aiyya". It is a narration based on the events as told by my chachi.
In the year of 1902, in the village of Manth, near Ghugli station, Dewaria, Uttar Pradesh, when India was struggling for freedom, under the glimmering shimmer of the stars, the villagers heard  a cry.
"Congratulations. Goddess Laxmi has bestowed her choicest blessings on your family. Such a beautiful daughter", chimed every one who saw her.
Being the daughter of the most respectable Zamindars of the village, she lived life like a princess surrounded by maids and servants who adored her. Big innocent eyes, dusky complexion and a smile that could melt even the strongest hearts. She personified beauty. Blessed with an extraordinary melodious voice, her mere words sounded like songs of a nightingale.
At a tender age of fourteen, she got married. Her marriage like the village fair lured her since she was a little girl. She felt happy, extremely shy, excited all at the same time. Trying new jewelleries, bangles, clothes, she beamed with joy. Her father gave everything that could have been possible from drums filled with gold, elephants, the best sweets but to his surprise her father-in-law refused to accept anything.
As a part of  their custom, she went to her in law's place for a few hours and returned back. She was too young to fulfil the duties of a wife. There were another five years before she could join her new family again.
She enjoyed her stay at her home cooking, sewing, playing with dolls and talking with everyone in the village. One day she requested her mother to allow her to study. Soon her father arranged  for the best teachers and her daily lessons started.
But destiny had other plans. There came a telegram. Her husband died of smallpox, an epidemic that was spreading like wildfire in the country.
Soon all her green, pink, red, blue sarees were replaced  by white cotton sarees. Her bangles lay shattered on the floor. Her forehead that so proudly was marked with red was bare now. Her long, lustrous hair cropped short. She could not understand why everyone was cursing her fate and crying. Her mother in a few days also got caught by the epidemic.
She felt alone. Everyone who once loved and adored her had started detesting her. She was prohibited from attending any auspicious ceremony, badly scolded if she laughed, cursed for bringing bad luck and continuous remarks of being evil always hit her hard, She was confined to a small room in her palatial house.
In a few months, she withered away like a flower that did not receive sunshine.
She went to her father and hesitantly asked him if she could go to her in- laws place. Surprised by her unusual request, he tried his best to make her understand that her home was the safest place in this word for her and her in-laws maybe wouldn't want her there. But her constant requests made him change his decision.
Clad in a white saree, she entered her in-laws home. Her mother- in- law hugged her hard and smiled telling the house members that her daughter had arrived. Everyone in the house welcomed her with so much warmth which was contrary to what her father had told her.
The very next day, her new mother got her a blue saree but she refused to wear it. She started liking the purity of the color white.
She was simple, she never made unjust demands, devoid of tantrums. Her father came many times trying to cajole her into coming back home but being caged like a bird in a big home was something she did not want to experience again. She loved her new family so much, she did not want to go. Neither did she want to marry again. Strange but her decisions were firm.
She played with the children, cooked food often competing with the "elder bahu", she made stuffed toys with so much precision that left people wondering if they were factory made. Occasionally she loved fighting with the elder bahu but being the apple of the eye of the entire family  she usually won.
One fine day the family was invited to a big feast in the village. Her mother in law took her early for helping the people with their preparation. Suddenly someone pointed at her calling her a widow and asking her to leave the place at once. Her father in law who was also the Sarpanch and an unusually calm person lost his cool strictly telling everyone that if they treated their daughter as an outcaste , his family would never participate in any celebration. For the first time in the history of the village a widow had attended a celebration. She had tears in her eyes. She was subjected to so much isolation that she never expected people to accept her. Not even her own father voiced his displeasure against the ill practices and here there was a fatherly figure with whom she had never had a word and he was fighting for her rights. Her devotion towards her in-laws increased multiple folds that night.
Years passed. She grew old but she still played with children. Her heart never grew old. She'd play with kids with the same energy and vigour at times fighting while declaring the winner. She was often seen making "Choolha", a fireplace to cook, by the river to please little girls who had a yearning desire to learn cooking. She'd paint the "Takhtis",writing slates, of children, helping them with their homework and even sometimes writing their homework. It was then the kids started calling her "Aiyya".
Aiyya was everyone's best friend and everyone's confidant. Kids discussed their homework and heard stories. women often poured in for advices. All vows and all happiness were shared with Aiyya. Any big or small problem had to be rushed to her in order to be solved. No decisions were made without asking her. Every new born in the village wore clothes specially made by her as an omen.
With time Aiyya changed her life from a curse to a blessing.
Aiyya spent her life among people she had no relation with but who meant her world.
"Acceptance when comes from both the sides creates bonds that are stronger than blood relationships."
Her life was a perfect example of it. She was the most heart warming, giving and loving individual, devoid of any cunningness or shrewdness.
To accept others you need a clean pure heart and that was her most precious asset. Her in laws got a daughter in her and she got family, respect, love and freedom in their home.
Nobody knows what prompted Aiyya to come to her in laws, neither the reason behind her undeterred devotion towards her in laws was known.
Even in her last days , she was often seeing playing with the grandchildren of the village.
Amazingly her smile never left her face in those 85 years she lived.
Even today if you happen to got to the village of Chakdehi and ask about Aiyya, someone would be as eager as me to tell you her story
She was our Aiyya, our great great great grandmother.

The House Of JOY!!

She looked at the bare wall of the room where once a big collage of her family photographs hung. She went ahead and felt the holes in the wall which she had so enthusiastically made years ago so that she could have brightened the room with her masterpiece of creativity. She smiled reminiscing how she felt like Thor holding that heavy hammer.
She felt an inexplainable urge to cry. Biting her lower lip she turned away and walked out of her room.Yes it was her room.
"Loneliness is something you can never ever get used to. It is that chronic disease that spreads its' roots in your body only to be discovered when chances of survival go grim."
Her father believed that life was a gift that unravels only to give you surprises.
" Had he been here in my place would he have felt the same", she wondered.
The last she saw her mother and him was at the dining area where she saw them holding hands and making elaborate plans about their late evening stroll by the sea. She felt happy coming to Tamil Nadu for her holidays. Her brother was smartening himself up in order to flirt around with the girls on the beach.
She smiled. She wanted to punch him hard once again and run down the staircase only to hide in the store room and yell out to him to catch her. She knew now there will be no one chasing her.
Nobody returned who left for the beach that evening. All she remembered was reading a book in the hotel room and then water and finally waking up in the hospital where she continuously faded in and out of consciousness for around a week. Everything that happened next was a blurred memory.
Barely a month had passed when she received a notice from the Government that it was providing compensation to the families of people who died during the Tsunami.
She did not want a compensation. Perhaps nobody can actually compensate for the loss each survivor was suffering from. If only God could release all souls and get them back to life. If only.
She wondered if they can compensate for the mother's milk a new born is craving for, or for the tears of a newly wed girl who now is a widow or for the ailing parents who lost their kids.
The money can only fill their bank accounts and that too partially but the void inside them, would money be able to fill that as well?
She dragged herself to the kitchen and nostalgia swept over her with full force. All the delicacies that she cooked or burnt, the taste of the food that her mother made with so much love and the memories of her family enjoying dinner came in front of her eyes. She could even smell the wafting aroma of her favorite muffins in the kitchen. Within moments there were just three walls, empty cabinets and even a more empty heart.
Every nook and corner of this house had been used to their frivolous laughter and endless joys. This house had seen her grow from a diaper clad baby to a young individual. It saw her failing, falling and yet standing up again to reach heights. It saw her family's journey from poverty to extreme riches. Every beautiful memory in her heart was attached to some place in her house. It had witnessed the most spectaular moments of her life. The silence today was eating her up. The bricks were pleading her not to leave. Sadness was weighing her down. How badly she wanted to hear her mother shout at her for not eating her food on time, she missed how her father would give her secret high fives when they teamed up for some mischieve and above all she wanted to tell her brother how much of a necessary nuisance he was to her life.
"This house has always been radiating with joy and it will continue to do so", she was firm and determined.
"It will now be a home."
She lay flat on the ground of her terrace where her family enjoyed late night strolls after dinner. The starless sky was dark yet her heart felt  darker. Her heart full of despair. People often told her that it was a miracle that she survived, a blessing of God. If only they knew what a curse it was to live life without those who taught her what life is.
She felt like that little duckling who had been separated from her family. Hardly had she learnt how to swim and an ocean was left to cross.
A tear slipped from her eye, and another and another. She cried for the loss of her family, for the loss of so many innocent lives, the loneliness and for the loss of a reason to live.
The sun was about to rise. She sat down and wiped her tears away. It was a new morning. The pain was no less yet the law of nature was reducing the grief. Her mind continued to be in the state of endless thoughts.
Suddenly she was struck by hope. A hope that maybe her family made it out of the disaster. Maybe they are struggling for life somewhere. How would she ever know sitting there and crying. She decided to get moving and search for them and help others to search for their families.
She decided she'll keep searching till she finds them or the purpose of her life.

Hours later she handed over the keys of the house to the owner of an orphanage.
She smiled as she said, "Please let the house be full of joy. It is not used to sadness."

Match Made In Heaven

She nervously looked at the clock. Looking in the mirror she adjusted her hair and cautiously analyzed her own reflection. Her dusky appearance looked a little fair due to the layers of foundation that had been plastered upon her face, her eyes felt heavy from the weight of mascara and eyeliner, her cheeks appeared crimson, all thanks to the generously applied blush and lips shimmered with the artificial sparkle of the lipstick. She felt disgusted and moreover dejected because she knew the reflection looked far more hideous than she could have ever looked in life. Is this that necessary? To be caked up like a clown and be presented in front of people who’ll scrutinize the way she walks, talks, she smiles and carries herself. She’ll be a mere commodity that will be appreciated or detested on the basis of how she looks and nobody will even give a fleeting glance to her qualifications let alone her nature.

“Maa why do I have to look so different from who I am? Will this makeup permanently alter the kind of appearance I have?  And even if they approve of me today then how will I ever be able to live with this fear of being exposed  and my real self being revealed?”

“We are not lying. This is a general makeup that every girl does to enhance her appearance. Don’t make such a big deal about it. Had you given a little importance to your appearance before then we wouldn’t have had to run behind boys in order to get you married.”

“I was giving importance to my studies maa. I thought it was more important to be well read and behaved than to be beautiful.”

She found herself talking to the walls as her mother had already left. Many boys had come and rejected her. Many others came and promised marriage but never returned back. Some asked her to deny. All her medals and glories stood mocking in her room every time a boy seemed more interested in her looks than what she actually was. She felt so helpless when she couldn’t justify to her own self that what was it in her that was not present.

She was dusky, slender and with decent features. She was not strikingly beautiful yet she wasn’t plain. There was a different persona to her. So different that men failed to understand it. Tears welled up in her eyes. She went to the washroom and washed her face vigorously.

“I will not meet this guy being who I am not”, she told herself firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Meet our daughter,” her mother chimed.

Her mother’s face fell as she saw her daughter wearing a saree with almost no makeup and her hair braided in a plait.

Another round of snacks followed with questions pertaining to her. For a moment she felt awkward thinking if it was a mistake to remove her makeup but then the gesture of the guest was heart warming.

“I guess you should show him your room now.”

She died a little inside. She dreaded this part of the entire meeting. She felt uneasy. Maybe now the boy will make some unjust demand or maybe he will tell her that he likes someone else. Her past experiences have made her very skeptical.

“This is my room.”

“It is nice.”

He went to her bookshelves and started reading the titles aloud.

“You like reading?”

“Yes I do. But I must say your collection is just way beyond awesome. If we happen to marry would you bring it along?”

She was taken aback. For the first time in so many years someone had just so straight forwardly said those words to her.

“Yes I might only if you don’t reject me.”

“Excuse me?”

“It might sound a little rude to you but before you many boys have come and said similar things obviously not the marriage part but yes quite nice things and then in a few days they disappeared only coming back to life when they had already married some other girl. Just before meeting you I was also caked with makeup but then I did not want to be someone else or rather I did not want to be what I could never be and that is beautiful.”

“Ahhhhh,” he sighed.

“Huh?”

“I am relieved. All this while I thought you’ll reject me.”

She smiled.

“Why would I reject you? Who gives me that power?”

“Matter of fact I have been rejected by many girls too. Some found me fat, some said I was short, some complained about my salary and some had lovers and trust me there were many for whom I had to sacrifice my desire to be married only to pave their way so that they can unite with their lovers. You have no idea how bruised my ego was. Even today when I saw you and then heard you I was astounded. Your qualifications, your merits everything was perfect. I was planning myself for another rejection.”

She looked at him bewildered by what he just uttered.

“Do you mean it makes no difference that I am dark?”

“Well come on you are educated and by the way it’s called dusky and not dark. And I like dusky girls. Haven’t you seen Bipasha?”

“But still that means you will say a yes? I mean you can get a better girl.”

“I haven’t got any one yet and I am equally unsure about my own looks. I mean look at me , my flabby stomach , it vibrates when you touch it.”

Within moments they were laughing.

She felt so much at ease. For once she felt accepted and appreciated. Her medals were talked about. Her interests were talked about. He was an extremely pleasant person. He went to her dressing table and picked up the lipstick.

“Will you put this ever?”

“No I find it hideous.”

“So do I.”

“Your lips are naturally pink.”

She blushed. For the first time in life her cheeks felt heated and she felt shy.

“I guess we should go down now, “ she spoke lightly.

“Not that I want to but then yeah if only I go down , then only I can tell my parents that finally their search is over. One more thing you are a very beautiful woman. More than that I was smitten by your confidence and the way you respectfully treated everyone downstairs. You were modest and calm. Over the years I had met many girls who’ll scream and yell about their minor achievements as if they were laurels and then tell me all sorts of things that I was least interested in knowing. Meeting you made me realize that we all do have pairs made in heaven. Please say yes. I really like you and want to make a happy family with you.”

“What makes you think I will say a no?”

“But then I have one condition.”

Her heart sank. The word “but” had never brought any good news.

“What is it?”

“Nothing much I want dowry.”

She stared at him. The man who was so nice and genuine had the same demands.

“I am sorry. I do not approve of dowry.”

He stuck his tongue out and pointed to her bookshelf.

“I want that. Please.”

“What?”

“Your bookshelf.”

“You scared me.”

“Now you are scaring me. Will you not bring it along?”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll come and stay in your home.”