SPF: A Rough Draft

DSCF8715
Photo (c) Susan Spaulding

A Rough Draft

Words 200

“Well? Is it done?”

“Sort of. Whether it is well or otherwise is not for me to judge.”

“Very funny. So aren’t you going to show off?”

“Umm. Not sure whether it’s worth bragging about.”

“Come on! Are you digging for compliments?”

“From you?! Who hasn’t even looked at it once?”

“That’s a dig!”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“How does it feel to have finished the story you were working on for over two years?”

“Mostly drained.”

“That’s it?”

“So much more remains to be done!”

“You have a complete story! Go find a publisher and just rake in the moolah.”

“If only it were that easy!”

“Isn’t it?

“Before I can even think of contacting a publisher, I have to edit my novel.”

“Isn’t that the editor’s job?”

“Nope! He just draws red lines through manuscripts before throwing it in the trash.”

“Ouch!”

“Exactly. Ideally one should spend at least thrice the amount of time editing as writing.”

“Wow! You don’t like editing?”

“I do but despite the difficult subject, writing was so much fun.”

“How’s that possible?”

“It was possible thanks to all the people who kept me company through the tortuous paths and cheered me from the sidelines.”

***

A/N Sorry about that I simply couldn’t resist bragging in a (not so) roundabout way 😉 I finished Moonshine the story for which I began blogging (240 chapters!) and the reason I’ve been away – just in case any of you noticed 😛 A genuine and heartfelt thank you to all you alpha readers – silent and otherwise 🙏

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Susan Spaulding for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Come Walk in My Shoes

A long short story exploring the differing viewpoints and journeys of  The Silent Generation (born between 1925 – 1945) and Gen Y (born between 1980 – 1995).

“Hello Kanika.”

“Namaste Lataji. So good of you to call.”

“It has been quite some time since we last spoke isn’t it?”

“Yes, I think almost two weeks now. Something or the other is always going on. Sometimes I really don’t think life is worth it.” Kanika’s voice broke.

“What’s the matter?” Lata was concerned. “You sound low? Is your health troubling you?”

“Old age is a curse Lataji.”

“What is it Kanika? Did someone say something? Your daughter-in-law…”

“Malati’s antics I am used to and I don’t expect much from her either. After all she is not of my blood. But when your own…” she broke down.

“Kanika! What happened? I am so sorry my friend. Don’t cry my dear. Keep faith. The Almighty will make everything right.”

“To tell the truth Lataji, I have lost faith in the Almighty. I don’t know why He is punishing me. What have I ever done to deserve this? Why doesn’t He call me? Like He did my husband?” Kanika’s sobs grew louder.

“Control yourself Kanika. Tell me what happened? Don’t keep it bottled up. Talking will help. And perhaps it’s not as bad as you are thinking?”

“What can I say Lataji? When your own family stabs you in the back nothing can take away the pain.”

“You are scaring me Kanika. Did someone hit you? Not…not your son?”

“I wish they had killed me. At least I would have been spared this grief.”

“What grief Kanika?”

“I feel ashamed to say it Lataji. No I cannot say it….”

“Is…is it about money?” Lata asked in hushed tones.

“Yes! Money is missing again from my account. They think I am old, I won’t notice but I am nobody’s fool. I ran the house, handled accounts everything for more than 50 years. I know when money is missing from my bank account. Not just one or two rupees but Rs 5000. ”

“Rs 5000! From your bank account?” Lata was shocked but she tried to soothe matters, “I am sure there must be some explanation, just enquire at the bank. Nobody can just walk into a bank and take out money from your account without your permission.”

“That’s the trouble Lataji. My son handles all bank work. And now I have an ATM card…”

“Oh! ATM? Sunil has the password I suppose?”

“Yes, he does. But it’s not him. I trust him. He has been handling my accounts for so many years now. Even when his Father was alive. Not one paisa unaccounted for.”

“So whom do you suspect?”

“Rishi.” Kanika choked.

“Your grandson?!” Lata was shocked. “Surely not? He is such a good boy.”

“Money can turn the head of anyone Lataji. And this is the new generation – no patience, no scruples, just instant gratification by hook or by crook.”

Lata sighed. “That’s true Kanika. I really wonder where these youngsters are going. They are so materialistic and self-centered. They cannot see anything beyond their own desires and needs.”

“You know I adore Rishi – If only he had asked me. He knows I would never refuse him anything. To steal…” she trailed off and took a shuddering breath. She heaved a big sigh. “I don’t know how to handle this delicate matter. Should I ignore it or should I talk to Sunil? Or confront Rishi?”

“Yes,” said Lata, “it is a very tricky issue. You can’t ignore it. Sunil needs to be told so that he can take corrective action before things go out of hand. Rishi is still young. Perhaps he has a valid reason…”

“What valid reason could he have to steal? He has a good job, and these days they pay so well that the money goes to their head. Ultimately nothing is enough. They just want more – a new phone, a new laptop, branded shoes, bike…”

“I think you should talk it over with Sunil. Your son is a good steady man, he will sort it out with Rishi…”

“I am sure Sunil will not mind but Malati will throw a fit if I dare to point a finger to her beloved son. She will make it impossible for me to stay in this house…”

“But you can’t ignore the matter can you? Was the money withdrawn via the ATM or by check?”

“I am not sure. I think by check.”

“Why don’t you enquire at the bank?”

“Yes but then I might be opening Pandora’s box…”

“Find out from the bank. Then we can take a decision what to do. Let’s meet at the temple on Tuesday.”

“That will be nice.” Kanika cheered up. “It was good talking to you Lataji.”

“Same here Kanika. Now, promise me you will go to the bank?”

“You’re right, I should get to the bottom of the matter. I will go to the bank right away.”

“Good girl!”

Girl! That never failed to make Kanika laugh. Lata joined her.

Revived after the chat with her long time friend and neighbor, Kanika dressed swiftly and collected her bank papers. But instead of the bank, she landed up in the hospital – with a broken leg. In her rush to leave, she was unmindful of her step and the floor was wet.

“Hello Dadi.” Rishi dumped his bag on the chair at the hospital. “How are you?”

Hello. Humph. How would I be with a broken leg lying in a hospital bed at the mercy of all you people? Waiting for somebody to come and spare a few moments for the old witch who doesn’t have the good sense to die?”

“Oh please Dadi give me a break will you? I don’t have time for all this…”

“What do you have time for? Partying? Gaming? Drugs? That you have time for don’t you? But time to sit by the side of your grandmother who is on her way out…”

“Just a sec Dadi,” Rishi turned away as his phone beeped, “Hello? Hi…”

Kanika fumed at the interruption. “Hello. Hi. What is this world coming to? No respect for tradition and culture. Busy with their superficial lives, drowning in materialism no time for the finer things in life.” She raised her eyes heavenwards. “Hey Gopal, why do you insist upon torturing me like this? Why this bias? Why this pain? At least tell me my faults so that I can repent for them? Call me to you. Please. I have had enough of this selfish lonely world. Call me to you my lord Gopal.” A tear slipped down her corner of her eye. With a weary sigh she put a hand over her eyes.

Rishi wandered back inside. He was still on the phone. “No. The client told me… okay, but he specifically told me to…but that’s not my fault!” There was a long pause and Kanika peeped out from under her hand. Rishi’s face was black with rage. She sat up and held her breath. He was going to throw one of his infamous tantrums.

“Rishi…” Kanika held out a hand as if to physically stop him from blowing his top.

“Yes Nitin. Sorry Nitin. Yes I will take care of it.” He said in an even tone.

Rishi disconnected the phone and paced the hospital room, clenching and unclenching his fists, muttering under his breath. He kicked a chair in his path and overturned it. Straightening it he went and stood in front of the AC.

“You’ll catch a chill Rishi.” Kanika cautioned but he ignored her.

Kanika wondered what had happened and who was that on the phone. His boss? But wouldn’t he have called him Sir? Or didn’t they do that any more? But she was impressed with the restraint Rishi had shown while dealing with Nitin. The way he behaved at home, she didn’t think he had it in him to meekly accept his culpability especially when it appeared it wasn’t his fault.

Rishi fumbled with his phone for a while and then dialed. “Hello Mr Verma. Rishi here. I am really sorry about…” he walked out of the hospital room.

“Did he come here to talk on the phone or what?” grumbled Kanika. She couldn’t help feeling concerned – Rishi apologizing! She sat staring at the door until he returned, still on the phone.

“Yes one cheese n chicken pizza and one coke. Dadi do you want anything?”

“Four o’clock! Is this anytime to eat?” Kanika countered.

“Dadi do you want anything?” He insisted.

“No.” She pressed her lips but the urge was too strong and she had been lecturing for too long. “This new generation has gone to the dogs. The way they throw money around is downright criminal. No wonder they have to resort to illegal means to supplement their income.” She said pointedly but it didn’t seem to register with Rishi. “That is why is country is steeped in corruption. Materialism. No strength of character to tolerate the slightest bit of inconvenience.”

“Dadi please!” Rishi continued to tap on his laptop.

“Humph.” She turned her head and resolutely looked away.

“Dadi would you like to have some pizza?” He offered when the order arrived.

“Sacrilege! Don’t you have any sense but to offer me non-vegetarian food?!” Kanika turned all possible shades of blue and purple.

“Sorry Dadi. Have some Coke. I know you like that.” He poured out some for her and offered it to her. She turned her head away. Rishi kept it on the table by her bed.Rishi put his phone on charging and settled down to eat.

“Eat slowly son!” Kanika couldn’t help cautioning. “Nobody is going to take it away from you.”

“The phone rang. “Yes Ma?” he put in on speaker.

“Where are you?”

“With Dadi. On speaker phone.” He warned casting a glance at his grandmother.

“Why didn’t you inform me that you had reached? I have been so worried.”

“I was busy.”

“You are always busy. Are you eating?”

“Yes.”

“What are you eating?”

“Pizza.”

“Why pizza? What happened to the lunch I packed you?”

“It’s lying in office. I have been out in the field since morning.”

“You haven’t eaten anything since 7 am?”

“Where’s the time or the scope? When are you coming Mom?”

“I don’t know. Let me see, perhaps around 7 pm? That way I can get dinner for your Dadi as well and save on a trip.”

“I don’t want to have dinner at 7 pm! Is that any time for dinner?” Kanika interrupted.

“Dadi you can have it later…”

“It will get cold.” Kanika pursed her lips.

Rishi sighed. “But Ma, I have to leave by 7 pm. Can you tell Father to come straight to the hospital from work? Then you can come with the dinner later?”

“No!” Dadi interrupted, “Sunil has a lot on his plate. After office he has to go to the railway booking counter and cancel my train ticket…”

“I already did that Dadi,” Rishi held up his phone.

“Oh!” Kanika was silenced.

“Please Ma.” Rishi insisted.

“Okay.”

“Thanks Ma.” He disconnected the phone.

“What’s so important at 8 pm that you have to inconvenience everyone?” Kanika asked.

“I have a party.”

“Party! That’s right of course. Your Granny is in the hospital and you have to go partying.”

“Dadi….”

“Enough.” Dadi raised her hand. “That’s all the new generation thinks of – partying, drinking and blowing up money. And getting hooked up with unsuitable girls. Learn something from your father. He worked hard and came straight back home. In fact, he still does. While you,” she shook her head, “have no sense of responsibility or priority. Instead of helping out while your poor granny is ill and hospitalized…” Kanika trailed off.

Rishi had walked out of the room.

Kanika felt awful. Tears rolled down her cheek. How could her dearest little Rishi, her joy, her pride, her raison d’etre do this – steal from his granny? If only you had asked son, if only, she cried silently.

“Namaste Dadiji.” Muniya, their daily help, stood there wringing her hands. “Forgive me Dadiji. It’s entirely my fault Dadiji that you broke your leg. Bhabhi has told me so many times to make sure the floor is dry but…” she sniffed.

“Don’t cry Muniya.” Kanika consoled her. “It was meant to be. It is the will of Gopalji to punish me. I must have done something wrong sometime. You are but a tool in His plans.”

Muniya sniffed and wiped her face on the edge of her sari. “What do you need to be punished for? You have never done an unkind act in your life. You have been so kind to me. If you hadn’t loaned me the money for my son’s treatment…”

“Loaned you money?” Kanika frowned.

“Yes Dadiji. Don’t you remember? Last month Pappu fell ill and I needed money, you gave me a check of Rs 5000 for his tests and medicines?”

“Oh!” A load rolled of Kanika’s heart. She could have danced but for her broken leg. Perhaps even on one leg. She was so happy. Her darling Rishi was blameless! He wasn’t a thief. You did right to punish me Gopal, she sent up a prayer of thanks, and for sending Muniya to set my suspicious senile mind right.

Kanika reached out to sip at the Coke.

“Rishi beta sit down and talk to your Dadi,” she coaxed wishing she could hold him in her arms and mutter apologies. How could she have suspected her beloved grandson?

“Later Dadi. I have a lot of work.” Rishi didn’t even look up.

“What work? Just playing on your phone!” Eager to make amends, Kanika lashed out at being thwarted. “Either listening to music, seeing movies or chatting with your friends. No time for your old granny, who knows how much time I have left on this earth?”

“Oh please Dadi,” Rishi’s eyes were glued to his phone as his fingers moved effortlessly over it. “You have been saying that since my childhood.”

“Nonsense! What do you remember of your childhood?”

“Many things. Some are clear vivid images – like me begging you to switch off the TV and tell me a story. And you batting me away eyes glued to the TV.”

“Are you taking revenge for that?”

Rishi laughed and shrugged. “Perhaps. Who knows?” He got up and switched on the TV. He put the remote by her side. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Any pain? Discomfort?”

She shrugged. “Nothing I can’t bear. Pain and discomfort have been a part of my life as far as I can remember.”

“Oh Dadi!” Exasperated Rishi rolled his eyes. “Why does everything have to be epic tragedy?”

“Humph.” She grunted.

He settled her comfortably. “Okay?”

“As okay as is possible…” she began.

“Oh Dadi, you are impossible!” He laughed.

“You won’t understand now. You’ll understand when you are my age…”

“And Dadi, you don’t know how it is…”

“Yes, yes, I don’t know anything. My hair turned grey by just sitting in the sun. Only you know everything!”

“Uff Dadi please.” Rishi buried himself in his laptop.

Kanika was left alone with her thoughts, until Sunil came.

“Mother!”

“Son! I am so glad you have come.” Kanika cheered up. “This boy of yours is impossible.” She vented. “Just because he wants to party you didn’t get any chance to go home, take some rest before coming. It’s all his mother’s fault for not bringing him up properly.”

“Oh great!” Rishi threw up his hands. “Have fun Father. I am off.” He began stuffing his bag.”

“Wait Rishi. Where are you going? What is this party? Is that more important than your family?”

“It’s part of my job profile Father.”

“Job? Which job demands partying and drinking?” Sunil retorted.

“You want to know about my party?” Rishi snapped. “You think I want to go to this party? That I am going to there to eat, drink, and be merry? You are wrong. I have to first go home. Freshen up and change. Take the train back to the party venue to join my boss and his wife. They want to drink. But they are too stingy to hire a cab or a driver. So I will have to drive them back home after they get drunk. Which means I cannot drink. If I am lucky I will be offered dinner and catch the last train. If not, there’s no saying what transportation will be available at that time or when I will reach home. This is my party. Not drugs drinks and girls like Dadi imagines.”

“Mind your tone Rishi!” Sunil tried to regain the upper hand.

“Let it be Sunil,” Kanika restrained her son, “He is right. I have forgotten how it is to be his age. Worse, I have little or no understanding of the changed dynamics and pressures of the modern world.” She held out her arms. “I am sorry Rishi.”

 ***

Thank you for reading, look forward to your comments and constructive criticisms – was it too long (yes it was!) boring (do tell), confusing, anything I should have done or not done?

 

The Inheritance

“Ann, why didn’t you tell me about the inheritance?” Polly asked.

Ann started. “How do you know?” she asked warily. “Did you read the letter?”

“No I didn’t. You know I don’t much care for reading and writing. Tidger told me. He read the letter by mistake.”

“Oh.”

“Ann, now that you are an heiress, you better keep your wits about you,” Polly cautioned her elder widowed sister.

“What do you mean?” Ann was bewildered.

“Ah Ann, ever the fool. Didn’t you notice the doddering fools Wigget and Miller praising you to the skies?”

Ann pinked. “Oh I thought they were being sweet.”

“You’ve been here for the past 6 months and all of a sudden they became sweet? It’s the inheritance, mark my words.”

“Oh Polly,” Ann wrung her hands, “You are the clever one. Tell me what should I do? I don’t like either of them but nobody else will marry me at this age.”

“Humph!” snorted Polly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if my own Tidger wouldn’t marry you himself.”

“Polly!” Ann gasped scandalized, “Do you know what you are saying?”

“Of course I know.” Polly said. “I know my Tidger. He has a weakness for money. Besides, he’s worried about the mortgage on the…”

“But that doesn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t mean, but it could, is all I am saying. And now that the children have flown the nest, we don’t have much in common.”

“Oh Polly aren’t you happy in your marriage?”

“Now don’t be a romantic fool Ann.” Polly briskly set about cleaning up her tiny makeshift kitchen. “Does anyone get married for happiness’ sake?”

“Then why get married?”

“Women get married to have children and stability. Men get married to get an unpaid servant and nurse for life.” Polly attacked the dishes with vigor.

“Polly!”

“Tell me Ann, were you happy in your marriage?”

“It was alright.” Ann crossed herself. “May his soul rest in peace.”

“Do you miss him?”

Ann was silent. “Not really.” She said at last. “But I do wish we had a house of our own. That I was independent…”

“Well with your inheritance you could easily set up house by yourself.”

“But that would be so lonely. What would I do alone?”

“I…I could join you.”

“That would be lovely Polly! Will Tidger agree?”

“He doesn’t need to.”

“Meaning?”

“I am baking his favorite cake today.” Polly held up a bottle. “With a special flavor.”

“Polly!”

Polly shrugged. “He’s outlived his usefulness. He’s more of a bother and a pain to be with. I thought I would send him to a happier place.”

“What on earth is the matter with you Polly?”

“You are a fine one to talk Ann,” Polly rounded on her, “Making sheep eyes at my husband.”

“How dare you Polly!”

“Oh I dare alright. Do you think I am blind? You always had a soft spot my Tidger didn’t you? And now the money is making him lean towards you.”

“You are crazy Polly.”

“No I am not. He’s always been a sleep talker. And these days all he says are Ann and mutter about ways to bump me off.” She held up the bottle. “I had bought this poison for you. But since the money I thought it better to get rid of him. After all you are my sister.”

“Polly please…”

“Don’t worry Ann, you and I will get along well together. Won’t we?”

Ann paled. She wrung her hands but wilted under Polly’s unblinking glare. She nodded.

“Good.” Polly sounded strange and her eyes glittered dangerously.

“You are looking funny Polly. Your blood pressure seems to have shot up. You need to rest. Let me make dinner…”

“No! I am baking the cake.”

“Okay after you bake the cake,” Ann said soothingly, “you go and rest. Let me take care of the dinner, while I think how best to handle this. And you know I love cooking.”

Polly expertly sifted the floor, broke the eggs, crushed the sugar, emptied the bottle and slid the cake batter into the oven.

“Done!” Polly dusted her hands and slipped off her apron. “I am going. You think all you like, but remember that cake is for my Tidger.” She sniffled. “He was a good man. Until you and your money came along.” With a sob she left the kitchen.

Ann heaved a heavy sigh. But there was dinner to be made. She worked swiftly around the kitchen and didn’t pause until she had set the table to her satisfaction.

“Polly,” she walked up to her room, “It’s all set Polly. And I have decided to accept Miller’s invitation for dinner. That way I will be out of the way and you can claim that Tidger had a heart attack.”

“Good thinking.” Polly approved of the plan. Besides, she couldn’t wait to see Tidger’s face as Ann left for a date right under his nose. Oh how she would rub it in.

He would die of a heart attack, she chortled to herself.

Bump her off would he? She would show him – who would bump off whom.

Ann and Miller were enjoying a quiet dinner when the concierge came and interrupted them. He spoke in a low whisper to Miller.

“Ann, my dear,” Miller laid his hand on hers, “We have to go.”

Ann stared at him and paled. “What’s the matter?”

“Come let’s go.” He was gentle with her as he led her out of the restaurant.

The scene at home was one of utter chaos. The dinner Ann had labored over, lay spattered all over the floor. Alongside it, Polly lay senseless while Tidger was weeping softly in one corner.

“What happened?” It was the doctor.

Tidger wiped his face and attempted to gather himself. “I…I don’t know doctor. We were having dinner. She had finished eating and I was almost done. She got up to get the cake and appeared to get dizzy. She gave a gasp and grabbed the tablecloth before keeling over. She…” he choked, “she hasn’t moved since then.”

“ You ate the same thing?” The Inspector peered at the dishes. “What was in this empty bowl?” He sniffed suspiciously at it.

“Soup. I finished it.”

“What soup?

Tidger shrugged. “Don’t know but it was real tasty.”

“The bowl looks clean, as if it has been been washed.” He pinned Tidger with his eyes, who flushed and blustered, “Look here Inspector…”

“It was clear soup Inspector,” Ann controlled her sobs, “I…I helped her make it.”

“She was fine before that?” The doctor interrupted.

“Yes. She was perfectly fine. She cooked dinner. She even made my favorite cake.” Tidger paused. “She did complain of uneasiness once or twice.”

“Hmm, looks like she had a heart attack.” The doctor stood up. “She did have high blood pressure and diabetes.”

“My poor Polly. What will happen to me now?”

Ann was too busy crying in Miller’s arms to console Tidger.

She didn’t even speak to him at Polly’s funeral. She moved out of his house the same day.

It was only months later, after the doctor had declared Polly’s death to be due to natural causes and police had given Tidger a clean chit that Ann met Tidger at a common friend’s house.

“How are you?” She looked at him critically. “You’ve lost weight.”

He gave a tired smile. “I am not much of a cook. And,” he coughed, “I haven’t been sleeping too well either.”

“Come over for dinner tomorrow. Miller, you come too. Around 7.30 pm?”

They nodded.

Tidger was early.

“How’s the paperwork for the inheritance progressing?” Ann asked as she cut him a piece of his favorite cake.

He bit into it and closed his eyes in bliss. “Almost done.” He mumbled indistinctly through a full mouth. “Shouldn’t take more than a month now.”

“Good. Poor Polly must be turning in her grave to know that she was the one who got the inheritance not me.”

Tidger grinned. “Aren’t I smart?”

“Only in showing me the letter first. You shouldn’t have washed the soup bowl.”

“I thought there could be traces of the poison.”

“They wouldn’t have been able to detect it.” Ann was confident.

“I am sorry.” He deferred to her greater wisdom. “What next?”

The doorbell rang.

Ann rewarded him with a kiss. “Now it’s time for you to woo me. Make it nice and slow.”

She went to let Miller in.

Just enough delay to raise suspicion but not confirm it.

As always, patience was the key to success.

***

A/N This story is inspired by WW Jacobs short story A Golden Venture and linked to Story Club # 10

So what do you think? Plausible? Any loopholes? Doubts? Loose ends? Go on say it, I am sure you found something!

The Test

The air was thick with excitement and stifled giggles. The prospective groom, Ranjit had arrived with his family to see Juhi, the eldest daughter of the house.

“He’s so handsome!” gushed her friends as they peered from the doorway and ran back to report to Juhi who sat demurely inside, waiting to be summoned.

Juhi adjusted her flowing dupatta and flicked back her long plait. “And he is a doctor,” she couldn’t help boasting.

“Doctor, my foot,” sneered Reeta, “he’s just a compounder. All he does is dispense medicines.”

“Rubbish!” Juhi’s sister was up in arms, “He is a doctor. We went to his clinic. There was a huge queue of patients.”

“He may call himself a doctor but I know the truth.” Reeta shot back.

“What truth?”

“That he is only a registered medical practitioner – an RMP, not a doctor.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“That’s what you think.”

“You are just jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous?” Reeta retorted. “I am going to marry a ‘real’ doctor in the city, not some remote village which doesn’t even have electricity.”

“It does have…”

“Juhi!” Her mother came bustling in trembling with excitement and nervousness, “come along. They want to see you. Now behave yourself. Keep your head down. Don’t forget to touch their feet. Speak but only when spoken to and speak softly….”

She led Juhi out, muttering instructions.

“What is your name?” The elderly man with the big mustache asked.

“Juhi.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Can you cook? And sew?”

Juhi inclined her head.

“Have you been to school?”

“Yes, I studied till Class 5.”

“Did you just go to school or can you also read and write?”

Juhi’s eyes flew up to meet Ranjit’s mocking eyes.

“I can.” She said.

“Which? Read or write?” He smirked. “Don’t mind but I am the only doctor in the entire village. I have a certain standard to live up to. My wife cannot be illiterate…”

“I can read and write.” She asserted.

He pushed forward a notepad. “How about a little test?”

She looked at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. “I know only Hindi.” She said.

“Don’t worry. I don’t have such high expectations!” They laughed.

Ranjit began the dictation.

Juhi bent her head and laboriously wrote them down with her tongue sticking out from one corner of her mouth.

After the dictation was over, everyone held their collective breaths as he scanned the notebook.

After an eon, he lifted his head and smiled. “She passed the test.” He looked at his father. “We may put her on the shortlist…”

“Wait a minute,” Juhi spoke up, ignoring the gasps, “I want you to also take the test.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” She looked at him in the eye. “Please take down my dictation.”

He went red. He looked at his father for guidance and support in dealing with the unheard of insult.

Her mother nudged her. “Juhi! Apologize this very instant.”

But the groom’s father laughed and slapped him on the back. “Go ahead son and show her who you are – a respected and highly educated doctor.

Ranjit gave in and accepted the challenge. But not before his eyes had burned into hers, promising retribution.

“Please check it, Madamji.” He said mockingly as he handed the diary back to her after the dictation was done. “Happy?” He turned to his father and declared, “I like her spirit. Can we finalize her?”

“You may.” Juhi spoke up. Her eyes were glittering. “But I refuse to marry you.”

There was pin drop silence.

She held up the diary. “He failed the test.”

***

Written for the Daily Post’s one word prompt – Better

A/N This story was inspired by a incident reported in the news last week. Hats off to her.

Bestsellers Galore

Sameer washed down on the last bit of the burger with a healthy swig of beer. He was sick of airport food, which was all that he got these days. On the flight from Chennai to Delhi, he had had a wonderful dream of dal and rice, just the way she used to make.

How can the cook mess up something as simple as rice and dal? I could do it better, if only I had the time.

Liar! You hate going into the kitchen because it reminds you of her.

Everything reminds me of her dammit.

Then why did you let her go?

She didn’t want to stay.

Did you ask her to stay?

Why would she listen to me?

When has she not?

She left didn’t she?

You left her no choice. You forced her to choose between self-respect and her love.

So fine! She chose herself.

What did you expect? That she would prefer to choose a moody obnoxious…

Whose side are you on?

Hers obviously. I am sick of you and your blasted ego. Just because you don’t like to say sorry, admit your mistakes, you let her go.

Oh stop whining. Move on. It’s been two years…

Oh so you’ve been keeping track?

What’s there to keep track?

You lie even to yourself. Hey isn’t that her?

Where? Shut the hell up and stop messing with my mind.

I am not messing with you! And even if I am, what can you do? Push me away like you did her? Just because she told you a few home truths?

What rot! I didn’t push her away.

That’s what you think. And deny as much as you like and the way I see it, she still has a firm clasp over your heart.

Nonsense.

And every now and then she gives it a squeeze.

His heart stopped. There she was – at the bookshop.

Go to her! Don’t let her go away again.

Stop being so Bollywood. What do I have to say to her?

Tons.

But I can’t say it. I wrote it all down. I even published it.

You should have sent her a copy.

What if she laughed at my face?

She has the right. Besides the book is funny.

Very funny.

If you hadn’t used a penname, she would have known by now. She couldn’t have missed it.

I couldn’t make fool of myself.

So you used a female penname?

Oh shut up.

For once be honest with yourself. Do you or do you not believe what you wrote? If you do, do not let her go. Fate has handed this chance do not let it slip.

I couldn’t.

Why can’t you? Just say hello?

What if she refuses to talk to me?

Just the kind of tonic your oversized ego needs.

What?

I told you I am on her side.

Help me dammit.

Go to her and apologize to her.

What if she insults me?

What if she doesn’t?

What if she does?

That’s the risk you have to take. That’s what you have to decide. Whether you love her or yourself.

She had finished purchasing her book and was moving away towards the boarding gates.

 He couldn’t let her go. Not again.

“He…hello?”

“How are you?” No surprise. No flicker of recognition or emotion.

“Fine.” Limbs and heart leaden, he turned away.

“Do you mind autographing this book?”

 She held out his book.

“Y…You know?” He held his breath.

“Yes. I read the book.”

“How did you like it?” He couldn’t quite hide his smug expression. His book was good. The reviews and sales proved it.

She looked at the book in her hand. “The book is good. I especially liked the twist in the end.” She met his eyes.

His heart thudded. “When he walked away?”

She nodded.

He shrugged. “It is what the protagonist deserved. To be punished. To be alone, forever.” He cleared his throat. “If you have already read it why did you buy it?”

“I wondered if it was all mere talk. I wanted to find out for myself.”

“And?” His breath eased and his heart steadied. He felt on top of the world. He could picture her in his their home. Nothing would have changed. It would be as if these two years had never happened. He at his table tapping away, a delicious fragrance wafting around him while she pottered about…

“I better go that’s my flight.”

“But…”

“I’ll mail you my thoughts.” She paused. “Or maybe I won’t. You can buy the book and read it. Stay well.” She walked away.

***

Depending on whom you’ve been rooting for I hope I managed to jolt you or extract a chuckle or two 😉

Thanks for reading! I would appreciate if you let me know your thoughts 😉 Or would you prefer me to wait for the bestseller? 😀

Die Another Day

On account of bad weather, the seat belt sign has been switched on. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.”

Sia looked up from her Ipad as the air hostess aboard the Mumbai-Delhi flight made the announcement.

Deeply entrenched in the twists and turns of Chake De! India, she hadn’t quite noticed the turbulence.

Sia’s co-passenger on the window seat shifted uncomfortably “Just look at that!”

Accepting the invitation, Sia leaned forward.

She gasped – a thick swirl of grey-brown lay directly below them and seemed to be growing bigger.

“There is a dust storm over Delhi and we are diverting to Jaipur. Sit back and relax.” The Captain’s reassuring boom echoed from the cockpit.

Oh good! She would be able to finish her movie. Sia smiled to herself as she turned her attention back to her downloaded movie.

“How can you watch a movie at this time?” The guy next to Sia glared accusingly at her. “We are all going to die and you are sitting here watching a movie?”

Sia sighed and took off her earphones. “We aren’t going to die. We are…”

“Yes we are! Can’t you see the thick billowing clouds? Can you not smell the dust?”

“Relax! Didn’t you hear the Captain? We are diverting to Jaipur. It’s all clear there.”

“But what if we die en route? What if…?”

“Yikes!” Sia jerked up straight in her seat. “I never thought of that! I better get back to my movie, it has been on my bucket list for ages…”

“It’s not funny!”

“No it isn’t.” Sia straightened her expression as it slipped. Her eyes strayed to her Ipad.

She sighed and held out her hand. “Hello I am Sia.”

“Whatever.”

“What’s your problem?” Sia asked.

“My problem is that you don’t have any problem!” His voice rose in affronted indignation. “We are going to die and all you are concerned about is your stupid movie.”

“So what would you have me do? Die before it is time to die?”

Frustrated, he glared at her. “At least…”

“I could panic a bit?” Sia twinkled at him. “Have a fit or two?” She twitched and rolled about her seat.

He rolled his eyes.

The aircraft dived and steadied. His knuckles turned white.

“Is this your first trip to India?”

“Last trip.” He mumbled, his eyes determined closed.

Sia laughed.

He opened his eyes. “How can you laugh?”

“How can you begrudge me my last laugh before I die?” Sia shot back.

He rolled his head as they hit another bad patch.

“At least tell me your name.” Sia coaxed.

“What good would that do? We are all going to die…”

“Talk about yourself.” Sia settled herself comfortably. “I am not going to die.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“Yeah right! So Ms Know-it-all, do tell me, am I going to die?”

Sia looked at him over.

She pursed her lips and tapped her head with a contemplative finger.

He rolled his eyes. “Hey come on! Cut the dramatics would ya?”

Smothering a laugh, Sia finally shook her head. “Nope.”

His lips twitched.

“So when am I going to die Ms Sia?” He folded his hands and bowed.

Sia raised her hand in blessing. “I say never.”

She was rewarded with a laugh.

“The dust storm has passed and we are heading back to Delhi. The seat belt sign has been switched off but for…”

As the announcement droned on, Sia pinned him down with a smug expression.

He returned her look expressionlessly but gave up. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Sia maiyya ki jai!”

Sia clapped her hands. “Very good! I am impressed.”

“I thought you would be depressed.” He looked out of the window trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Never mind,” Sia consoled, “it happens to the best of us.”

“But I am better than the best!” He turned to her. “Tell me weren’t you scared? Not even a bit?”

“Of course I was.”Sia confirmed. “But not of dying. Of crashing down, breaking bones, hospitalization…”

“Oh those! That’s all reversible. I am talking about dying.”

“I knew I wasn’t going to die.” Sia said.

“But how?” He was all at sea.

“It’s all thanks to you.”

“Excuse me?”

Sia burst out laughing at his confused expression. I knew I wasn’t going to die because you didn’t let me watch the movie. And I wasn’t going to die without seeing the whole movie.”

“Whaaa!” He stared at her open- mouthed. “Crazy.”

“Yep! We Indians are like that. Crazy.”

He shook his head. “How do you do it?”

“Complete and unquestioning faith in destiny. “ Sia was serious. “If it is meant to be, it will be, if it is not,” Sia shrugged.

“Well your way of thinking beats me.” He scratched his head. “But thank you for not letting me make a fool of myself.”

“My pleasure, and more than happy make the Lufthansa TVC a reality.” Sia grinned mischievously at him.

He frowned.

“When you have time, check out the advertisement, but for now, after that near-death experience,” she twinkled, “do you think you could tell me your name?”

He held out his hand.

“Bond, my name is James Bond.”

***

A/N This is my first time participating in an indiblogger contest. I found the details in the mailbox this morning and voila! this happened. 😀 😀

Thank you for reading and do let me a note. Have a super day.

#MoreIndianThanYouThink

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Out of the Ordinary

 

It had been a long day at the office and Sonali was looking forward to putting up her feet with a cup of tea.

Raja, her 12-year-old-son, opened the door. “Mom, my scholarship money which was in the drawer has been stolen.”

Sonali suppressed a groan.

There went her hopes of relaxing. “Are you sure? Did you check properly?”

“Yes Mom.”

“Let me see.” She hunted high and low with Raja prowling about like a bear that had misplaced her cubs.

“Perhaps you spent it and forgot?” Sonali asked hoping against hope.

“No! I didn’t. I had Rs 7122. Now there is only Rs 122.”

“Why would a thief take only part of the money?” Sonali wondered.

“Probably because she was in a hurry?”

“She?” Sonali turned to her husband.

He shrugged. “It’s obviously one of the girls.”

Sonali looked at him in dismay. Who else indeed? Nobody else entered Raja’s room.

“Mom, are you going to call the police? Will they go to jail?” The bear wanted blood.

“I am not going to do any such thing.”

“Why not? They are thieves and they should be in jail.”

“There are three of them and I don’t know who has taken the money. I can’t just call the police.” Sonali was aghast. “This is a domestic matter and not a very big issue. I will sort it out.”

“Not a big issue? It was my scholarship money!”

“How will you sort it out? You do realize this is a tricky situation, which could blow up in our faces? What if they bring counter allegations of harassment?”

Mama and Papa bears pulled her in two different directions.

“Let me think! I haven’t even been to the washroom.” Sonali snarled. “And you,” Sonali turned to Raja, “It’s all your fault. How many times did I tell you to take care of it?”

“So it’s my fault? Not the thieves? You want to put me in jail and let them go scot free?” He followed his mother to the washroom.

Sonali slammed the door for some peace and quiet.

Her husband was right. This was indeed a tricky situation. She couldn’t –shouldn’t talk to the girls. Who knew how they would react? They would of course deny culpability. It would be better to talk to their mother, Sheila.

In the privacy of the loo, Sonali allowed herself the luxury of a groan. If only Raj was still around. None of this would have happened.

“I can’t come to work from tomorrow.” Raj, Sonali’s longtime and trusted house help, had said not so long ago.

Disaster!

Raj was Sonali’s right and left hand. A delicate health, a full time job, a hungry teenager, breakfast, tiffin, lunch, high tea, and dinner – the heat! How would she manage?

“I am sorry but the family is shifting far from here. You know I can’t read bus numbers. Besides I have never traveled alone. So.” She raised her hands in a helpless gesture.

“Can you suggest someone as a replacement? Someone trustworthy?” Seeing no other option Sonali asked.

“I will see. But I won’t be able to vouch for trustworthiness.”

“I suppose not. But at least send someone who is regular and doesn’t take too many offs. You know how things are at home.”

After a frenetic week, a middle-aged woman turned up. “Memsahib, you are looking for a maid? Raj sent me.”

“Oh.” Sonali wiped the soapsuds off her hands. “What’s your name?”

“Sheila.”

“Are you new? I haven’t seen you around.”

“No Memsahib. I have been here for longer than Raj has. I was the one who arranged for her accommodation near my house when she first came to town.”

“Okay Sheila,” Sonali interrupted her self-righteous affronted speech, “I do need someone to help me with the housework. But you have to come early morning before I leave for work and after I come back from work.”

“But Raj used to…”

“Yes Raj had a key. But she’s been with me for more than a decade now. I can’t just…” Sonali trailed off for fear of offending her.

“Don’t think like that of us Memsahib. We are of good family Memsahib. It’s just that we have fallen upon bad times.”

“I am sure! I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t trustworthy. But you do agree trust takes time? Even with Raj…”

“Okay Memsahib. As you think best.”

“And I don’t want you to take any leave without information. At least give me a call, if you can’t come.”

Sheila nodded.

Relieved, Sonali agreed to Sheila’s demands of a salary hike and handed over the reins of the cleaning to her. She could go back to having a cup of tea in peace.

After a bit of tussle with the men of the house who didn’t like the idea of a strange woman roaming the house and encroaching upon their activities.

“Why do I have to go out? My room is clean.”

“Who is she? What are her credentials? What if she steals something?”

“Whoever has objections can take her place. I will even pay for it.” Sonali smartly turned the tables. They backed off mumbling and grumbling.

Sheila turned out to be a God sent – she was regular, clean and a reliable worker. Sonali relaxed and bonded with her new ‘friend’ and life savior. Saturday was Sonali’s day off and Sheila would share a cup of tea her life’s woes and joys while the bears were away.

“Memsahib, this morning breakfast that you are kind enough to give me everyday? I really appreciate it. I come for work without having breakfast. It saves me time. And money.”

“My husband is a good man, Memsahib. No smoking no drinking, no bad habits. I feel sorry for him that he got me as a wife. I couldn’t give him a son.”

“Without a son, there is no respect in society, Memsahib. I gave birth to five daughters but no son.”

“My husband can’t sleep nights for worry. The other day he fainted because of high blood pressure. Running around the hospital is no woman’s job. I cannot even read and write. If only we had a son.”

“My husband is taking a life insurance policy. He has been advised to make his nephew as the beneficiary not me or my daughters.”

“My youngest says she is my son. She said she would never leave me and go.”

“Daughters’ weddings are expensive business. We are still dealing with the burden of loan for our two elder daughters’ marriage.“

“I don’t know how to control my daughters Memsahib. They are driving us crazy with their demands for an early marriage. The middle one especially is running out of control and is straying. She has a boyfriend. She has no shame in flaunting him. She carries on publicly with him. She cares more for him than us. She gave us an ultimatum, either we get her married or she will run away with him. Think of the shame Memsahib, we will lose face in society.”

“We can’t put off their wedding much longer. But where will we get the money to marry them off?”

“Sweets for you Memsahib. I am very happy today. My daughter’s second child is a boy. Now nobody can taunt her or me. Our ‘sonless’ curse is broken.”

“Memsahib, I need leave to take care of my husband. He’s had a heart attack.”

Sonali looked at her in dismay. “Oh no!”

“Don’t worry Memsahib. Your work won’t suffer. I know you also don’t keep a good health and I will make sure that at least one of my three daughters comes to do your house work.”

Seeing no other option, Sonali agreed. Besides, it was considerate of Sheila to keep her comfort in mind in this situation. But her neat orderly house running like clockwork was thrown into disarray. It’s not that the girls didn’t come, but each had a different way of working and special area of slipshoddiness. But Sonali had little choice but to bear it as well as she could.

And now money was missing. And who knows what else was missing.

“Mom, you are still letting thieves walk about the house?”

“I don’t know which of the three took the money. Besides, I don’t want to say anything to them. Sheila will have to deal with them.” Sonali said. “Until she comes to work, things will carry on as usual, except that we will have to keep a closer watch on their activities.”

A long drawn out altercation followed but Sonali was adamant.

Much to everyone’s disgust.

Sheila reported for work four days later.

“Sheila,” Sonali was uncomfortable and apprehensive, “I wanted to tell you that some money is missing from my son’s room.”

Sheila stared.

She turned off the tap.

“My youngest would never do it.” She said at last.

Relieved not to have Sheila take offence or fly off the handle, Sonali said carefully measuring each word, “You know your daughters best. I didn’t say anything to any of them because I thought you were best suited to deal with the situation. And there is no doubt I am afraid that one of them must have taken it.”

Sheila didn’t say anything and went about her work as usual.

Sonali escaped to office but she was bombarded with dire warnings and advice from all quarters.

“Be careful of these people. They are very cunning. They will land up in hordes and create a ruckus. Worse they can also file a harassment complaint at the police station.”

“So what should I do?” Sonali was getting more and more apprehensive.

“Forget about the money.”

“And continue to let her work?”

“That’s a bit tricky. Best you deal with it diplomatically.”

“But how?”

“Oh look at the time! And I have tons of work…”

That’s it work – work was the only distraction and Sonali pushed the domestic crisis for later.

When Sonali returned from office, she found Sheila and her husband waiting for them.

Now what?

Sonali looked at her husband. He set his lips and walked inside.

Sonali steeled herself for the worst.

“Yes Sheila.” Sonali hated the defensiveness in her own tone.

“Memsahib, we came to apologise and offer compensation. I know my middle daughter has taken the money. Please don’t call the police.”

Sonali stared at Sheila unable to believe her ears. “How do you know?”

“Like you said Memsahib, I know my children best. I knew my youngest couldn’t have done it. And my middle one has been getting desperate about her lover. I confronted all three of them. They all denied. So I accused her outright. She denied vociferously. Then I told her ‘Memsahib has a CCTV camera and she saw you take it.’ She broke down and confessed.”

Sheila wrung her hands waiting for the axe to fall.

The wind taken completely out of her sails, Sonali was dumbstruck.

In all the scenarios that they had painstakingly constructed, they had never ever considered that Sheila would accept culpability or identify the culprit.

“Memsahib, we have brought some money. Please take how much ever she stole from you. She confessed that she stole for her boyfriend and has already given it to him. We would have thrown her out Memsahib, but her wedding cards have distributed. Think of the bad name our family will get. How will I get my other two daughters married? Please don’t call the police. We just have Rs 5000 with us right now. We will give back the rest to you as soon as we can.”

Sonali felt humbled yet victorious, small yet exhilarated.

***

A/N Based on a true incident.

In response to the Daily post’s one-word prompt – Outlier