Tag: India
Fighting a Losing Battle
Words ~ 800
“Don’t you dare shout at me Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada!” ASR’s face was black as thunder.
“Why should I not? Are you the only one with daring?”
“Shut up Khushi.”
“Why should I? You shut up. Besides you started it!” Khushi’s voice was hoarse from the slanging match.
“I did not!” ASR denied.
“You did,” Khushi insisted, “God! You are really high maintenance.”
“I am high….huh?! That’s rich, coming from you.” ASR stomped into the kitchen.
“What are you looking for?” Khushi followed him.
Ignoring her, he banged drawers.
“What?” She insisted.
Slam.
“You tell me.” He snapped. “You know me so well.”
Khushi pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as she accepted his challenge. She bent down and extracted a box of lemon teabags and banged it on the counter.
Arnav’s eyes flickered and steadied. He raised an eyebrow. “Clearly you don’t know me at all.”
“Oh but I do.” Khushi said mournfully. “I was just hoping I was wrong.” She opened a cupboard. “This is what you were looking for weren’t you?” She held a large kitchen knife.
Arnav smothered a laugh and flicked away the knife from her. “Where’s the kettle?”
“Right under your nose.” She rolled her eyes. “What’ll you do when I die?”
His eyes strayed to the knife.
Khushi rolled her eyes and snitched it back. She dropped it among the pots and pans and dusted her hands while shutting the drawer with a trademark swing of her shapely hips.
Arnav’s lips twitched.
Khushi plugged in the kettle and asked gently. “Shall we come to the crux of the matter?”
His eyes flickered.
Khushi sighed. “Arnav let Guddu go. He really wants to, besides it’s just for a couple of years….”
“Couple of years!” Arnav was up in arms. “How can you say just for a couple of years? Do you know how long that is?”
“You also went off abroad…”
“I didn’t have my parents waiting worrying…”
“Di and Nani were there…”
“Damn.” He turned away and smashed his fist on the wall. “It’s all your fault!” He accused, rubbing his hand.
“If that sorts your problem,” Khushi shrugged, “I accept.” She bowed. “It’s my fault. Happy?” She switched off the rumbling kettle.
“I’ll be happy if you rectify your fault.”
“Rectify my fault? How?” Khushi handed him his tea. (Side note: Yeah along the way, ASR had switched over to tea– coffee caused too much acidity and dhak dhak 😛 )
“Deva never listens to me. You convince him not to go.” He urged. “If you insist, he will definitely change his plans…”
“He listens to me only because I insist on things I know he will listen to…”
“That’s crazy!”
“Exactly!” Khushi pounced. “And I have to do that thrice over.” She paused to tick them off her finger, “Guddu, Chotti, and of course ASR.”
“Rubbish.”
“Deny all you like.” Khushi shrugged. “All three of you are stubborn and self-opinionated egoistic…”
“Okay okay fine fine.” Arnav raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t drag me into this,” he paused. “Where will he stay? What will he eat?” He fretted. He brightened. “Maybe you could go along with him?”
“As if he would allow his Mamma to tag along with him! He’s a full grown man.” Khushi prayed for patience. “Besides who would manage things here?”
“What’s there to manage here?” Arnav was blasé. “Angel and I will have a blast with you out of our hair.”
“Mamma!” Chotti called from the living room. “I’m going!”
“Going?” Khushi poked her head out of the kitchen. “Where?”
“I told you!?” Chotti sashayed up to her looking hip in a figure hugging little black dress, “Sammy’s birthday party. I’ll be late. Don’t wait for me.” She twirled around. “How do I look?” she looked at them expectantly.
“Beautiful.” Khushi said extra brightly.
“Bye Mom!” she blew them a kiss. “Bye Daddy.”
“What the…!” Arnav breathed fire into her ears.
“Now what?” Khushi was at her tethers end. Hey Devi Maiyya please! Sambhal lena!
“What the hell is she wearing?!!!”
“Much more than what you wanted me to wear.” Khushi replied tartly.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh how I envy you your convenient memory.” Khushi gritted her teeth.
“That’s neither here nor there.” Arnav brushed her aside impatiently. “Why didn’t you say anything to her?” He was agitated.
“Because I have already had that battle with her and lost.” She raised a hand as Arnav opened his mouth to blast her. “And better you admit defeat too,” she advised kindly, “before she also decides to look for accommodation elsewhere.”
Khushi watched with interest and intense amusement the play of myriad emotions on Arnav’s face, which could perhaps be best described as oops-dammit-left-with-no-option-but-to-allow-Khushi-to-have-the-last-word—–again.
***
Cough cough waise Arnav ko toh aap bhi achche se jaante honge? Toh aapko kya lagta hai, unka expression kaisa raha hoga?
Look forward your reactions to this retrospective look at Arshi and their lives and if you are interested enough, I may just have another one – soon 😉
As You Like It
For this week’s Sunday Trees I have a really bindaas one 😀
Covered
from top to toe
They cry foul
As they do
when uncovered
turn
a deaf ear to
the unpleasable world
take a leaf
from me
dance
to your song
as you like
however
you like
Faith & Fury
Faith & Fury
Words 101
“Khushiiii!” Heart in his mouth Arnav ran towards the edge.
Sweating and panting, bit-by-bit, he pulled her back and into his arms, for an infinitesimal second, before going on a verbal rampage. “What the hell Khushi! Can’t you do anything right? What if something had happened dammit?”
“But nothing happened!” Khushi inspected her scraped arms. “In any case, it’s all Devi Maiyya’s* wish. If She wants me who am I to fight Her?”
Arnav’s face grew blacker.
Khushi held out her hand. “Help me.”
“Ask your precious Devi Maiyya.” He snapped.
“I did.” Khushi twinkled. “She told me to ask you.”
***
*Devi Maiyya: Mother Goddess
Side note: Just a snapshot of my favorite couple Khushi and Arnav. I didn’t mean to write about them (100 words is not enough) but they have a habit of inveigling themselves and not letting go – apologies if it didn’t make much sense.
Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Jan Wayne Fields for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.
WPC: Life Lines
The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge this week is Lines. And guess what suddenly all I can see are lines 😀 I had to draw a line at the number of photos I dumped on unsuspecting visitors 😉
Let’s start on a high note okay?
Lines of wine bottles and delicacies to soothe the sugar cravings
Night lights and lines in a typical Indian Metro city. Any guesses as to exactly which city? Nope not Mumbai or Delhi 😉
Petals lined up in a neat circular pattern. That reminds me, enough of interiors! Let’s get hot and dirty.
The bare branched of the Plumeria or the Frangipani trees draw intricate lines in the hot summer sun.
One such tree though not of the trees which whiled away the time drawing lines 😉 This one is busy shooting lines at impossible angles that are in the process of being smothered by a green rash 😀
These Canna leaves have such interesting lines and am enjoying watching them blossom and grow with each watering.
This caladium leaf could easily be mistaken for playing host to a giant pink spider. Don’t you think so too?
Not just in life but in death too the leaves leave messages for us. What do you think it’s trying to say?
I think it is saying C you Soon 🙂
Have a wonderful weekend unmarred by any lines on your brow 😀
View From the Top
This week, I have this really tall one for Becca’s Sunday Trees
the young uns
rustle and strain
eager to also
brush shoulders
with the sky
buffeted by winds
engulfed
in icy silence
bare branches
send a whisper
on a leaf
the sky
is just as far
from here
as from there
it is not about
how high you are
it is about how
deep you are.
Hark! She Speaks
This week for Becca’s Sunday Trees I bring one that has probably witnessed history that continues to hold significance today – from the precincts of the famous Chittor fort. I have previously shared several visuals from this place earlier as well but this particular tree overlooks the Sati sthal on one side and Jauhar kund on the other. I could not bear to take photos of the place where women burnt themselves along with the dead bodies of their husbands or jumped into it for fear of rape and slavery by plunderers and victors of wars.
Hark! She Speaks
I can tell you
tales of brave
helpless women
Sending off their men
to wage battles
of honor and pride
Fasting and praying
for his victory
and
his long life
They were but
One soul,
one body.
If he died, she would
burn with him
if he lost, it was Jauhar,
for her
and her children
As the spoils of war
it behooved her
to embrace death
to protect her
dignity and honor
and
save them
the dishonor
of failing to protecting her.
Times have changed
The world has progressed
They educate her
indulge her
pamper her and
cheer for her as she shatters
One glass ceiling after another
But under the sheen
lurks a beast
that seeks to
subjugate her with
attitudes and mentalities
that are passed off
as our culture and
sanskriti
All said and done
it is still her duty
to uphold their honor
And his right to defile hers
it is her duty to bear it silently
to shield their bestiality
so that they can continue to
hold up their heads in society
She is still blamed
and shamed
Be silent
Or be silenced
remains the
unsaid mantra
Since the beginning of time
they have
hacked my branches
stripped me bare
And with cruel knives
carved out love notes
on my body
over and over
again
but did I die?
Did I hide nakedness?
Did I hide my face?
Why do you?
Silent
unyielding
unflinching
unapologetic
existence
is my DNA
What is yours?
Protected: Brothers in Arms
Protected: SPF: Where Ever You Go
Life and Death
As I come out of my shell and explore my surroundings I can’t help but notice a unique seasonal feature around these parts. Spring and fall seem to coexist. Leaves carpet the roads and mounds of leaves dot the sides of the roads until they are carted off to their final resting place. And yet gardens are abloom with a riot of colors – pink purple yellow and magenta. The peepal tree outside my office is a case in point. It is almost bare with a few green leaves determinedly hanging on until they turn yellow and reluctantly make their way down to whence they grew to such dizzying heights. And yet whilst this tussle is on, a new unruly batch has already sprung up gung-ho and eager to make their mark in this world. I have been feeling too inhibited to click this particule tree but I did mix and match some photos in an earlier post – Peepal in Spring.
For this post I have captured a few contrasting images from the world around me. Come scroll with me…
Clutching at straws
Brilliant and defiant in death.
Life towers over and mocks at death – it is not for me!
Yet some die before their time
While others bloom despite all odds
Even when there appears to be no hope or escape
Only when we accept that ups and downs, life and death will happen can we move on and live life as she deserves to be led – wholly completely, entirely and unabashedly.
Wish you all a wonderful day.
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