Saturday, May 26, 2012

[55 fiction] Uncharted Waters

Uncharted Waters

He shivered down his spine. He was new to “the business”. His grandma was ill, therefore his folks forced him to do it. He didn’t feel right yet.

Deep within, his conscience said it was okay to go with “the plan”. Nothing wrong will befall him. Locking eyes, his trembling lips uttered – “I do” .

Sunday, May 6, 2012


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 27; the 27th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The topic for this month is 'Once Again'. 


Aadhirey (or Addz) was horrified to see that mail on her Inbox. The perfect blackmailers email, failing to follow which she would (as cliché goes) face UNDUE consequences. It was there, speaking out LOUD to her : “Another get-together guys!!!”. There were apparently umpteen exclamation marks at the end of the subject. The subject itself was an exclamation to her.

Being married for under two months, to a guy who was her acquaintance – in the name of engagement for 6 months, she was trying to cope up with married life crisis (that people who get married quite later than the autowala age limit undergo), she was ABSOLUTELY not in the mood for this email. That too meeting THIS very evening. SIGHHH. She re-read the mail which had “voting button” (voting button! *duh*). She was ashamed of herself for thinking twice about spending time with girls who were her close friends. Getting angry at herself for being such a snob, she clicked on “Yes”.


Married. She was married for TWO whole MONTHS that she knew her hubby loved LOUD music, loved arachnoids (ewwww…) and her man also loved his coffee piping hot and strong “just as his mother made”. Bah – just as his mother made. The whole ordeal of making coffee early in the morning was SUCH a slap across her face. Idhula just as mother made’aam**…

There were better things to do early in the morning – like curling into the warmth of her comforter, dreaming about being a diva, waking up to bed-coffee – all of which she used to do at her ammas' place. All of which were passé. Now she held that compelling decoction maker before her which was a sad reminder of life that had once been.

“Addz, is my Coffee ready?” he cried. He was at the living room – slouched in the sofa, his legs conveniently placed on the armrests.

“Put your legs down Vaibhav” she snapped. “You are spotting the sofa-fabric and your manners have certainly taken a vacation. Please kaala keela podu. Put down your legs”.

He grimaced and got the Coffee cup from her.

She seated herself on the divan – golden one with beautiful miniature maroon flowers on it. Slowly she started - “Today evening I am going to see my friends ra..”. He knew her friends. She introduced her gang as “GAZA” at their wedding Sangeet function – Gauri, herself (Aadhirey), Zaira and Anju.

“You just saw them last month right?” he immediately pointed.

“LAST month! All right. Don’t you see your friends every other week?” she stormed in annoyance.

“Okay okay. Chill ma.. chill. Where are you people meeting? Should I drop you?” he questioned.

"Don’t bother Vaibhav, we are meeting at Coffee day Café only - it’s pretty close to our place right, I will take an auto. All the more you have review session today… ”

“oh yeah...all right then... Adios amiga!” said he, leaving the living room in a prance.

She cursed under her breath. Adios it seems. DUH. Adios. She hated people who used foreign exclamations – C’est la vie, adios, uber cool and ALL that. They just robbed the feeeeeling. She called people who spoke so as “peter pasanaga”, a Tamil colloquial word used to tease guys who spoke a LOT of fashionable English unwantedly. Here she was stuck with her very own husband who did that. More SIGHS.

By early evening, she started getting ready. Picking from her cupboard a white kurta with sequins along the cuffs - she teamed it with maroon leggings, LONG earrings and a dash of lip gloss. “Chic!”, she thought.

Now, at THE CAFE

Reaching the cafe she saw 2 of her 3 friends were already there. Gauri was not yet there, she would come however – they all knew about her, she even earned her nickname – Miss. Puncuality! They exchanged bear hugs – started off with superficial gossip. 20 mins later Gauri entered! Exchanging squeals and giggles they started ordering.

The girls settled for drinks and bites. However, they were aghast when Aadirey made her order – “Death by Chocolate”.

“Death by Chocolate, Addz? You really like that? Death by Chocolate?? I hate Chocolate icecream...” exclaimed Zaira.

She didn't reply. They just did not expect one.In fact they just started talking amongst themselves. “Hey me too!", offered Anju, " even I don’t like it ya, which is why I swear by Strawberry ice-cream”.

“Strawberry icecream? Over my dead body… “, another quipped.

(she lost track of who said what)

Another conveniently avoiding Choc Vs Strawberry war said: “I don’t like both I vouch for Butterscotch" That's when the gang piped – "Butterscotch!!???” (They look at each others faces, like she has SLEPT with ALL their BFs) “How do you stand that Caramel?!!” They screamed in unison.

//THAT is a reminder that liking some remote flavour like Butterscotch can still put you into trouble. Meet a gang at the once glitzy café and order a Death by chocolate, you trigger *THIS* conversation??” Such is coffee discussions these days? You seriously cant sip your coffee in peace. Why everyone has to prove he/she has THE best taste? Why cant one like something without being judged?, thought Aadhirey//

“Erm” she cleared her throat “am somewhat full ya, I will better have coffee.” Conveniently resorting to a harmless drink like coffee she got engaged in the conversation her mind wandering elsewhere. Innately she pretended to sip her coffee. Pretended to not hear all the you-questions. Pretended to not know the answers to the you-questions.

Gauris supertalented brain noticed her quietness and sprung saying – “Addz, you seem to have become quiet....”

Zaira nodded in agreement, squared her shoulders saying – “Man you have changed SO much after marriage”.

“Yes she has changed SO much after marriage”, they all agreed almost at once.

“No man” Aadhirey replied, slowly biting her lip. She realized the fact she has indeed changed – marriage didn’t do it to her, maturity did it.

She couldn’t just stand judgement, let alone prejudice. Their elevator eyes that judged her kurta, their brains that judged EVERYTHING, icecreams included. She wanted to walk out on them that very moment. While leaving her flat, she was looking forward to the meeting and looking forward to frivolous discussions on whether or not actor R. Maddy would do a baring act in his next film now that he is a PETA activist and other USEFUL topics like that. Not something that is not about you, you and you.

Counting the notes as they decided to Dutch the bill amount, she was happy the meet came to a close...

Now, on HER BED

*Stretching her hands and legs*. She woke up to her alarm, sat on her bed – knees pulled up to her chin. One kind of a day with the women, she recollected. She eyed him, he was still sleeping. Two months, she wondered. Now she also knew he loved HIS Sunday morning sleep more than his whole life put together. He was sleeping like a baby, she thought. And blushed – man too gooey gooey poetic she has become. She saw more of him and more imagery rolled out before her eyes –

May be she was TOO judgmental herself, she reflected.

He didn’t entirely fall into the category of “Peter pasanga”. He largely spoke and why even mimicked in Tamil. He was sweet - he promised he will gift away Wendy, his dearest Tarantula, as she hated spiders! Now how great is that?! And now, he was trying to reduce the volume of his Blueray Home Theatre - his immobile nonliving wife… come on… at least he was “trying”. Sometime back, he was joking he would start making coffee for him as well as her, as was the rule in ALL advertisements aired on TV - haha!

With a smile hung on her face, she left the bedroom in her nightdress. She heard him wake up. She once again started her day making Coffee - as typical as it has been for the past two months : Boiled the milk, made the decoction and brewed simmmmply flavorsome coffee.

Hmmmmm. The aroma just ran through her veins, so did happiness. Coffee making didn’t seem like a ritual anymore… The bitterness of the Coffee was long gone…

Like every other morning they sat together and emptied their coffee mugs.

Glug. Glug. Empty.

She eyed him and asked - “You want one more Coffee?”

“UH??” he looked confused, quizzical and flustered all at once. 

“Coffee, once again??” she repeated. And smiled.

**Idhula just as mother made’aam - On the top of it, should I make it (Coffee) like his mother?
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Friday, May 4, 2012

[55 Fiction] Buried

She cried bitterly – she wanted to live. They just wouldn’t hear her out! She was shut in the dark – the reassuring warmth around her suddenly turned repellent. She screamed and screamed.

Exulting her last breath in the t(w)omb; she kissed adieu to her faceless killers.Her crime? – to be the girl foetus :-<