Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Stranger in the Night

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31; the thirty-first 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 theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night'

“Akka, but he is a stranger!!!!”, Vinisha squealed to her sister.

“He is not a stranger Vinisha, he is your 'Husband', for heavens sake”, her sister grunted softly and rolled her eyes.

“Still...”, she continued.

Akka stopped braiding Vinishas hair, and with a wry smile teased her, “At least you wont be Strangers in the Night” and laughed softly. 

Vinisha kept mum. She could not see the humor in her sisters cynicism.  Arrgh.

* * * *


She entered the room - eyes down, nervously looking at her feet; suddenly noticing the red on her nails and the maroon-vines the mehendi made on her feet. 

He looked at her, silently drinking in her beauty - her red Tussar draped along those slender hips, her long hair adorned with flowers; her khol rimmed eyes which showed hesitation and excitement all at once; and that beautiful mark of Sindhoor on her forehead that spoke of chastity and commitment at lengths. He sighed softly.

She looked like an apsara, was she Ramba or Oorvasi perhaps?



* * * *


One morning, Vinisha retrospected the truth in her sisters 'joke' - 

He was not a Stranger. 

They were one. 

He was her all.

She smiled lightly; enthralled at everything; her future included. . . 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: Self, Participation Count: 05

Saturday, September 1, 2012

My first blog award :)

A blog award is fabulous, fantastic and all that you dream of, well especially when you dont have one and you are cozily eyeing that... quite insanely hoping someone might like you blog a tad too much!? And then when you get it - the joy is 10 fold!



Here my joy is 20 fold as I am nominated by *this* lovely lass, Menachery, whose writing  I SO adore! Knowing her only through Blog-a-Ton, I've been totally impressed by her writing style and I do think she will make a great script writer some day! Please dont forget to read her short stories!

Hmm so, I should say 7 things about myself AND I should nominate 15 Bloggers whom I find creative. Let me get started so -

1. I find it difficult to understand the 'naked' truth of PETA :P
2. I sometimes mute my TV and watch it. Yea, am THAT whatever-you-call-it. 
3. I get scared when i think of the fact that I am gonna lose my loved ones someday.
4. I can live on KFC and be shamelessly guilty and again continue to live on KFC.
5. I try to be detached and I-dont-care, but I do care. *weeps*
6. I have watched LOTR 123 and POC 123 back to back in ONE day. Did the same for Di Caprios Shutter Island, Blood Diamond, Departed, Revolutionary road. I am INSANE when it comes to movies! BUT I cannot watch movies on my laptop whatsoever.
7. I shut down on Saturdays. 

I would like to nominate the following people as Kreative Bloggers : Those who are creative in thinking, explore umpteen thoughts and ALSO bring it out well. Connecting with bloggers just over a few months, 15 is a HUGE number, so I sort of tweaked the numbers meekly!

And, my nomination rolls : 

Suresh - A lovely writer you are sire...
Apala - Her short stories are amazing! She also hosts a Photoblog.
Ganesh - For the myriad of thoughts he poses.
Rajrupa - Who has a way with word-limit(that I SO envy) and with words!
Ramya - Pretty blogname and pretty blogger! Her writing makes me *smile*
Jayshree - Who runs two blogs : her thought blog and cook blog! 
Aativas - Who writes like a wizard!
CRD - The synonym of creativity - read his short story here!
Panchali ji -  One of my top favorites :) Read her mocktail recipe and enjoy!

There was a lovely happy soul who was blogging HERE, but she quit blogging a year ago. So no donut there! Also, I should tag Menachery back again, cos she is indescribably creative. But alas, I end it with a THANK you for nominating me - You sure made my day!! :) So nominated fellas, please take the batom and say 7 things about yourselves, tag 15 bloggers and bring smiles about!

&


P/s This post was written on 31st Aug on SUCH a late night that it got posted on Sep 01, but okay - its great to start a month with a GOOD post! *yay*

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Dear Diary, its bliss..

The tongue is SUCH a spoiler, yes it is. Mine? No not mine. Mine is a goner, a rebel and an eccentric kid which rolls incessantly. Here I am speaking about my hubbys'!

****

A sickly sweet morning after the nights rain, I am in SUCH a lazy mood to go and ignite that shiny black glasstopy thing called Stove. I toss and sleep, sleep and toss; for quite sometime. Lovely aroma seeps from the Kitchen waking me up. Sleepy eyed, I leave my bed and freshen up quick.

I am greeted by Coffee and Toast, on my best Chinaware, by Hubby himself! I am SO thrilled. The day has just started and it already cant get any better! I am ravenously hungry, and start sipping my Coffee munching into the toasts. When he says - "Oru Thank you kooda...?". Wheres' the Thank you?

I reply - "HEY po! Did you thank me for all the breakfasts, lunch and dinner I have served you SO long? Where are all my Thank yous? A zillion of them?? Eh????"












.
He replies with a puss-in-boots-looks. *aww?*

I continue munching my toast... managing to say "Daaaank-youuuu" amidst mouthsful and of course making a face!

This (married) life...

Its' wonderful :)

Sunday, August 5, 2012

[Short story] The Butterfly Brooch



This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 30; the thirtieth 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.



It was another beautiful evening; the lovely sunset gave golden gleam to the water. Tanay strolled along the shores of Kovalam beach; waves kissing his feet. He was not ready to admire it; his mind was full of questions. He recollected the time when he almost was a murderer. Chennai beaches could never scale up to Digha beach back in Kolkotta, his hometown. But Chennai beaches were where they shared belly ripping laughter and mind ripping taunts. Where they walked miles, chattering aimlessly…

A ball fell on him, jolting him… “Anna, ball please..” a boy of 11 shouted. Brother, give me the ball. 

He looked across his shoulder, staring at the child for waking him from his thoughts. They were playing cricket.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Debbie migrated from Kolkotta to Chennai purely for work purposes. She couldn’t resist the pay cheque that she decided to part from the city which grew her, Kolkotta. It was quite a battle with the Chennai, automen who cheated, roadside Romeos who whistled at her every night before she could head to her PG, a portion of the salary being spent on atrocious room rents, annoying breakfasts called idlis and gazillion rupees gone in the name of phone bill. Arggh. The only thing that she looked forward to were Rosogollas at Sri Krishna sweets after those beach walks.



Oh how she loved Rosogollas! Well Rosogollas and Tanay. . . 

Tanay Roy, was her teammate – sharing the same date of joining and mother tongue, they shared a lot of their time together.  She loved those evening walks with him. Though he was busy yapping about some lady crush of his, whom he would claim to love to bits. She would laugh at the antics that he comes up in order to impress those yucky made up colleagues in their Team, sometimes scoff. But she loved him nevertheless.

Why is he blind to me? She thought. High check-bones, sharp eyes, bouncy hair, and a bonus dimple – she felt she looked okay – likable. “Why is he ever SO blind to me?” she thought aloud, applying one more round of bleach. No amounts of bleaches and face packs caught his attention. He was yet again yapping shamelessly about his hopeless romanticism.

"Mashider pichhone khali jao keno?", she questioned. Do you only go behind aunties?

Tanay laughed boisterously, irritating her all the more.
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

That morning, Tanay had come to her PG to pick her up. 20 mins later, reaching the Pub - "Bike and Barrel", they met their friends at Phillip and Kamalika Dutta… slapping backs and hugging out. 

“Hmm.. so ssup man??”, Tanay asked Phillip questioningly.

“erm… well.. we’ve decided to..umm… tie the knot…” replied Phillip coyly.

Debbie hugged Kamalika, when Tanay furiously punched Phillip for hiding ALL that information. “Saaley, you never told us…??? I thought this was another harmless meet!! You are SUCH a con!” he screamed, “traitor! so when is the big day huh??”

“Next Month Tanay… 1st Sunday of September”, pitched in Kamalika, “my parents will never accept this… getting married into a Christian family. As you might have speculated, this will be a register marriage. Since we are not in a position to make a grand affair, we just decided to throw our close friends alone a post-wedding party in Beach house in ECR…on Sunday eve… you both should come”.

“Of course we will… “replied Debbie. She looked longingly at Tanay and wished for a day as such. They’ll not even have to rush into sneaky marriages – both she and Tanay were Bengalis and of the same caste. They will have a 'love-arranged marriage' as it was called. Wait a minute! He didn’t even know she existed… :-/ and here she was dreaming of marriages? Duh. 

They ordered their drinks, the girls settled for orange juices when the guys wanted HOT stuff. They soon lost the count of drinks they had.Tanay always could not stop with a few drinks, and it hurt Debbie to see him so helpless.


“Keep it low Tanay”, Debbie intervened, it was not the first time she stopped him, “You have had enough, its time for us to leave I guess..”. 

“Yes mom”, he replied chiding her.

They reached her PG around 1AM down into the night,“See in spite of the drinks I have kept you safe… Aiii will kippp you safeuu.. Aiii promishh..” he said in a faltering tone.

She shrugged, “Please reach home and message me… Okay?”

Few minutes later, her phone beeped and read: “Reached. Had a nyc time. . . n ukw? Will tell u 2mrw... :P”

Sober idiot, she thought.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 


Wedding Party at ECR Beach house.
Evening.

Both the bride and the groom were looking ravishing. Phillp looked smart and prim. Dressed in her beautiful beige gown, Kamalika could almost pass for a Anglo bride. But the most beautiful woman on the floor was Debolina Gangopdhay, his Debbie who was dressed in a satin evening dress; the lavender gown ran until her knees, showing her flawless long legs. She wore a butterfly brooch on her hairdo, which glittered making her even more lovely.

Tanay sighed. He had fooled her enough, making her believe he was not interested in her at all. Its time he broke it, he thought.

That night close to thirty youngsters danced into the night...

“Have a little na??” they forced Debbie to drink... “Arrey, have little yaar...”

After a series of NOs, she gave up being a non-alcholic. She in fact enjoyed Vodka and the immediate high it gave her! She was happieee, after all who would not be? She was dancing breast to breast with the only man whom she loved on the whole earth! They continued to dance and gulp down fervently.

Slowly the DJ started moving away from the frenzy songs to mushy songs, making the couple rush out of the dance floor, needing that ounce of privacy. Soon the dance floor was almost empty, Debbie and Tanay found themselves on the beach. The dark night-sea drawing white foamy patterns around their feet…

“This is the best night I have ever had…” Tanay said taking her palms. There was silence but for the waves. Tanay drew her close to him and kissed her softly.. real soft... he broke the kiss, looked into her eyes and asked "Will you…?” and cleared his throat, leaving the question incomplete.

She chirped, breaking off from his grip, she ran into the waters, laughing and venturing deeper and deeper. He ran behind her, she was trying to wade more into the sea. He did not know how to stop her, he was unbelievably drunk. He had no clarity of mind.

He stood dumbstruck as his girl was being mauled by the waves… her giggles getting fainter and fainter… Time stood still… so did he…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Someone tried to shake him up from the shore, "Err..", he opened his eyes; his head felt heavy; blurred with a few screams. “Where is Debbie..?” he could see them mouth; he heard no sound.

He faintly saw his friend picking up a butterfly brooch along the beach; it looked broken and frayed.  “OH MY GOD”, he heard him scream. Some sirens later, he saw his friend signing against the name Debolina Ghangopdhay I.C.U. ward form.

Tanay rammed his head on the hospital wall. He screamed. His life was on her death bed, she was fighting against a series of intravenous-tubes in her body. “Will you marry me...?” might become a question unasked forever. With streaming tears of despair, he screamed softly “Will you marry me Debbie… Debbie… Debbbbiee pleaaaase can you hear me…?”.

She could hear him, she wanted to reply - "Shut up, you idiot. I will be fine", but there were tubes in her mouth.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Three weeks after that unforgettable day, he started volunteering in the Drug Rehab NGO – Helping drug addicts, propagating cons of liquor and advocating also against drunk and drive. He called his project – “Butterfly brooch”, all the members who were signed in his group were given a Butterfly-brooch. They were supposed to introduce and help their friends and acquaintances who were suffering. His organization till date had helped close to 417 families.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Turning towards the little boy, he tossed the sandy ball back to him and smiled.

“Thanks anna”. Thank you brother, said the 11 year old child, “I have seen you before. Appa used to come to your seminars, he is a lot healthy now…", continued the boy, "and the brooch is very cute!” he called after Tanay.

Tanay smiled. But he couldn't stop for a chat with the boy, he was running late. He had to take Debbie for her 3rd trimester ultrasound.  Therefore replying the little boy with a larger smile, he strode away.

As he walked, he fished into his pocket and took out a broken and frayed brooch…

He realized that the frayed butterfly had spread its color seamlessly..



Credits :
Bengali Translation : Anindya Roy :)
Pictures : Google image search

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. I’m thankful to BLOGGER NAME, who introduced Blog-a-Ton to me, and I debuted in 27 edition.



Credits

Image - Shades of Orange by Harsha Chittar
Courtesy - Curious Dino Photography via www.blogaton.in

Sunday, May 6, 2012

ONCE AGAIN?

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'. 

Now, at HER STUDY

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”.

Now, at HER LIVING

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.
By,
Kappu


**Idhula just as mother made’aam - On the top of it, should I make it (Coffee) like his mother?
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.