Lost and found

It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold.

I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend's wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. This wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batchmates. But what I didn't know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter.

I was almost sure it was she. Same height! Same long hair! Same complexion! Curiosity had my eyes glued to her. And then about 60-odd seconds later, when she turned, she proved me right. My ex-girlfriend stood two places ahead of me in that queue. We had never met after the college farewell.

At first, I hid myself behind the heavy man in front of me, not wanting her to notice me. May be she saw me hiding. May be she didn’t. A few seconds later, I sneaked out of the queue slightly on my right to look at her, and there she stood with folded arms, looking straight into my eyes, a wry smile. Smile enough for her cute dimples to melt my heart, probably for the thousandth time in my life. Ah, those incredibly adorable dimples! I had fallen for them 7 years ago. I fell for them that day. I raised up both my hands, as if to surrender, with a big smile. I remember doing that every time I lost to her in our silly arguments, back in the days when we were inseparable, well almost.

“Sujoy. Wow, Mr Sujoy Kataria. ‘The big Sindhi bachcha with a big heart.’ Jeez, dude, it’s been ages! How and where on earth are you?”

“Isha Mehra, Ishu, Osama! You cute little terrifying Punju Osama! My friend, I am very much in Delhi and I am awesome as always. You disappeared! What’s your story girl?”

Sensing discomfort for the big guy behind her, Isha offered him her place in the queue and now stood right in front of me. Facing me. The queue was long, and I could hear an argument between the first guy in the queue with the airline staff at the counter.

“Long story! I’m now at the Taj Rambagh Palace, Jaipur, managing their events. Dude, its luxury redefined. Some of the stuff there is legendary.”

“Woah, I am sure it is!”

And then there was silence. That peculiar awkward silence. It reminded me of my first real fight with Isha back in the days. I had snapped at her over the phone, she was with her mom. It was my fault. I felt possessive. Typical boyfriend behaviour, she had reasoned with me later. That moment when we both sat next to each other engulfed in silence. I felt the same that day. Silence from the outside, but a deafening turmoil within each of us. A whirlwind of emotions.

“So…”, I gave in. “Ms Isha… Umm, still Miss or Misses?” I cleared my throat. For some reason, I was finding it difficult to keep eye contact.

“Miss Isha. Proud and happy to be Miss Isha.” She hardly broke a sweat. She had always been confident. I could never judge if; when she said she was happy; she actually was. Her beautifully happy face hid many a sorrows. And she did it with ease.

“Hah! Just like me. Happily, single.” I twitched my words. ‘Shoot! She never asked my marital status, idiot! Why did I say it? DARN!’ I wished I had not said it, but I smiled anyway.

“Really? I thought you must have gotten trained to change diapers by now. Haha!” She said that and let out a hearty laugh.

Those cute dimples were out again. But my mind raced at that statement. Did she just say ‘I thought…’ which means she was thinking about me? Really? After all these years, the ugly breakup, she still thought about me. Are we on to something here?

A snap of her fingers brought me back to reality. “Dude, what’s with you? I’m sorry if you felt bad at that, I just casually said it.”

“Hey no, not at all. My bad, you know me don’t you. You know the absent minded me. Yeah, I still day dream. I stare at dead walls. And sometimes, in being the honest me, I say things that I regret later.” I smiled at that. It were these very things that she had found attractive in me.

She held my hand and pulled me out of the queue. “Still 30 mins until boarding ends. Let’s Starbucks!”

“Two tall lattes for Sujoy!” The smiling attendant blurted out. I went up to the counter and carried the tray with two cups and on my way to the table picked up a single sachet of brown sugar along. That is how she liked her coffee. Only one sachet of brown sugar.

“So you remember ha!” For the first time, I could see her blush.

“Of course I do, latte with a single sachet of brown sugar. That’s how you like it.” I couldn’t help but blush myself at that.

“We were so silly back in college. God, some of the stupid arguments I can recollect. We were so immature. Weren’t we Sujoy?”

“Tell me about it. Time teaches everyone. Or, actually, I must say, failed relationships are the best teachers.” I winked at that. I don’t know why I did it.

“Achaa? So what have you learnt from…” I cut her at that. “Oh come on Ishu, let us not get there now. I mean really, we both have matured since our breakup. We have met after 4 long years, unplanned, raw, and I assume in our honest best, why delve into the past? We both are on our way to Bangalore, and we don’t know when are we going to get an opportunity to meet again, let’s just make the most of this freak meet. What say?”

“My my, Sujoy, I must say you seem more confident and outward than what I knew of you last.”

“Haha, I take that as a compliment. Thank you. And you Isha, you seem a tad timid, may be more balanced and calm and less crazy than you used to be.”

“Really? Dude, don’t you challenge me boy. You remember what happened at 3 AM that cold night at Hauz Khas right? That, Sujoy, I must admit was the best night of my life. All drunk, sloshed, passed out, but that dance in the middle of the road, Jeez, I don’t think I can ever get that crazy again. And you, the pussy you, you should have seen yourself in the mirror that night, all embarrassed and ridiculously anxious.” Her words mixed with laughter took me back to that night.
I could never forget that night. I had never told her, but that night made me rethink. I could not handle the craziness that was Isha. That night made me realise, Isha was not someone I would want to spend the rest of my life with. Not her for the really insane things she did. And she did with no hesitation. She was different. Very different than me. I was the shy and introvert kinds. I could not handle freak events, and if I were to get hitched with Isha, that would be the biggest freak event of my life.

“Phew, yeah but that was 5 years back Isha…” She cut me at that. I could notice her eyes swell up. And that was a sign of danger. Every time she came up with these crazy things she liked doing, her head lines would curve up, eyes swell and both lips abandon each other. I could see the same today.

“I have an idea… Sujoy! A fantastically crazy idea!”

I must admit, that made me nervous. But at the same time, for some strange reason, I was also looking forward. Back in the years, I used to always accompany her in her craziness but used to be scared. All along, I used to force myself into the mess but remain sane. I chose to remain sane, be a part of the craziness but enjoy it from the outside. I was shy, embarrassed. But to make me feel better, I used to tell myself I should remain outside so as to protect Isha. Save her from the prying eyes. Let her enjoy, but keep a watch. I wanted to be protective.

But today, I wanted to be a part of it. I still didn’t know what she was up to, but I secretly gave my silent approval. And I was looking forward. Waiting to get mad with her. Be crazy, be insane and no holding back, that is how she was. That is how I wanted to be that day.

“Waiting… waiting Osama!”

“Text Parag and tell him you can’t make it to Bangalore. I will do the same. Not at the same time of course.”

“Ok! And…?”

“Just do it Sujoy. Just do it now!”

Several thoughts raced my mind. I had no hesitation, but I was curious. I wanted to guess, in my mind, what she came up with. I wanted to know if my thinking matched up to hers. I wanted to know if my level of craziness, albeit I know would never be the same as hers, was any closer now than the last time we were together. ‘Do it Sujoy!’ my inner voice joined in. My hands fetched my phone, I typed, and SENT!

“Lo! Done.”

“Awesome. Now. Tell me. Jet or Indigo or Go Air or Vistara? Quick!”

“What?”

“Choose one!”

“Ok… Have never travelled Vistara. So Vistara it is!”

“Awesome! Pick your luggage, and follow me.” She said and smiled. A certain air about her. A certain vibe that made me get up and follow her. Chances are, even if she wouldn’t have said it, I would have followed her.

She led me towards the exit. My mind raced. And all along, my physical self just dragged behind her while my mind was all over the place. I did not realise when I found myself standing outside the Air Vistara ticket counter near the entrance.

“Two tickets for the first flight out of here… Whatever the destination.” Isha looked straight into the eyes of the attendant.

Standing behind, I so wished she turned back and looked at me. I wanted to look into her eyes and tell her, that I loved her. Loved her for all the unexpected episodes she drives me into. Loved her for pushing me out of my comfort zone. Loved her for being herself, in this world filled with people who judge, I loved her for being Isha Mehra. The girl who shares her birthday with Osama Bin Laden, not just out of coincidence but because she was equally terrifying. Terrifying in a good, sweet way. Terrifyingly loving Isha.

The person at the counter looked perplexed. He could not make eye contact. After a good 5 second pause and a mild ‘Let me check ma’am’ he dug himself into the computer.

“Goa. Flight departs 8.25 AM, boarding is on.”

“Perfect! Two tickets.” She said that and handed her credit card.

I just stood behind in awe. Speechless. Motionless. And just then, she turned, looked at me and smiled. Her dimples were all I could see. Without a word being said, I raised my hand, as if to surrender, and smiled.

“Do you know Isha…you are special. Really special!” I told her as our voices faded into the early morning chill and airport announcements. For the first time that day, I felt, I did something that I am never going to regret in my life. The cute little terrifying Osama did it again…and this time there was no looking back.

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

Karma

“Sir, the journalist is here. Should I let her in?” The receptionist asked on the phone as an anxious Simone waited by the large floral portrait at the wall opposite the reception. The huge lobby scented with the choicest of fragrances and tiled with expensive flooring was the most affluent she had ever seen. ‘If this is how the lobby is, what would the CEOs cabin look like?’ she wondered.

“You can go meet sir now. Take the elevator to the 10th floor; it opens to a walkway which will lead to his office.” Simone carefully registered the receptionists’ directions.

The walkway was elaborate with large window panes overlooking the huge Mumbai skyline in the background while the other side was filled with murals from ancient India depicting the different forms of architectures from different parts of the country. As soon as Simone reached the office door, she primed herself physically; slightly styling her hair, ensuring her shirt and denims look tidy. A knock on the door, and the coarse and bold voice from the other side said “Come in.”

She walked in confidently to a huge office complete with fresh and spotless fancy carpet flooring, the choicest of paintings on one side of the room and large window panes opening up to the magnificent Worli skyline on the other. A monster size portrait of Dev Mehra, the owner of Mehra constructions along with his family hung behind the plush chair and shiny polished wooden table. A gleaming Dev got up to shake hands with Simone.

“Good morning sir, I am Simone from the Property Plus magazine, glad to see you.” She said while making herself comfortable on the chair in front of Dev.

“Good morning. I hate to say this but I have only 30 minutes, can we make it quick?” Dev said while looking at his Rolex.

Simone asked the first few basic questions relating to the general property trends in Mumbai and new projects from Mehra constructions which Dev gladly answered while she noted the main points quickly in her diary. After the first 10 minutes of fluent conversation, Simone gave in the first fumble as she slightly trembled in her next question when she asked, “Sir, there has been no consensus and several conflicts relating to the slum rehabilitation process involving five big builders, including Mehra constructions, from the city and the slum dwellers. What is the latest on that?”

“The latest is what we all know, government has given the go ahead to us for constructing townships while repaying and building affordable houses for slum dwellers elsewhere. I do not have any other development, except that we are still facing resistance at some levels which we are confident of tackling in the near future.” A confident Dev replied.

“Sir, but the scheme is only beneficial for the builders and governments. The development control rules are in favour of builders. They have allowed transfer of tenements and they can get accommodation under the scheme. But they are required to shell out Rs 40,000 to 60,000. How can they afford it? Also, they are forced to relocate to a far flung suburb, which is not practical considering that all are working as house helps in nearby residencies.” A well informed Simone reverted.

“Look, I am not answerable to you in this regard. If you have a question regarding the law, go ask the government, I have not made the law. And when it comes to these slums, quite honestly, they spoil the image of the big city that is Mumbai. It is essential to have them settled in the interiors while giving way to world class residential projects that make Mumbai popular among world cities.” Dev was clearly not amused.

Simone was furious but did not react. ‘Is it only to make Mumbai a world class city, or to make offices like yours world class?’ she said to herself.

“We all have heard about the builder-politician nexus, is it really true? Are such laws made by the government in consultation with builders, or in consideration...”

“I choose not to answer that stupid question.” A dejected Dev cut Simone.

“Sir, in the past few days there has been reports of a few construction biggies from the city suddenly going missing. Do you have any knowledge about that?” Simone asked curiously.

“I was made aware of that couple of days back through my network. Being a big builder in a city like Mumbai has a fair share of risks attached. We constantly receive threats from the underworld. May be they are keeping a low profile to escape the attention from unwanted elements. That is just my guess, I don’t know much.” Dev clarified.

Simone went on to try and dig deep into few more aspects of the ‘deal’ that had happened between the politicians, local authorities and the slum dwellers recently but Dev won’t budge an inch.

“Thank you Sir.” Simone got up to leave, “By the way, my interview is over, but just off the record, I know where the resistance is coming from, I just wanted to hear it from you sir.”

“What do you mean?” Dev got up in anticipation.

“Mr Bharat Mathews – he is your biggest resistance. The local self-made authority of the slums, everyone respects him and supports him in all his endeavours. Over the last few years, many builders tried to convince him, some with force, some with cash, but that old man won’t bend. He stands for the slums, no matter how difficult the force, he even has police protection following several threats to his life. He is the only reason you guys will never be able to build townships on that land.” Simone looked straight into his eyes, her glare getting sterner towards the last few words.

“I know that...”

“What you don’t know though is the only one weakness he has.” Simone cut Dev half way through his words.

“And what is that?” A curious Dev asked.

“Sandy Mathews, his only daughter. I know absolutely everything about her, but Mr Dev nothing comes for free.” Simone let out a sly smile.

“What do you want?” Dev exclaimed.

“Meet me today afternoon at 2.30 PM at the Aarey junction with Rs 10 lakhs cash, alone.” She said while stressing the word alone.

“How do I trust you girl?” Dev seemed cautious.

“Haha, all I can say is, you will trust me if you trust yourself! And besides that, Sir I am just an ordinary journalist while you are one of the biggest builders in the city. Surely you must be more powerful than me.” Simone said that and turned around to leave.

A perplexed and restless Dev sat on his chair, his mind wandering like a free bird in the spring sky. As soon as Simone left he dug his face in the cell phone. Several thoughts running through his mind, he dialled a few numbers but couldn’t get through any. After much pondering, he decided to go meet Simone that afternoon. ‘What is the worst that can happen? I will probably lose 10 lakhs, not a big deal really. But the upside is huge, a mind boggling 50 crore or potentially more, I should go for it.’ He said to himself.

Dev reached the Aarey junction by 3 PM where she saw Simone waiting and let her in his car. Simone instructed him to drive through the Aarey road towards Powai where she said her journalist friend is waiting to hand over details about Sandy.

“Sir, you wait here, do not get out of the car. I will go get the details.” Simone instructed Dev as soon as they reached the spot along Aarey road just a mile before it intersects into the JVLR road near Powai. The road was deserted with vehicles few and far between and no pedestrians around. In about 5 minutes, Simone returned and sat in the car with an envelope in one hand and another hand rigidly tightened behind by her back as if she’s trying to hide something.

“Your reward is in the back seat, pick it up and leave.” Dev told her in a hurry.

“And this is your reward Mr Dev.” Simone handed the envelope to him with her right hand while she hastily moved her left hand forward and with no hesitation cut his throat deep by sliding the knife towards the other side through his veins. Dev, least expecting this, was jolted to an extent that he just couldn’t react. His throat was cut so deep, he screamed with shock but could not be heard. His neck was bleeding profusely as he shuddered for a few minutes under the seat belt until a time when with eyes wide open; hands fallen and head collapsed to one side; his heart stopped beating.

Simone quickly pulled out a scarf from her handbag and covered the knife with it, took the blank envelope back, got out of the car and calmly walked away towards Powai.

She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. Looking back at what had conspired in the last few hours, without the slightest of remorse, she smiled slyly, her smile slowly turning into a devious laughter. Carefully she removed a piece of paper from her handbag, unfolded it and while placing it on the table, let out a huge comforting sigh. The sheet of paper, titled ‘Revenge’ had the names of 5 people, 4 of which were stroked off with a red pen.

After much self adulation in her mind, she pulled out a red pen and started striking off Dev Mehra’s name on the paper. Her soul felt relieved.

After the silent revengeful celebrations in her mind, she got up to leave for home. Carefully tucking the knife and paper in her handbag, she wiped her moist red eyes and confidently walked out of the cafe. While waiting outside looking for a vacant cab suddenly an out of control SUV marched into her from the wrong side, knocking her down before it thumped into a huge tree by the sidewalk. All that remained was a motionless body, blood oozing out of her head, and spattered across the driving license that read ‘Sandy Mathews’ peeping out of her handbag. Her relieved soul left her anxious body that very instance. A chaotic silence prevailed. ~

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This short story was sent to TOI as part of the TOI Write India campaign. Unfortunately I lost out to some other brilliant writers. Nevertheless, I loved writing this story and wanted to share.

Unexpected Love

They say you always find love in the most unexpected places and from the most unexpected person. As beautiful as it sounds, he thought it would be equally impractical an occurrence in anyone’s life. But, that day, Anil Mishra was proven wrong. As he sipped on his daily dose of caffeine, sitting by the large window pane, watching the rain drops dance away in glory as they spatter all along the earth, he reflected back on the most significant day in his life. One that to the last breath of his life, he will savour.

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“Do not run, the floor is wet, you will trip.” He yelled as he cautiously sprinted behind her to make sure he is not far away if she slips.

“Anil sir, do not worry, I am a strong girl.” She smiled while looking behind but running ahead.

No sooner did she turn she banged into a tall and lean matured man, probably in his 40s, presumably on his evening walk. Isha was so happy today, she gave out a huge smile to the gentleman as if nothing had happened and marched ahead in merriment along the beautiful Marine Drive in Mumbai on a wet July evening.

“Sir, I want kulfi.” She stopped in excitement at the sight of a kulfi vendor.

“No way Isha, you know you have a sore throat right, it is not....” Anil stopped abruptly as he looked at Isha and suddenly reality struck him in his head like a knife-poke.

“Ok Isha, come baby, which flavour you want?” He lifted her merrily in his arms so she could see all the available flavours.

“Bhaiya, give me malai kulfi, big one.”

Anil handed the money to the kulfi vendor and they walked along the queen’s necklace happily embracing the beautiful weather. Isha was a charming 5 year old girl who lived at a shelter home for destitute and homeless kids. It was run by a government funded NGO situated in the dusky and dense lanes of Dahisar, a distant suburb in north Mumbai.

“Anil sir, look the waves are splashing all over the road, wow, let’s go there.” She pleaded.

Anil, who had run away from his hometown Meerut to Mumbai to make a living when he was 18, used to work part time at the NGO, teaching the kids basic life lessons. He had a tattered past and had experienced all the hardships a small kid can ever go through. His mother had passed away as soon as he was born. His father, an old school orthodox who turned into an alcoholic soon after his wife’s death, blamed Anil for all that had happened. He and his family considered Anil an unlucky life and treated him as a liability. If not for his grandmother’s insistence, Anil’s father would have long abandoned him. Anil grew up amidst a lot of negativity and coarse around him, but he survived it all only under the influence of his grandmother. She would teach her all the good things when he was a kid, which he often fondly remembers even today and imparts the same wisdom to the kids at the NGO. Life however had other plans for Anil, for as soon as things were getting better, his grandmother died and left behind a lifeless soul that was always ridiculed and never loved. He left soon after for Mumbai, never to look back.

“Careful baby, do not run. Go easy.” I insisted she holds my hand while walking.
Isha relished the opportunity to play under the strong waves that were lashing along the boulders and splashing above the seating pavements to drench all the people walking along the stretch. Anil carefully looked at her from a distance, feeling a sense of bliss and at the same time sadness at the apparent turn of things that he knew was to come. Isha jumped and splashed along the pavement while getting completely drenched and cheerfully running around. She was never this happy ever in her life. She was a picture of heart wrenching purity, one that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Anil sir, you are so nice. Thank you for bringing me here. I love you. I am very happy today.” She hugged Anil tightly while still smiling gleefully.

“I am not nice beta, you make me nice! Be like this forever...” Anil twitched his words again, almost fumbling through the last few words.

He lifted her in his arms and hugged her real tight. He felt every single atom of his strong body cry out in aguish as he gave in the most compassionate hug he had ever given anyone. Small tears slowly started dripping along his cheeks mixing with the rain drops and the splash of the waves.

“Come sit here.” He walked her towards a slightly drier patch of mortar and made her sit along the pavement, facing the sea. He sat very close alongside her, hands firmly protecting her from the side.

Isha noticed tears in Anil’s eyes and in her innocent voice asked, “Anil sir, why are you crying? Are you not happy like me?”

There is something about the purity and candidness with which kids talk. No matter how stone-hearted a man can be, an innocent question from a small kid can simply melt a man to tepidness. Anil was in a similar situation today. He had no answer. He could not tell the truth to Isha since that would steal away all the bliss that she was surrounded with today, something he did not want. Sometimes being kind is far more important than being right, this was one such situation.

“No one has ever told me ‘I love you’ in my life, and you just did today. It made me emotional, which is why I had few tears in my eyes.” Anil said while still battling to hold back his tears. Anil was a sensitive person and he thought to himself he would always be candid and himself with people who he loves.

“Anil sir, your mummy-daddy did not love you?”

“My mummy passed away as soon as I was born beta. I only might have spent a few seconds with her, and my daddy did not love me because he considered me unlucky and always cursed me for everything bad that happened at our home. Only my grandmother used to treat me nicely, but she also left me soon.” Anil looked at her straight in her eyes and said it all out. He had never shared this with anyone else in his life. He had never got an opportunity either.

“Sir you are very nice person. Your daddy is unlucky, not you.”

His heart melted, he could not hold back his tears once again. Isha leaned slightly forward and looked at Anil’s eyes and while wiping his tears went on to say, “Sir, you have lived some time with your mummy-daddy but I don’t even know my mummy-daddy, but I am still happy.”

“I do not have anyone in my life Isha beta, no one after I came here to Mumbai. I only work as a clerk in the bank and in evenings I am with you and other kids at the school. After whatever that had happened to me when I was a kid, I have never trusted anyone in my life so I never got close to anyone. All I loved and enjoyed doing was spend time with you Isha beta, because I love you so much, but now even you...” Anil let out a huge sigh, but controlled his words and stopped as soon as he realised what he was about to say.

“Anil sir, that is not true. There is someone who loves you more than anyone else. I know that person. He is very sweet and is ready every day in the evening to take me to doctor uncle. He takes me out to have kulfi and chocolate whenever I want to. He is so nice that he laughs when you laugh and cries when you cry. You know who it is?” Isha got up to stand as she said the last few words as Anil held her hand to help balance her.

“It is you Anil sir.” She said with a huge smile on her face. “See, only if you love yourself will you love someone else and someone else loves you back. I know you love me sir, and I love you too sir, so that means that you first love yourself so much. Anil sir loves Anil sir.” She let out a huge grin and giggled hysterically as she completed her words.

Anil was so touched by this response that he hugged her tight and smiled gleefully while staring at the sea. He was a picture of sadness and remorse all his life but today for the first time he found love at the most unexpected place from the most unexpected person. He just realised what he had been missing all his life and secretly vowed to self to always be happy and cheerful, just like Isha.

“You are an angel and my sweetheart. I love you Isha. Thank you for showing me the way.”

He picked her up and they started walking towards the taxi stand at the end of a junction.

“Anil sir, the train station is that side.” She said pointing towards the opposite side.

“I know baby, but today, we will take the taxi home, it seems as if it will start raining again, and I want you to enjoy the drive in the rain.” Anil announced with pride which Isha gleefully accepted.

As they drove by towards their school that evening, Anil kept looking at Isha who had her eyes constantly out of the window, taking in all the beautiful sight the city had to offer in the rain. Slowly but surely, she started drifting to sleep since she was tired with all the running around all day. Anil slowly patted her forehead as she fell asleep in his lap. As soon as they reached the school, it was already dark and had stopped raining. Anil picked up Isha, who was reluctant to walk back to her room, lay her on her bed and put her to sleep.

“Anil sir, you will come tomorrow to take me doctor uncle again right?” She asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yes beta, I will be there. Sleep well, goodnight.” He said while pulling the quilt up her body.

Anil dragged himself back home that night. He was physically tired but spent a sleepless night. He kept replaying the entire day in his head several times while lying on his bed and staring at the fan above. It was as if he had found new colours in his dark and gloomy life. He suddenly had a purpose in life which he had long lost hopes of getting. However, every time he thought about Isha, his smile slowly turned into a sorry face. He knew what was to conspire and he hated the fact that he had no control over it.

Isha had a hole in her heart. Doctors had already predicted her death few months ago; they were surprised she was alive beyond the tentative time they thought she would survive. Anil cried a bucketful that night. He cursed God to have given a hole in the heart of such an innocent and beautiful little child who not only lives life to the fullest, but also inspires others to be happy. A beautiful dream was about to end and all Anil could wish for is for the dream to last as long as possible.

Next day, as he was getting ready to go to work, Anil got a message on his phone. Isha breathed her last that night. As soon as Anil reached the school, he saw a motionless little angel lying on the bed, eyes shut, with a beautiful smile. One that inspired. One that captured the essence of all life on this world. A smile so pure, it was addictive. Anil kissed her on her forehead and with eyes closed; fingers locked into each other, sighed, “I love you Isha, I always will.”

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“I love you daddy.” A cute little girl came running towards him as Anil looked back.

“I love you too Isha, I always will.” He let out a tear, hugged her and smiled.

Father and daughter merrily sat alongside the window pane and continued to enjoy the rain outside.


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This was published by Your Story Club, India here - http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-family/family-short-story-unexpected-love/ 

The sweetest dairy milk

It was the usual evening for me. Post dinner I made myself comfortable on the couch, playing the 8-ball pool game on my iPad, which I have gotten addicted to, while parents had all their senses glued to the nonsensical ranting from the very young looking mother of three grown-ups on the television. No sooner does the ranting get over and parents make their way to their room calling it a night; I get ready to battle my way through tough deadlines as I start my laptop to begin writing. Just then, I get a call from my best friend. I saw the phone buzzing, but chose to ignore it. He won't mind I know him, I said to myself. And then he called again. 

That is the thing about best friends. They probably know you better than you know yourself, and that is why they are one step ahead of you, always. I had a lot of writing to do and I hadn't even started for the night, but then, that is the thing about best friends. You can hate them, but something within you does not let you ignore them.  

"Where are you?" his patented first line. 

"Home, where else." my patented first line too.

"Come down near the main gate, I am reaching in 5." he cut the call. 

Honestly, we had been planning to catch up for the last few days but none of us made it eventually for whatever reasons. He had a few major events approaching which he had to talk about, and me, well, I generally always have something major coming up in life, which he wanted to know from me about. I walked my way down to meet him. 

I really don't know if this is common with other best friends as well, but whenever him and I meet, we never know where we are headed. That night was no different. As soon as I got into his car from the main gate of my complex, we just start talking. And probably without him and me realising he started driving, with no where to go, he took the first left turn. 

I asked him, interrupting from our conversation, "where are we going?" 

"There was a CCD here right?" he said

"That thing got shut ages ago dude."

"Ah, ok let me take a U-turn." He turned around and got back to the junction from where he had turned left, took a right turn onto the same road and another U-turn from the next signal brought us back to the same place he picked me up from. This was very typical him and me moment. We always meet, even to date, without knowing where to go. 

He parked the car to the side and inside the car, we both traveled places from Mumbai to Bangalore to Dubai to Surat and back to Mumbai within a span of 20 odd mins. We spoke about his new job switch, my experiences with the new girl I met for an arranged marriage recently, our unsuccessful past business escapades, and all that fell far and few between all the years that we had known each other. Somewhere amidst our serious conversation, I noticed him passing me a small bar of dairy milk chocolate, which I gladly accepted. He knew how crazy I am about chocolate and I know how much he hates chocolate, so there was no argument over who would have it all. 

All along the time we were talking to each other, I held the chocolate in my hand. Somehow I resisted in opening the wrapper and having it then. I don't know what made me hold on to it, but I just kept fiddling with it in my hand as we got deeper into conversations. 

After some time, there was a brief moment of awkward silence as if we had suddenly lost topics to talk about. Just then he noticed the idli and coffee vendor with his cycle standing near the car. Hungry that he was, he asked for an idli, and I settled for a cup of coffee which I needed since I had to stay awake for longer that night. Although the coffee was no match to the strong sugar-less latte that I am used to having at coffee shops, I ended up asking for it just because I can never say no to coffee. Be it any make. 

It was 12:15 AM, time enough to call it a night. After trashing the idli plate and coffee cup in the bin, he got back to the driver seat and started the engine, when it made a weird and not so heavy screeching sound. At first, I did not notice the sound, but then a few more unsuccessful attempts at keying the engine, it failed to begin! The battery refused to spark. 

"God Damnit, this had to happen now!" He cursed the heavens above. "What's wrong?"

"Dude, I guess battery problem. We will have to ask someone to push the car and you will have to pick it up while its in motion." I said. He looked at me with an expression which clearly read, I don't know how to do it. 

I looked back at him with an expression that read, neither me dude! I know it can be done, but I do not know how to do it. 

Since we were at the Malad link road, a place that is always busy, no matter what time of the night because of the many call centers and BPOs working round the clock in the vicinity, luckily there were people around us. 

I asked an auto rickshaw driver and another tourist car driver who were around to help push the car which they gladly accepted. I along with them pushed the car while my friend was at the wheel trying to get the engine rolling, with no knowledge how to do it. 

It had just rained some time back to the road was all wet with patches of water pool spread along the road. And I was in my shorts and slip-ons that did not help in any way for me to push the car and run along. 

First attempt and it failed. Both the guys who first helped us resigned to the idea and left since we had pushed the car a fair distance ahead but my friend failed to start it. As we reached a few steps ahead, there were a few more rickshaw drivers who came forward to help us. Second attempt and he failed again. 

Now, we went even further ahead in vain. This time, the rickshaw driver who had resigned after helping us in the first attempt came back. He willingly came forward, this time, while riding his rickshaw, he lifted his left leg and parked it on the back of the car and tried to push while driving his rickshaw. I was at the other side pushing it from the back. We again managed to push a fair distance, but no luck. The rickshaw driver left us in the dark, rode ahead. I could even hear a few choicest of abuses hurled slowly fading away in the distance. 

"Dude, do you even know how to do it?" I asked him panting because of some serious efforts I had put in trying to push that car. "That car driver said you should put the car in second gear and try to release the clutch and accelerate at the same time while its in motion. Did you do that?" 

"Dude, how will it work when the engine itself is shut?" he said. I was left expressionless. 

Just then I noticed another tourist car driving towards us slowly. Let's talk to him and ask him to help. My friend, a Maharashtrian, asked him to stop and in Marathi explained him the situation and asked him to take the wheel. 

Marathi helped this time again, I told myself. As was always the case with him. Be it the time when we were caught with liquor in our car while on our way to Tiger point, Lonavala, or at the time when he actually drove without a valid drivers licence in the city for a few months and not get the pauti. 

Me and my friend pushed hard. This was the fourth attempt. I put my everything as I ran along while pushing the car from behind, not bothered about the dirty muddy water splashing on my feet or the uneven paver blocks actually hurting me slightly as I went along with the flow. I exhausted all my energy and almost reached a point where I was about to just give up when the car screeched, wobbled, and the sound of engine broke in as I instinctively gave a rather mellowed down cheer, YAY! 

The car engine started, we exchanged pleasantries, genuinely thanked the driver and got into the car. "Dude do not stop the engine until you reach home now." 

12:30 AM was the time and as he took another U-turn from the next junction and dropped me opposite my complex gate, I wished him luck, with a genuine smile, picked up my dairy milk chocolate and got off the car to leave. 

As I walked back home, I somehow looked back at all these years of knowing this guy. We had experienced every unique, some bizarre episodes that any Bombay boy might have gone through from drunken nights, to arguments, to huge business ideas, to driving along without any destination, and to top it all, being hit by a police constable fiercely with his lathi outside the Wankhede stadium when we tried to jump the ticket queue. But this was a first. I had a smile on my face all along my way home. This was a small, probably insignificant episode in our lives, but the sense of achievement made me really happy. As they say, it is the small things that makes life seem beautiful. 

I finally unwrapped my dairy milk chocolate as I walked back home. That night, it tasted much sweeter than it usually did. 

The last bark

His car pulled up in front of the modest patio along the deserted dusty road. No sooner did he shut the door of his car, Moti came out running towards its master, barking in joy, tail right up and tongue wiggling in utmost pleasure. Moti was extremely happy to see Umeshbhai, as all the fellow villagers used to call him, who had returned home after a much painful city tour. Umeshbhai was a small time trader dealing in plastic toys for kids. Chobari village from the Bhachau taluka of Kuttch, Gujarat had a plethora of poor but talented peasants. Although the country had attained independence more than 50 years ago, and most part of the country was flourishing with commercialization, the Bhachau taluka and Chobari village in particular was still languishing in the pre-industrial age.

Nothing much had changed in Chobari apart from a few migrants from nearby villages adding to the 6000 odd people residing and a few crumbling schools, hospitals springing up in the last few years. Infrastructure was lacking, one could still see a few bullock carts tugging along, women drawing buckets of water from the well, and old men sitting outside small paan-beedi shops snuffing into the desi versions of nicotine. The nearest railway station was more than 160 kms away at Rajkot. More than anything, the village boasted of the primitive Shiva temple which drew crowds from several small villages nearby. It was believed to be setup by the Pandavas more than 5000 years ago.

Umeshbhai was considered a wealthy person, one of very few, from the Chobari village. He owned a big piece of land behind his house which he used to rent out to the village sarpanch for conducting their annual village gatherings and panchayats. Otherwise a busy person, whenever Umeshbhai was free or felt slightly unwell to travel to the city for work, he used to spend time and play with Moti, a street dog he had found a few years ago from the city which he adopted and gave shelter to at his Chobari home. Moti was considered an integral part of the family which consisted of Saritaben, Umeshbhai's wife and Madan their 10 year old son who used to study at the Chobari primary school.

On a chilly Wednesday morning; January in Kuttch region was the coldest period of the year; Moti woke up with a start. Daylight had not yet landed on the dusty bylanes of Chobari, a little before dawn, when suddenly there was a lot of howling and shrieking heard from several miles away. No sooner did the moans grow louder, Moti sprung up from its sleep chattai and ran out towards the street. It had learnt how to unlock the door knob with its nose and did not break a sweat in doing so even this morning.

Moti started moving violently towards the vast land behind Umeshbhai's house, ran towards the center of the land and stood there barking its lungs out, groaning in pain. Its strange behaviour and loud cries soon woke up Umeshbhai and a few other village elders who came out of the house, more out of concern for Moti than fear. Umeshbhai called for Moti, but the canine won't budge. "May be he is not well, we should show him to the vaidji?" said Roshanji, Umeshbhai's neighbor who also used to feed and play with Moti frequently. "Lets go and check." Umeshbhai sprinted towards Moti to the middle of the barren land.

Moti stood there barking, the intensity getting lesser with every second bark. Umeshbhai leaned down to his knees and hugged Moti tight, giving him the most passionate embrace. Moti responded by giving out a really profound mourn, one that had a lot of emotions, one that it seemed to be delivered from the most compassionate part of its inside. Moti was ill, it was looking pale and caught under the weather. Umeshbhai lifted Moti in his arms and carried it back home, carefully placing it on the warm quilt and covering it with a bedsheet to protect it from the cold. He asked his wife to warm a bowl of milk for Moti.

Within a few minutes, the warm milk seemed to have done the trick, Moti fell in silent slumber. Umeshbhai looked at it with a sense of comfort and felt happy. He left for the local market thereafter to meet the peasants while Madan left for school and Saritaben got busy in her daily household chores. Chobari was a really sleepy village, and the practice in the village and nearby villages was a unique one. All the small businesses and shops would remain shut for a few hours after lunch time to rest. The morning rush, business, satisfaction of work was not the basis of determining if the day was well spent. A good day in Chobari was a day when one would get the most peaceful afternoon sleep. Business and shops would resume only by 4 PM on any given day until sunset.

This day was no different; every living being of the small village was in deep sleep when all of a sudden Moti decided to bring an end to the silence. He again started barking his lungs out, crying as if to suggest something to Umeshbhai and rest of the village. It was getting back to being what it was in the morning. Howling for no reason, trying to suggest something to people around, running towards the open land behind the house. It invariably ended up dragging Umeshbhai and the rest of the village elders to the middle of the huge open field and stay there. It stayed there barking with the intensity getting lesser by the minute. Once again, Umeshbhai carried it back home that afternoon. He laid it to rest, looking at it patiently from a distance. Wondering what was wrong with Moti, he had never behaved in such a way in the past. Moti was an obedient pet and used to comply with all its masters orders. Today, things were different though. Moti was being difficult, no one knew why.

That night, Moti was tied up to the side of the bed with a harness. The rope was long enough for it to roam around the room, but it could not go out of the room. Umeshbhai did it, not because of fear of losing Moti, but out of concern. He did not want Moti to create a fracas again out in the fields. He did not want to inconvenience his neighbours and other villagers. Moreover, he was perturbed with the thought that a spirit, a supernatural being had resided over Moti's soul. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but there was little he could do.

All hell broke loose when in the middle of the night there were loud thuds being heard from the room everyone was sleeping in. Umeshbhai was stunned at the sight and sprang up running towards Moti who was banging its head on the door, trying to break it. It was weird because Moti knew how to unlock the door, it was still violently trying to bash open the door while being tied to the harness. It was very restless and nervous, but was really exerting immense force to break free from the bed it was tied to. Umeshbhai did not understand this and immediately released the harness fearing Moti would break open the bed mast. Moti ran outside the house towards the open field behind howling along the way and breaking into the deathly silence of the chilly night.

Umeshbhai followed Moti and found himself smack bang in the middle of the field behind his house. That is where Moti sat crying and Umeshbhai stood there valiant as ever with his best friend. The chilly sub-normal temperature did not seem to have any effect on Moti. It sat there gently clawing onto Umeshbhai's pyjama, not letting him go. Umeshbhai was losing his patience with Moti. As much he was concerned about Moti's health, he was starting to get agitated at the whole affair and wanted to bring it to an end. He picked up Moti even when it was protesting to be taken back home. Umeshbhai was furious; he carried it back home and tied it with two different harnesses. Moti cried in pain, but it had to give up against the tough built of Umeshbhai.

Moti did not sleep that night, nor did Umeshbhai. It kept crying softly looking towards Umeshbhai and then towards the door. Umeshbhai was worried but he did not know what to do. Slowly but surely amidst a million thoughts pointing to an equal number of possibilities likely; his weary head faded into a serene slumber. Next morning was routine, Moti was tired and did not have the early morning biscuits that Saritadevi always used to feed it. Moti remained in its chattai, lazily sniffing about here and there, crawling inside the house with no intention to settle.

That evening, Umeshbhai and Roshanji were sitting on the khaat discussing what could be done to bring back Moti to its normal self. After much ponder and discourse, nothing materialized and they both decided to observe for another day and then opine further. Umeshbhai had a busy day tomorrow since it was a public holiday which meant more buyers for his toys in the city market. No sooner did Umeshbhai settle on his bed post dinner to rest anticipating a big and tiring day tomorrow did Moti began to get violent again. The fierce little being with all its might marched towards the open field in the back of the house and settled there. It had one leg up in the air as if to call Umeshbhai and the rest of the villagers. Umeshbhai and a couple other elders went towards Moti and started petting it gently to calm it down. Moti responded well by licking their hands and pulling them closer as if to suggest them to settle with it in the middle of the field.

After spending a good few minutes with Moti, they carried it back home, tied it to the harness and left it to sniff about within the room. Moti was looking pale and exhausted, slightly older than its usual self. Soon enough, the dusky orange gave way to the gloom of the dark night. The chirp of the birds had died; the whoosh of the trees had all faded into the stillness of the night. Chobari was asleep. Not a spec in the sky, not even the moon could be remotely seen. It was the chilliest night of the season not just in mercury but also because of the quietest deathly muteness that prevailed in the air.

Next day, it was 26th January, 2001, the 52nd Republic Day of India. Whole of India was up early excited and anxious at the prospect of the patriotic processions planned in each city. Chobari was no different. Madan was all gleaming and ready to sing patriotic songs at the Chobari Primary School that morning following which the principal would be hoisting the national flag. Umeshbhai was getting ready to leave for the city with a hope he would sell all the toys. Saritadevi was finishing up the morning breakfast. Moti was surprisingly active today, he had been released from the harness and was sniffing along on the road outside the patio, behaving normal, tail up and waging about in glory. The clock struck 8.46 AM, and just then, the worst disaster in the history of Chobari unfolded. It lasted just 2 minutes, but brought down everything with unmatched valor and force.

A few minutes later, nothing remained. Houses were a mere stock of bricks and loose mortar. The Shiva temple was completely destroyed, with only the Shiv-ling shining about glowing under the rays of the sun surrounded by red bricks, half broken. Schools had only books, dusty slates and a few lunch boxes lying about above the heavy debris that had crushed all students beneath. Chobari had vanished from the face of the earth. Almost as if, it was gulped by the planet, forcing everything within itself. 

Moti sniffed around of what was erstwhile its abode. It was just a huge pile of debris now, across which it made its way to its room, sneaked beneath the debris, clawing its way. Soon enough, Moti emerged from under the biggest pile of concrete, picking up its chattai. A few grunts and barks along the way, it swiftly moved towards the center of the field. There was no debris there. Moti laid the chattai, sat on it, tongue wagging out, a sorry face; it kept staring at the picture in front. It was a sorry picture. One that Moti had already seen between its ears. A picture that had come to life. 

Moti let out a loud bark, only to hear it echo back. It was the last bark. ~

This better be worth it

"This better be worth it". I told her as she held my hand and guided me. I don't know what was in her mind. I was blindfolded and all I could sense is she is taking me through a crowded place as I could hear people talk in the background. "It's a surprise for you, have patience and trust me for once". This is unique to girls somehow. They will tell you something and not mean it, but still tell you. She knew I trusted her, but she had to say this. On another day, they will say the same thing, and also mean it. Girls, they can never be understood. Anyways, I did not say anything and continued to walk.

We entered a quieter place, a room with dim lighting and I could smell a really nice soothing fragrance in the room. "This is it, we are here! Mister, are you ready to face it?"

"Can't wait!". I said with a lot of anticipation and eagerness. I was genuinely excited. Also tad nervous. I knew she had been planning something but she never gave in to my thousand requests of asking her to tell me what she was upto. She did not meet me all of last week and also barely met for an hour only once the week before. She kept saying she was busy with her upcoming business trip and had to prepare hard for it. I respected the other commitments she had and always gave her the space she needed. She would make up for not meeting by talking and chatting endlessly on phone in the night. I was really curious to know what had kept her so busy all these days. She only told me about a surprise today morning when she met me for a few minutes. She forced me to cancel my pre-decided dinner planned for tonight with college friends for this. I hated her for that, but I was a typical guy after all, one extremely cute smile and a peck on my cheeks ensured I cancel all plans and only be with her that evening.

"Tada!!!" she said as she removed the black cloth that covered my eyes.

What I saw, completely took my breath away. I was absolutely awe-struck and totally mesmerized at the sight. My dream was in front of me. The dream I was living for. I could not believe my eyes. I could not believe the moment had arrived. The one moment which I was waiting and endlessly waiting for. My feet got numb, my face turned pale, and my eyes got watery. I could not feel my senses, it was magical. I was speechless. Did not know what to say and how to react.

"Welcome to Serendipity Cafe", she said it out loud with a huge smile.

I simply looked at her, tears rolling down, she came close to me and I just hugged her tight. I did not say a word. I could not. The moment was so overwhelming, it just got the better of me. I could not believe she did this for me. It was my dream. Yes, it was! It is no longer a dream, it is reality now. She not only made my day, she just happened to make my life.

My new coffee shop - Serendipity Cafe was all set and ready to brew!

The future mirror

It's strange how we get the best of ideas at a place and time where we least expect to receive it. It can be anything from as small as a new activity you decide to do in your spare time or as big as a multi-million dollar new business idea which no one might have ever thought about. Ever wondered why you get it at unusual times? Forget that, have you ever gone ahead and implemented or at the least worked upon the idea? My guess is that most of us, including me, have smiled about the fact they got an idea, felt happy about it and eventually forgot about it.

Today while I was in the shower, my mind was racing, as is always the case. I generally take not less than 45 mins in the shower everyday. In those 45 mins of the day, my mind is as open as a parachute. Absolutely anything and everything under the sun come across my thoughts. Sometimes it makes me laugh, at times I cry, and there are times when I feel absolutely inspired and motivated. Something similar happened today.

I'm going through a sort of a rough patch in my life off lately which keeps me slightly upset. Without getting into much details, it is more than enough to know that I am in a messy situation which has made me rather weak from within. Whenever I'm in such a frame of mind, I have always resorted to writing. I find it extremely comforting and I enjoy the feeling of penning down all that I have in my heart on paper. It makes me light. Moreover, I get a certain joy from writing that I never feel from anything else I do. For the past couple of weeks, I have been writing actively. Am writing a story, and I am writing about general life experiences which I'm going to incorporate in the story. A rather unusual way of writing a story, but it's working for me. It's like, I'm putting my insomnia into perfect use. Every night while I'm lying on my bed and not sleeping, everything that happened through the day I run it in my mind and there you are, I am left with so many instances and experiences that can  be incorporated in the story. Small things. But it is the small things that have a huge impact when put across in a way anyone can relate.

Today in the shower, like any other day, my mind was into my story. It was racing into thoughts. How am I going to shape it, build the characters and what not. Just then, something really simple but marvellous happened. There is a mirror in my bathroom which always gets foggy and unclear everyday because of the warm water shower. I'm sure there is a science behind it but I was least bothered to know the actual reason. Everyday I wipe off the face of the mirror with my hands so that I can see myself clearly. Today, I did the same. But what I saw today, absolutely blew me away.

As I slowly wiped the surface of the mirror to make it clearer, something different and really beautiful started unfolding. I did not see the same frowning face, I did not see the tension lines on the forehead, I did not see the shabby unshaven look, I did not see the crumbled hair, I did not see the uncertainty in the expression, I did not see the problems of the past, I did not see the worries of the present.

I saw a happy and smiling face. I saw an image of myself which I have always wanted to be but had never been all these years. I saw myself enjoying with my family and friends. The smile, joy and happiness is so comforting to see in all their faces, it feels as if this is what I have been living for. I can see myself as a successful author of several best sellers, I can see my brother and bhabhi as successful businessmen, I can see my parents enjoying the best years of their lives, I can see the girl of my dreams and the kind of girl I always wanted as my loving wife. I can see the dream house, the dream car, I can see the satisfaction and content in their eyes. I can see it all, everything that I ever wanted, for myself and for my loving family.

Slowly but surely, I realised I was looking at my future. The magical mirror showed me all that I have ever wanted in my life. It showed me my destination, the very purpose of my existence. I could time travel and see myself in the future. After about a few mins, my otherwise expression-less face turned into an extremely joyful and smiling one. Viola, I just went closer one step to my future. When I saw my future, it instantly brought a rise smile on my face. More importantly, when I saw my future, I got hugely inspired and motivated to make it happen.

When you know where you want to reach in life, only then can you know what it takes to reach there. This 10 mins of magical experience I got today made me realise where I always wanted to be but could never really see it. Today I not only saw my future but also felt it. I almost lived it. The future was so beautiful, now I know that not a day in my life will pass without me not putting any efforts to reach there.

I called it the future mirror. Every day I am going to spend time in front of my future mirror going ahead. Every day I will be living my future. Every day I will be reminding myself of what I am going to become. The best part of the future mirror is that it not only hides the past, but also ignores the present and only shows the future. It shows a beautiful picture.

Go find your future mirror guys. Not asking you to run to your bathrooms and look for a mirror, go deeper into yourselves and find what you really want. Visualise it everyday. Live it. Experience it. Feel it. Someone somewhere has very right said, if you cannot even visualise or imagine what you want I life, there is no chance you will get it.

Happy living! :)