Showing posts with label She Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label She Stories. Show all posts

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Excerpt from SHE "Highway"

 We should not assume things without concrete
evidence. It only results in endless discussions. Does it not?
My experience says it does. So my brother and I were
driving down to the highway and he asked me, “Now what?”
So I was like, “What, What?”
‘You know, your life, what have you decided to do next?”
he asked.
At that particular instant we were passing a movie theatre
and as I mentioned I was under the impression that my brother
was only killing time, so just to infuriate him I said, “I am
thinking of joining the film industry”.
Now, being naïve to medical science, I don’t understand the
elastic limit of human eye. But I swear to God my brother’s eyes
were thrice their natural size. He did not need to mouth the
“What?” I could read it in his eyes along with the expletive F
word. But he did mouth the “What?” and I replied with my
“What?” He kept looking at me.
“You think I am not pretty enough?” I was enjoying this now.
“I didn’t say that” he replied a bit shyly. “But I supposed
you would do something respectable.”
This is what I meant when I said I got insight into his
character. He must be kidding.
“You think it is not respectable?” I asked. “People die to meet
film actors and just for your information it makes you famous
too. No one knows what Aishwarya’s or Sushmita’s brother does
for living. Maybe he is picking stones somewhere. (I did the
brother comparison thing just to annoy him.) On second
thoughts, that could make headlines. But you get my point? The
profession has fame, money and respect.”
“Not to mention, Lust.” He added with a wry smile.
This was war now and everything is fair there, Clichéd but true.
“Oh ! that’s the part of being famous. It’s a double edged
sword.” I threw in.
“Right, that’s what I meant. I bet no one lusts the brother’s
of the film actors you mentioned. That speaks something about
the dullness of their profession.” He added. Score 1-0
I was not going to give up.
“So are you jealous of not being lusted at? I am sorry but
little chances of someone lusting at your overgrown stomach”
(I told you this was war) Score 1-1
“Jealous? You must be kidding. And just for your
information. My stomach is a sign of prosperity.” He defended.
Score 1-1
“I doubt the army thinks the same”. I replied. Score 2-1.
“I am 33, alright and really sorry if I don’t fit into your
Barbie world.”
He snarled and I won. It was like giving up on
his part. We were in the last two minutes of the game and he
had accepted that any effort now was futile. He was Newcastle
without Owen. I was Man U with Ronaldo. He had no chance.
That was the end of our discussion. I kept looking out of
the window for the rest of our drive. The drive was indeed
scenic. For some time, I was lost in it all. Monsoon had arrived
and the rains had beautified the natural charm of the place.
..... I could not help but smile. My brother was still mad
at me for my earlier comments and he maintained a tight lipped
profile with all his concentration on the road. I was in a dream
world though totally bowled over by the scenery.
“If it’s a dream, don’t wake me
In this heaven just let me be.”
I sighed.
“What?” My brother exclaimed.
“I am quoting.” I said still looking out of the window. I could
see from the corner of my eye that he was looking at me with
quizzical expression.
“Who?”
“Myself.”
“What?”
“Is there a rule which says I cannot quote myself?” I asked
instead.
“No, but you’re not old enough to start quoting.”
“You and your prejudices” I sighed and turned my face away
from him to look out of the window. He kept driving and I kept
enjoying the landscape.
“Why do people get so ridiculously poetic and sentimental
in natural surroundings?” he asked.
“I don’t know about people, I am just enjoying myself
and the poem just crossed my mind. Why are you being
cynical?”
........“So complete it”. He said as we walked in the café and
seated.
“Complete what?”
“The poem.”
“I thought you just said it is idiotic.”
“Yeah, but you said you enjoy quoting, so complete it”.
“I said I was enjoying the scenery not that I enjoy poetry,
which by the way I do.” I corrected him.
“Complete it”, he repeated. I thought he was making fun
of me. I remembered our childhood days when as a fourth
grader, mom would make me recite the multiplication tables.
I would always get stuck at 13 two’s are 26 (I remember adding
13 twice quickly). My brother would be reading a thick book
and he would be laughing at my predicament. Bet he was doing
the same now but I won’t let him dampen my high spirits. I
had to show off. It was the outcome of 23 years of quiet dumping
of the volatile substances; I won’t take this humiliation lying
down now.
It happened naturally, my voice took a high pitch note as
I recited the poem. I was speaking louder than I usually do.
“Such is my bliss that I fail to see,
You’re surreal, you’re a fantasy
If it’s a dream, don’t wake me
In this heaven just let me be
Let me be lost, and never be found
To Walk away with you, spellbound.”
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Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Excerpt from "SHE" " Confessions"

Next day I took an off from work and was standing at the
airport to receive Arjun. My head held high, I knew he would
give up on me finally and I would be free.
Arjun walked in moments later with a blonde girl in tow
whom he introduced as his colleague from work. She was sweet
and smiled a lot, with her every flash of teeth I had a strong
urge to break them all. Throughout the drive from the airport
to my house, Arjun kept whispering something in her ear and
she kept smiling. They held hands and I kept looking out of
the window. He had indeed given up on me, but I failed to feel
the right kind of happiness at my victory.
Hours after his arrival, Arjun knocked at my door.
“So now am real enough for you?”
I did not get his question. So I refused to answer him. He
kept looking at me and his eyes were difficult to read, it was
not anger, it was not resentment, it was something which I had
never seen before. We stood like that for few seconds and then
I broke down.
“Why did you make me do this, Resh?” he asked and I had
no answer. I had no answer for my suspicion, for my inability
to believe. That question was enough for me to jolt back to
reality though,
“You go back Arjun, you don’t belong here.”
“That’s for me to decide.”
“And me as well” I added.
“And where do you think you belong?” he questioned.
The only answer I had was “nowhere” but that was not
acceptable.
I had a kink.
“Can you not get really infuriated and leave?” I asked him
instead.
“No I would just find a way to get back to you and we can
play at this forever and play at other people too, what say?”
He never once asked me why I so wanted him to leave, I
wont have been able to answer if he would have asked me
anyway. I was a hypocrite, I missed him terribly when he left
and showed that I didn’t give a damn when he arrived. I was
scared, scared of revealing my true self, scared of showing him
how much he really mattered to me. But he knew and that’s
why he understood and that’s why he forgave.
(iv)
Arjun continued his very obvious PDA in my house and I was
subjected to disapproving looks from my parents because my
loss was that blonde’s gain.All of which made me see Mudit yet
again, the idea was to be honest with him, tell him that I was
still haunted by the ghosts from the past; the giant, very
handsome ghost actively showcasing his talents in my drawing
room right now was enough to make me run to the fake mirage.
I decided to drop in enough hints to make him understand my
view point.
Make me less of a sinner.
“So Mudit would you be concerned if your girlfriend had
had past relationships?” I asked him just for the sake of
conversation.
He looked unperturbed and continued typing on his
computer without as much as battling an eyelid, even as he
replied in negative and then added a question of his own.
“Are you suggesting that you’re my girlfriend?”
Good question. Nothing was official between us. We were
just hanging out, not officially dating each other, not officially
declared a couple and not officially bound to be together, so
how did this thing work?
In our favor.
For now.
“No I’m not, it was a hypothetical question.”
He nodded.
“Would you be concerned if I had a past?”
“I guess no.”
He did not answer my question; I ended up answering my
own question.
He kept looking at me for some time and then raised his
hand to touch the dark circles under my eyes.
“Losing your sleep over something honey?” I winced at the
endearment but did not reply.
“Some past haunting you?”
I chickened out.
“Will you fall into a relationship just to get out of an old
one?” I asked instead.
Mudit smiled, maybe he got my hints.
“No, I won’t. I would wait until the wounds healed.” He
replied with all the sincerity.
“I would.” I nearly whispered.
“You would, what?”
“Fall into a relationship on rebound.” I looked straight at
him.
“I still wont.” He smiled. He thought my confession was to
trap him. My confession was the truth which bypassed his
egotistical mind.
I could not bring myself to be upfront about it to him and
with the passage of time and the deepening of Arjun’s affection
for the blonde my dark circles deepened. Mudit was a mute
spectator and I felt like I was cheating him, I did not have the
courage to call it off. I made sure that I meet him everyday.
It gave me something else to do, even when my mind was
preoccupied, it was a nice escape. I enjoyed the attention,
wanted someone, something to fall back to, show off to.
Whenever I stepped out of the house, Arjun would give me
a knowing smile like we were sharing a secret.
“I’m going out” I would yell out to no one in particular, just
so that Arjun could hear and know whom I was going to be
with. He kept smiling with no remorse and no regrets.
He confronted me on the last day of his visit as I was
stepping out of the house.
“I got your point, you need not do this anymore.” He said
as I looked at him and feigned ignorance.
“I’m getting married.” He announced.
This time I smiled and walked out of the house.
Its true in a way, when the door to your heart is tight shut,
nothing can penetrate it, and you just feel an occasional tug,
when your deep asleep morals sometimes wake up to give you
sleepless nights instead. I still was having the fling with Mudit;
my mind would be miles away when Mudit’s brain concentrated
on me which was not fair to anyone. But it wasn’t like I was
addicted. He wasn’t even my antidote on the addiction to Arjun.
It was just a bad case of drug overdose, where you take one
medicine and it overreacts and then you are given another one
and the side effects are even bad. I was suffering from many
of the effects. I did not even know where I would land at the
end of it all, maybe in a mental asylum, but I was ready to take
any bet to not land up being with Arjun. I surely had a kink.
The week was up and it was time for Arjun to go back and
needless to add time for me to say bye to Mudit, but even that
was difficult. I could not. I had something very human left in
me. I could not do this either, he made it easier on me though.
He just vanished. I would be a hypocrite if I declare that I was
happy about it. I was sad and hurt, deeply hurt. My ego was
battered, I felt used and thrown. My mind went over a thousand
reasons over why he would do it to me. No email, no phone
call, no text message, nothing. When earlier I was bombarded
with obscenely high amount of his presence, his absence was
hurting. He just vanished in thin air. Like he never even existed,
did I deserve this treatment? Looking at my intentions in the
first place maybe I did. Does anyone deserve this treatment?
Answer to this is simple. A simple, Plain No.
It was the age old hunter became the hunted syndrome.
Would it make a difference to Mudit if he somehow knew
all this?
If I had confessed my intentions earlier?
I figured out that it won’t make a difference to him, that he
had achieved all that he set out to achieve for himself and
somewhere in some part of the world he was beaming to himself.
I felt a bit happy for him and a hell lot sad for me when I knew
I had no right to.
And somehow I also set upon thinking many other things,
the simplicity of age old rules, how straightforward and easy to
follow they were. How important it is for things to be official.
When one can demand, complaint and if need arise legalize,
would have I done that? Somehow in the modernization I had
accepted myself as an independent being where the answers to
questions like, ‘where are we going?’, ‘Does this have a future?’
did not matter. I was the kind of person who did not believe
in forever. So I had no right to complain. I deserved being
deserted; I can’t even call it being that, it would be too brazen.
I deserved every bit of it, but I could not silence my heart which
kept screaming foul, only because it wanted to hold back. It was
used to the attention, the endearments. Its silly how when one
gets used to the fakeness, the hardheartedness, the things our
elders turn their noses at and we youngsters flaunt on the roads
so shamelessly, it’s difficult to turn back.
Its like smoking, everyone knows its bad, but no one gives
up.
Mudit was smoking for me I wasn’t ready to give up.
Arjun was the Alcohol Anonymous, I wasn’t even ready to
enroll; someone had to make me forcefully join it.
I wasn’t a feminist demanding my set of rights. I was just
laughing over the irony of the situation as I drove Arjun back
to the airport the next day.
Me, A single girl, who did not believe in forever, who did
not believe in the too real Arjun sitting comfortably in the back
seat with the blonde, his hand resting comfortably on her leg
and both of them deep in conversation. He was still shy, talked
very little, but she made up with her dazzling smile.
They belonged together and I belonged in my own schizoid
world.
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Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Excerpt from SHE "Achilles Heel"



“I won’t lie to you Joe, theatre is just a hobby, and I can’t
be as dedicated to anything as you are.” Rhea replied with a
smile. “It simply amazes me”, she added.
Her honesty and easy manner had impressed Joe. Whenever
he looked at her, he saw her smiling or laughing at some joke
with the crew or actually cracking that joke. When Rhea was
on stage, she showed full interest in her character. What Joe
desired was devotion but he was ready to trade her jubilant
presence with her feeble effort to become Miya.
“You believe that life shouldn’t be taken seriously, right?”
Joe asked.
Rhea just nodded and the effortless grin reappeared.
“Doesn’t work”, Joe replied. He was getting attracted to the
simplicity of Rhea’s existence but some invisible bonds pulled
him back.
“What makes you say that?” Rhea asked. She could almost
see Joe’s effort to be happy, he laughed with her during the
rehearsals, playfully ignored her mistakes but when she looked
at him otherwise as he managed certain other things, she saw
a cloud of gloom over his head.
“There are three things that make a man—Money, Fame
and Power,” Joe said.
“You don’t get either unless you strive for it.”
Rhea waited for him to continue but he didn’t, as if he had
revealed a bit too much and regretted it now.
“You’re famous,” Rhea counted on her fingers even as Joe
looked at her grimly, “your mansion is many people’s envy,
what else you need to be happy?” Rhea questioned when he
refused to speak further.
Joe just shrugged.
“What power?” Rhea asked reading his answer.
“Power to kill,” Joe replied and walked away.
...“Have you ever seen her eyes, Rhea?” Joe asked her.
Rhea just looked at him. She had no answer. She had seen
Anusha’s eyes, they were deadpan. Her eyes only came alive
when they enacted a scene on stage, otherwise they were void
of any emotion and if you looked deeper, you found calm sailing
through them.
“You see how calm they are?” Joe asked again. Rhea nodded
because she was afraid that if she didn’t reply, Joe would shake
her up for an answer. He looked hysterical.
“I want the power to kill that calm Rhea”, Joe said at last.
Rhea got her answer.
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