C for ... Child

Sana paced through along the length of dusty corridor like some maniac bat-bitten old lady. The pressure cranked inside her making her heave hollow breathes.

“Damn Danny! Damn it” She looked at him expecting some kind of solution yet he looked as clueless as her. No one in there knew what to do. Not Angela who was on verge of crying. Not Andy who was jarred with so many feelings and confessions.

In fifteen minutes they needed to show up at judge with father of the child. That irresponsible shameless person who didn’t even recognize Angela when she showed up with her baby bump, had blamed her, they were expecting that same fool to show up before judge along with the crowd just as much ceremoniously as the adoption formalities needed. So that her baby won’t be abandoned, family-less growing up on country-service fund, wearing hands down clothes.

The lanky office boy appeared again, informing them that it is their turn. Angela looked pathetically at the parking lot, begging that the expectant fool will show up. She prayed that at least this time she will be less embarrassed. At least for once she deserved to be held along.

They all prepared to enter the room. They all hoped there would be some way to convince the judge that adoption could be done solely by mother without any intervention of father. There seemed no sense in this law. It was like either pull your socks up full and live in warmth under fire and if your socks is torn then you may roll in snow and rot in cold. Sana and Danny entered together holding hands praying for some miracle. Angela sighed heavily clutching the broken heart and rose from her seat.

“One minute Angela.” Andy’s voice pushed Angela back to the seat.

Andy came and slowly went down on his knees. His face was near to her, so near that it reminded her of the human warmth she had missed from a long time.

“We knew this situation was a probability. And we had discussed it before. Me, Sana and Danny. Well everyone hit dead end I had one way out.” He shook his head. “I didn’t tell anyone then and had hoped that I wouldn’t have to tell it anyone ever.” He paused. “But before anything I need your assent.”

“What are you talking about?” Angela voice croaked.

Andy popped in his lips. He knew when the words are out, the control will be gone from his hand. Rest will be mere repercussion. He swallowed the silence and carefully formed the word. “Since the day you walked into the apartment with Sana, since the moment my eyes fell on you, I am in kind of awe with you. For days I have struggled with it, fought with it, unsure of it.”

Angela shifted a bit in place. But she didn’t speak. She was scared for any words to ruining everything.

“I have never been so driven in my life. Every time I am around you I feel protective of you. I feel good when you laugh, the best when I am the reason. I hate it when something out of blue brings back the pain to you. I want to bust all those bad memories. I want to kiss away your pain.”

“Shit” Andy muttered “I sound kinda teenager.”  A crack of smile appeared on Angela’s face behind the flow of hot tears.

Andy lowered his head, staring at the narrow feet of Angela for a minute before looking back at her eyes.

“Angela.” He spoke gently like her name was some fragile popsicle. “It might not be the perfect place or time. I might not even be the perfect guy. Yet you once said perfect is boring. So would you just like to give me a chance to make our life bit more imperfect and less boring?

 “And also would you give me the opportunity to be the father of the child in that room? No. Not because my sister needs the baby and it will solve all the trouble.  It’s because I want to hold you in there. You don’t deserve to go alone all your own. Would you Angela?”

The answer was there in Angela’s eyes as she sat there biting her lips, her hands caressing the mound.

A few days back when her results were positive she was shocked and but she couldn’t kill the child no matter how much easier that sounded than raising a child all alone. She felt like the child was a blessing. Not exactly the way you pray for but the child was blessing in disguise. She met Sana though her business and became friends. Sana and Danny were trying for a child from past six years. When Angela came to know about it, she offered them for the adoption. Not because she didn’t love her child. Rather she wanted a better future for her child. She didn’t have anyone. What if something happens to her, where the child would end up?

Sana offered her a place to stay as a tenant to her brother, Andy. Angela didn’t know she would ever meet a person who will come up over all the prejudices and become best friend. And now? He was confessing his feelings? Where did it all come from? She couldn’t think of anything else than this godly child.

Google Image

What will you ask from your Santa

I know the concept of Santa Cluas is pure myth and childish. He is just a legendary character. Neither anyone has ever seen it nor has any evidence that would trail us to the place of Santa. So a big portly joyful man with pounds of beard covering his face, wearing red, laughing and singing, shouting ho-ho-ho and carrying a bag full of gifts, is  mere an illusion.

Yet, just for a while, keeping all the logics aside, let the child inside us imagine that there is Santa, who will come to you on the night before Christmas and silently slip something you wish for in the hanging stockings, something that you would have been banging your legs before your parents to bring. Then? What would you wish for?

Let me guess. A beach house, a month long vacation to some exotic place, a handsome guy or pretty girl, whichever is your pick, straight out of dream, a successful career, big promotion, name and fame. That’s what adults would wish for. By the time we grow up, our mind is so adulterated and disciplined by the societies need and our need that the only thing we see is ourselves. We are so busy to even pause a while and think back of what is going around before the destruction has inched in before us.

When I was around six years old and barely could speak Merry Christmas, I wished for a sister. A sister, with whom I would share my bed and my gossips. I would take her hand and walk her around. I would bring her chocolates of my share. I would spend in her choice of toy from my pocket money. I would warn her against the perverts. I would not let any boy make her cry. And if it happened the guy would not be alive to take another single breath. I would be the proud and fierce protective elder sister. I became an elder sister but to a cute lil boy. I won’t say I regret it but still, I craved for a sister.

When I was around fifteen years old, an age where hormones get a mind of their own and your brain becomes a complete useless puddle, I wanted somehow to bump to my then bollywood heartthrob. I wished to talk to him, impress him, surprise him somehow. I wanted to go out with him, pose before shutterbugs holding his hand, become a front-page news. Ah! What a silly wish. And I was so desperate that time that you can  replace all the ‘wished’ in the lines with ‘was dying’.

Now that I am twenty-two this Christmas, do you know what I wish for? I think you will laugh at me when I say my unrealistic wish. This time I wish from Santa to take me to a world, where no one will be killing someone else for their religion. No one will be shameless enough to say that a girl was raped because she was using a mobile phone and no one will be ridiculous enough to support them. No one will be butchered because they loved someone from other caste. No girl will be burnt alive because her parents could not afford the skyscraper demands from her in-laws. No child will be pumped in to death because some a$*hole doctor diagnosed its gender as female. And because I tired here. I am tired of accepting all these bullshit. I am tired of realizing this mindlessness of people and this imbalance between progression of science and contraption of people’s mind. I don’t want to be a part these people. I want to go away.

I don’t whether my wish will be fulfilled or not, but yet before going to bed I wish for this and hope that tomorrow in the eve of Merry Christmas my wish will be fulfilled.

On this pretext, I would love to know what is your wish for this Christmas? Please do comment.

P.S: The post was supposed to be posted yesterday night only. But I have a bunch of crazy friend who don’t think I should even write in Christmas. Hope this procrastination will be forgiven.

Source-Google Image

Things Itching At My Back

I was never a newspaper seeker. It was only written piece on the earth to get my sideway glance. I would prefer a mammoth book of 600 pages written in some obscure language than it. Nothing in those large papers ever made any sense to me. But unfortunately I am right now in such a phase of life where I don't want to look like fool. And after the alia bhatt incident in Karan Johar show, I am more scared to be an idiot. So I guess you are getting the point. Now I have started reading newspaper. Getting myself updated with fresh bits. Every day!

But to my wonder, I feel more stupid and lost now. It's like my whole brain has become foggy and the thin path from where my thoughts usually travel are now full with question bumps. I am tired of searching for answers, trying to console myself that this is how it is. Yet the question reverts back more stubbornly, why so?

I won't talk about Mr.Obama's  lunch menu on his visit to India or our President's friendly visits to those unfriendly countries. I will talk about very local issues that happens around me.

1)Racism:
Was religion not enough to divide the country millions apart? Now it has come to race. Now a days you will see many silly incident where people are attacked just because they don't look exactly like the attacker. They have a flat nose and squinty eyes. They can't speak your mother tongue.  Yes! Those racial attacks. That brutal murder of young men who wanted bring revolution into our education. Tell me one thing. Where were you scoundrels when Mary Mom brought glory to our country. Where were your filthy mouth when Baichung Bhutia sweated in the ground to bring recognition to our country in the football leagues. You can cheer up Jackie Chan on screen. But the real life heros will be slaughtered. Go man! Get some humanity. I think you are the most ill bred person in this world. Go and jump off from some cliff. No one will even shed a drop of tear for you. Not even your mother.

2) Love campaign:
Another thing that adorns the front page everyday is two young college-kids kissing among a bunch of maniac cheering crowd. When I first saw it, I kept staring at it longer than I should have. There were two guys kissing each other,in the front page of a leading newspaper, sharing their boundless love., celebrating freedom. Kiss of love, they said, it was.And the only thing that worried me, do their family read the same newspaper I am read? If they do, then God save them from the humiliation. No! No! I am not against love or relationship. And I am morden too. But I can't even imagine to support such weird baseless things. Come on guys! Think. Use your brain. Do you think our society need this at this moment. I think it's sheer wastage of energy and time that will stir more chaos into an already dishelved society.

3)  Molestation Cases:
Last but not least disgusted, child molestation cases. It was around three months back that I heard about it for the first time. And almost suddenly something happened. It sprouted like a bunch mushrooms and for next every two days, it will be some school, some school teacher and some child who can't even spell molestation.

Be it a employee or a college student or a kindergarten, all the pages are botched with their names as victim of rapes. The recent being another rape in Delhi inside a cab. I won't go into those ridiculous details. If you haven't, then you must. It's really interesting. You will laugh your heart out at the irresponsibility of the Uber.

Well, about these three topics, have you noticed anything common? Let me help you. The common thing is that in a country of millions, why this is happening again and again. Isn't there any solution to stop this permanently? Instead kissing each other on road, can't we youth stand firm against all these issues? Okay. You did a commendable job in the Nirbhaya case. But all these promises made to you, are they kept? Has the situation changed a bit? Why that unapologetic co#$@cker still alive in this world after raping five girls? Is killing among each other just because they don't share similarity with you getting us anywhere? If you have an answer, then please guide.

P.S: This may sound really brash to some. But I defy to apology. I know I am not doing anything wrong. Your thought might contradict with mine. But you can't deny any of the above.

Meeting

She took out the finest and most elegant one of her wardrobe. It was a tailored black dress with fine lines of black sequins on the front that would have fell till her knee only if she could fit in there. Age has plumped her out. With Adele singing Someone Like You in the background, she sat together with the dress and sewing box and yanked out the stitches, careful enough not to ruin the material. It took her whole night to get the dress fit on her. She stared at her reflection on mirror, too long, watching the dress slowly settling along her skin.

At the break of dawn she started preparation. It was four hours of drive to the place and she didn’t want to be late. She had waited too long to forget what was that she was waiting for. No more wait. She was finally going to meet him.

The more time passed, the more distance she covered, the more anxiety and nervousness crept in her. How would it feel to wake up every morning with no more anticipation? For whose arrival would she be waiting upon every night, staring out of the window from an empty house? She clenched the steering wheel harder, trying to push these weird thoughts out of window and focus on the road. Did the trick work? It would have only if her lame mind was under her restraint.

Finally she reached there in time. The sun was still young in sky. Bird chirruped in unison. She parked her car in the lot. He palms were sweating. She took out the flowers form backseat, smoothed her dress, tucked the strand that had fallen from her tight bun, straightened her shoulder and silently marched towards the small gathering. The crowd tore apart upon her welcome, allowing her to grace the way. She put on a faint smile and walked towards him.

He was lying there, with a like always. She rested the flowers on him and sat next to him. It seemed age had reverse affect on him. He looked more calm and radiant.  She wished he would open his eyes and tell her how she looked in the dress. Fifteen years. For fifteen years she waited for him to come and talk to her. Every night of fifteen years, she wished that, it would be the last haunted night in her life, until two days back when she got this phone call. Finally a tear finally rolled down her cheek.

Everyone stood up in attention as the priest came upon. “It’s time my child,” The priest spoke politely to her. She just nodded, wiping the wet trail on her face.

Before leaving she laid kiss on his cheek and whispered, “See you again, My love. In that far land, beyond the restriction truths and lies, beyond the restrain of right and wrong, I will meet you there. Very soon. ” 

Heartfelt

He rushed into the classroom, afraid that he would lose the seat. But he was lucky. It was empty and he grabbed it before catching another breath. He sat there everyday, in the fourth row, second one from left in that east facing room. Winter evening breeze blew from those big windows at the back of the room. There was little time for the class to begin. The room had started to fill in with faces, hung out of boredom and tiredness as it was last class of the day. But he waited impatiently, his spine erect, trying to peek through the crowd. His eyes searched for only one face. Her face.

His best friend staggered in and took the vacant seat next to him.

“Come on dude! You are scaring the other kitten with that look!” His friend sniggered at him. For the umpteenth time. In the past also, his friend has tried to make him understand that the days are gone when you stare at a girl for hours and hours in classroom unable to speak your heart out, etch their names on the table, write anonymous love letters, still at the end the girl marries you. These days’ girls want hunks who come to their rescue, puncher down dozens of other guys on their way, sweep their darling off her feet and take them on long drive  in muscle cars. Guys with six pack abs and a height over six feet top the chart. Not the ones like him.

But he ignored his friend’s remark as always. He loved her truly but couldn’t gather courage to confess. He knew this wasn’t going anywhere yet he was too scared to talk to her. He thought what if she disgusts him and backs him off. And his friend’s words had worsen the situation, shook his confidence.

Class was about to start and still there was no trace of her. It was very unlikely of her. She was always punctual. She came with her friends and sat in the same seat in third row everyday. That made it real difficult for him. He had to come about twenty minutes before the class started, before everyone, just to sit here on the seat diagonally across hers. It was the safest place to watch her from, without any perturbation. To wonder over her angelic face and smile that could be muse to all the cosmeticians in the world. To keep staring at the blackish-brown thick strands of hair that tumbles down till the end of her back. They are so unbelievably smooth and shone like edge of silver sword. As on the last leg of day, when the room fills in with crimson-yellow aura and the far setting sun grins through window over that dark curtain of hair of hers. One would forget to breathe in moments like these. They are beyond beautiful. Ethereal.

Finally he spotted her coming towards the class. She walked in casually, with her friends.  Her head was covered with a multi-colored scarf. And she looked more of jovial, more of splendor, more of excitement and more of life. As if overnight she had grown wings. She laughed till her eyes squinted. Before slipping in her usual seat, her eyes met his for a fraction of seconds, and his heart stopped. For the first time it was any kind of reaction from him. Even though it could be just casual, but he didn’t care.

The class started, everyone settled in. His eyes were constantly on her, studying precisely as if she were a puzzle. She unknotted the scarf and loosened it over her shoulder.  And it was shatteringly shocking. He could not believe his eyes. The hair that he spoke of so fondly was not there anymore. It was shorn to a neat bob. Those butchered ends fell sharp next her jaw line in bunch. It drove him mad and angry. So much that he wanted to bang the desk off and run out of the room. How could anyone be so merciless to slash down such a beautiful thing? He wanted to go and shake an answer off her. But he waited patiently, gripping the edge of the table till the class was over and students started to leave the room.

As she got up with her friends to leave, he went over to her.

“Hey.” He spoke, fumbling out of nervousness.

“Hi” She smiled at him, her sweet smile.

He stood there, kept staring at her, unable to form words. The silence ensued. Their friends left them alone. Finally, she broke the awkwardness.

“You wanted to say something?”

“Hmm. Yeah. Hmm. New haircut? Good. Nice one.”

“Thanks.” Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“So. All of sudden. I mean it’s good but..” He didn’t know what to say next. His heart was aching. But he didn’t want to hurt her.

She watched him struggling with himself. He was so innocent. Like a child. It made her love him more.

“ Long hair was good. But demanded a lot of time. A lot more care.” She finished his sentence.

Not fair. He shook his head in disappointment. All the beautiful things needed time and care. Not a fair reason to slash them to death.

 “So I just cut them down and donated.”

The word caught his attention like the safety net in a free fall.

“Donated? I am sorry. I didn’t get you.”

“Well! It’s difficult to understand the partiality of the nature but there are many people in the world who are deprived of this beauty. It may be very trifle for people like us, just a matter of few months but there are people for whom it is priceless.”

Her words sounded more philosophical than his reach, confused him. But he didn’t interrupt her. She understood the ingoing turmoil inside him.

“There are few organizations who work over these issues, reach out to help these people, people who lost their hair  due to going through chemo, or suffering from diseases like  severe alopecia, trichotillomania, burns, accidents etc, etc. They take your hair, make wigs and brings smile to them. That simple.” She shrugged.

That simple? He thought.

He froze there. He doesn’t know what triggered what, how it initiated. Everything went blur and decelerated. It was like gravity shifted under his feet and time forgot to tick. Every step he took toward her was like taking a leap over one ocean. Five oceans on the earth, five steps till he reaches over, grabs her face and kisses her. Kisses her with all the adoration and love one can convey, trying to reach the inner beauty of her.

Now he was not afraid to speak anymore. Rather he was afraid that if he didn’t speak then he might lose her forever. The kindest soul and prettiest heart forever. The words came out by themselves.

“I loved you.” He said, tangled in her breath. “And I fell in more love with you after this moment. And I am still falling.”

She chuckled at him. “I knew. But it took six months of time, fourteen inch of my hair to make you confess. I expect you to fall little deeper for me, mister. So keep falling.” And with a mischievous she returned to their kiss again.

One of my adorable blogger friend donated her fourteen inch hair to an organisation called “Children With Hair Loss”. It is a big and commendable leap and needs lots of courage. Please do read her here. This post is in honor of her good deed.

It will rain

Image- Google image

When I give you my hand,
Hold it tight and walk out,
It will rain then,
All the odds despite,
Be it from heaven,
Or my eyes.

Sun will shine
Through the water
Moon will ripe out shy
Behind the tree of fruits unripe,
Just grab my hold baby,
And walk out.

Something for some lovely ones

I feel bad whenever I find how shameless I have grown on my place. Whenever I see that the good-manners have seeped out from me leaving me as an uncouth indecent chic, I can’t even look myself in eyes. Really, my embarrassment is no affectation. I really mean it and It is ripping my heart apart. And who do I have to cannon the blame this time?

My busy schedule? Oh! No. It will be a turgid lie.

Lack of enthusiasm? No. Not at all.

Health problems? Not that serious to be an issue (Just a minor food poisoning two days back due to having a coffee outside. Look at the delicate me! ).

Frustration of failures? It’s my fault that I can’t contain myself. It’s life. Okay! Be real!!

It’s purely the procrastination. You know what, I can be very useful in exhibition. They can put me under the label of “The moodiest Procrastinator of 21^st century”. Yeah! That will be really entertaining. I can see you smiling at the screen right now.

I don’t know. But I know sorry is not enough neither is thank you.

Still I owe you all both of these.

A big SORRY and even bigger THANK YOU.

You still haven’t got it. Right! Yeah! Yeah! I am very mis-talented(for me it’s mis not un) too.

A few months back Mr. Ajay Kontham(It’s his blog here.) had forwarded me a cute award. But for his sweet gesture, I even couldn’t say him a mere thanks. I simply put it in my to-do-list into the piles of chores that I have barely cared to finish ever.

Secondly, A few days back beautiful owner of this majestic blog Me  again forwarded me a blog award. Though I thanked her on her blog post’s comment section, still she deserves more than that.

So guys sorry for holding you till now. I know you, rational and sensible people have better work than looking forward to my shity blog. Still this is for both you and all the readers who stumble into my blog and take pain to actually go through it and suffer more for commenting. I love you all! You stay in my heart. Each of you. I swear on the name of Pizza Hut. (Huh! If I forget any name, Pizza Hut guys will be in trouble which I really don’t intend to do.)

And and and…my dear friends I have something for you. Hope you all will like it.

A Cake..?

It's here:

I know it's bit late but I had made this card that I could upload on Diwali. 

Happy Diwali to all! :)

Front door

Close the front door,

Walk with me to inside,

Hold my hand and walk this far,

Show me how you cook the love.

A secret hidden in your ribbed sheath,

Show it to me dear,

I will hush it down in my breath,

Fasten it with promises of your.

Soft and melting, shiny and deep down crispy,

How do you cook best love in the world,

Into tiny pieces with ends conic and heads curvy,

Dipping, kneading and foliating with sweet words.

Close the every way,

In that bowl painted mauve,

Everything you mix with such care,

Show me how you cook the love.

 

Image source- Google Image

Company

They sat there, under the torn palm leaves doing a poor job of covering their head.It was raining, not heavy though, just persistent one and in between the thick fog curtain and cloud chandeliers one can see the sun, wane and alone just a little bulb of phosphorus. He loosely held her hand in his. Her hand, chapped and callous of working over hours bare under heat and dirt. Vein were countable over the palm like some tunnels. But he was happy. She looked into his eyes. They were pale, in clutch of cataract. Wrinkles were as big as sand dunes spread over his face and getting lumpier whenever he gave her a toothy smile. He held her hand more tightly and brought it close to his chapped lips and kissed. She shied, shuddered with a thin fear what if somebody sees them like this. Of course there was a slim chance of that. No one cared to step out in such a cold rainy day, a beautiful chance for them to sit together again, just like fifty years before. If anyone says Life is too long, then they must be the most loveless persons in the world. Or else it has never been long for them, neither in sickness nor in destitution, neither in hunger nor in desire. Just nothing could tear them apart from their company.                                                                                      

My summer in YOU

It was dark and frigid,

So cold that body went rigid,

Reptiles leaned back and smirked,

In the thick night safety was disappeared.

I found you then there and then,

Cozying over the dirty den,

You came and clutched my hand,

From the monsters we ran away.

I found my summer in you,

I discovered the sun to new,

It felt so damn good,

We running to east in glee mood.

Steps toppling over rough stone,

 I am careless of the bleeding toe,

‘coz I find my summer in you,

Fresh, beautiful, earthy as morning dew.

 

Image Source-Google Image

My summer in YOU

It was dark and frigid,

So cold that body went rigid,

Reptiles leaned back and smirked,

In the thick night safety was disappeared.

I found you then there and then,

Cozying over the dirty den,

You came and clutched my hand,

From the monsters we ran away.

I found my summer in you,

I discovered the sun to new,

It felt so damn good,

We running to east in glee mood.

Steps toppling over rough stone,

 I am careless of the bleeding toe,

‘coz I find my summer in you,

Fresh, beautiful, earthy as morning dew.

 

Image Source-Google Image

DEAL

Don’t tell them the way you hold my hand,

Don’t tell them about the time we merrily spent,

(I)  Won’t tell how I love to get into your sleep,

Won’t tell it’s delicious to eat from your lips.

Don’t tell them you love to play with my curls,

Don’t tell them you get peace in my curves,

Won’t tell your smile is my favorite sight,

Won’t tell, for me your voice is sweetest delight.

Don’t tell with your eyes you make me blush,

Don’t tell how you became my deepest crush,

Won’t tell you are the magician for love-land,

Won’t tell forgetting you is a dream so distant.

Still you keep quiet, I keep quiet,

That’s the deal here you strike,

Even it tears us apart, flesh from bone,

We have next birth to come along.

TWO STARS AND A MOON-18

I didn’t know a part of mine was dying to believe it but then another part kept reminding about that grief-stricken period when I was left alone in middle as a convict.

I looked back at him. He was still faced to the wall, perhaps thoughtlessly gazing at the picture of mine. His persuasion was strong and sharp-shot just like a boomerang freed from its bow. It threatened to intrude through the thick wall I had bricked around me and shake my void core with that familiar yet strange vibration. I felt breathless. I felt breached. I felt pulverized.

Still I couldn’t take the risk. I just couldn’t. I grabbed Preeti by arm and dragged both of us out of there.

The whole way to home, I was lost in thoughts and by the time I reached I had no more brain to cudgel at anything. Even I toppled on way to my room. I straight fell to bed and lumped into a steady ball.

When my eyes opened hastily and tiredly looking out, my ear was trying to distinguish the high shatteering noise from somewhere. It was Mom shouting out my name. My panic legs jumped off the bed in reflex and I ran downstairs.

“What happened?” I asked trying to make my voice louder than the thumping heart.

“Preeti called home and said you have some of her note and not receiving her call.”

“Oh!” My panicked nerves relaxed.

“Hmm...get freshen up and come down. I will dish up your dinner.”

“Dinner? Is it so late?” I scratched my head ruffling my bedraggled hair to more unmanageable form .

“It’s already eleven.”

“What?”

She nodded wiping the kitchen counter.

“I’m not hungry, Mom. I’ll go to sleep again. I’m tired.” I drowsed over the fridge.

“Empty stomach will lead to fitful sleep. And again in the middle of night your grumpy stomach will grumble and you’ll have something cold from fridge. So it’s better to eat something hot and healthy now.”

I whined. The ache was still humming low inside brain.

“Okay. I will feed you today with my hands. Come now. No need to change.” She took out a plate from the utensil stack and served food. She fed me each and every morsel of food on plate despite my whining like a toothless toddler. My stomach was full and then only I was allowed to go to bed.

I rolled over the bed waiting for sleep to sedate me. My room was floating in semidarkness of orange night bulb. I rolled to my left then right and kept rolling till arms ached. Mom was wrong this time. Even if my stomach was filled, I was spared of sleep.

The things came again into mind. The undeniable questing of his eyes, the way his words pouted out those magical words; though at that time I deviated myself from him to Preeti but now in indefinite loneliness of my room I couldn’t hold over them. They were mincing my courage, macerating my hatred, rusting my steely will.

I laid still on my back and started to count the axes on the vaulted ceiling of my room. I counted and every time I forgot from where I had started and again I would start from the beginning. This continued for eight times when finally my eyes started to droop. I turned to my side, cuddling my red teddy smiled to sparse sleep.

My phone wailed then in two sharp cues. I didn’t want to check it. But then again it could be Preeti. Oh! She is such a night owl. Does she ever sleep? She would be worried of me.

I took out the phone from the gagging load under pillows. There were eighteen missed calls, all from Preeti and three messages. I entered into message box. The first message was from Preeti. “Hey ava. R u bzy? Cn I cm to ur house? We need to talk.”

The second message was from Preeti too. “Wass up gal. Y rnt u recivin d call. I m worrid. call bck asap.” 

And the third was from an unknown number. “I’m really sorry ava. I nvr meant to hurt U.  I nvr thot it could hurt u dis way. I knw I shudnt hav said U so. I’m really sorry. No force on U ever. Your wish is all that matters to me. Stay happyily. Won’t disturb U ever again. Sorry again.                                                                                               -Maddy”

The message was crucially heart melting one. Did he really have to do all this? Or all these were just a game that would end with a humiliation to me.

I typed another message. “I m fyn. Ws sleepn. Dnt wrry.” And sent it to Preeti. Should I message to Maddy too? Will he be worried? No! No need of it. I admonished myself from melting down.

In a minute another message reached. “ Thnk God. U r fyn. I m sry fr everything.”

I replied back. “It s fyn. Nt ur fault. u jst wntd me to b hppy.”

Then my phone rang. It was Preeti.

“Hey. Um..you are not sleeping yet.” I asked her.

“I was so worried about you.

“I’m fine. I was just very tired and slept straight after coming home. I was deeply sleeping that I didn’t know when you called.”

“It’s fine. You go to sleep now. You still sound tired. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay. Umm..Preeti. I need to tell you something. Wait a minute.” I forwarded the message of Maddy to Preeti. “ You check it. I thought you should know about it.”

Preeti remained silent for a minute. May be she was waiting for the message or reading it, I didn’t know.

“When did he send it?” She asked.

“Just two minutes back.”

“Actually I talked to him in the evening later that incident. He felt genuinely sorry. He really did not mean to hurt you. I have seen the exhilaration and excitement on his face while he was doing everything to arrange that place. He did most of the work alone. I have never seen anyone doing all these for any girl with so much dedication. Now also he is more worried about you, less about the failure of his hard work. I think he is serious. What do you think about him?”

“I don’t know. I mean..I just can’t decide. I don’t think I can rely on my instincts. They always fail me.”

“Okay. As he said it’s totally your decision and no one is going to force on you. But this time I agree with your instincts. I don’t know I think he really loves you.”

I sighed on those words. Now Preeti had tangled me more.

“I don’t know.” I had nothing else to say.

“Okay. Forget all these. Go to sleep. You need rest.”

“Hmm.. Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight. Hot dreams. And take care.” She cheered at the end.

After the call I again resumed my endeavour for sleep. But this time sleep evaded from me. The whole night passed without any sleep.