Hello guys :)
It's one of the short stories I wrote a long time ago which never really got posted due to some reasons. But it has been really close to my heart for the simple reason that it is so simple. Many of us while growing up harbour these over the top, elaborate fantasies about love and romantic gestures that can't really come true and we often go through the motions of life with a sense of disappointment and longing, a longing for some magic in our own lives, often skipping the little things our loved ones do for us. This story was written to remind myself, and everyone who reads it (however small that number might be) to appreciate those little things.
As Roald Dahl once said, "Those who don't believe in magic would never find it."
So, keep looking, just a little closer.
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Shraddha got up for yet another usual day of her usual, routine life. No, correction, Mrs. Shraddha Bakshi. The baggage of Mrs. Precisely defined what all her life was right now. Her beloved camera had been gradually replaced by the frying pans and other kitchen appliances, her precious pen, the special platinum edition Parker replaced by crayons and home work lists, her freedom and zest for discovering as much as she could, finding places still hidden from over exposure and exploitation by man replaced by the shackles of monotony brought by marriage and a settled conventional life. Although she sometimes longed to go back to that place, go back to being someone she was; yet she couldn't, rather, didn't dare to find the shadow of that girl in herself any longer. Seven years back she was Shradhha-the wanderer, the magician with words, the great story teller, the discoverer. Coming back to the present, she is a wife, a full time mom, and just another housewife in the city of twenty million people. Now thirty five years old, middle aged, and struggling with the monotonies that life traps people into, she often looked back at her past, almost in each waking day of her life.
Shraddha quickly set the water on the stove, preparing to make tea for her husband, Pranav, and hurried to wake up the kids for school, Sidhharth and Aabhas, the bundles of bliss she had with Pranav. Now, five years old, the twins were the reason of wonder and joy in her life. They were at a stage of inquisitiveness and endless questions, something which often marvelled Shraddha. Questions like, “Ma, why do I have just five toes, why not ten? I would have been able to walk faster.” or “Ma, why do girls wear these things in their ears (earrings)” had often brought an ear to ear grin on her face.
She gently shook them, and after futile attempts of calling their names to wake them up, she started tickling them, the only way which ever worked, and which made them spring up from their beds, laughing. She laughed too, the mirth of the kids only too infectious. After blowing kisses to them, she went off to the kitchen once again. The kids’ and Pranav’s lunch was still to be prepared. After toiling for an hour in the humid kitchen, she quickly set the table for breakfast. The kids wanted sandwiches, sprouted salad for Pranav. Pranav entered the dining room, talking to someone on the phone, presumably his boss; the work load was quite a lot now a days, he often told her. His bespectacled eyes were crinkling with humor, and after settling down, talking on the phone and simultaneously eating his breakfast, he got up to leave for office, calling out a precise good bye to his wife of seven years. She felt a pang of disappointment at him not having time to even properly saying good morning to her, or even good bye, and just like that she was brought down the memory lane.
She had met Pranav eight years ago, on her trip to cover the majestic fort of Chittorgarh. She was the reporter for Good Times Travel, covering the sprawling structure, and he was just another tourist, coming to be awed by the beautiful fortress, like thousands earlier had. He looked like just another next door guy, with reasonable looks. She had stumbled towards him, while trying to find the perfect shot to capture the magnificence of the fort. She had looked at Pranav in surprise and agitation alike, for being interrupted from her thoughts, and instead of apologizing, she had reprimanded him saying he had interrupted her sightseeing tour while he simply kept looking at her, his eyes crinkling with mirth and said in the sincerest of voice, “But you just gave me the most enthralling sight I have seen in my life.” And just like that she doubled up in laughter, simultaneously taken aback and amazed by the man standing next to her. There was something in his eyes, the subtle intelligence, or the way they crinkled, she had no idea, but for a split second, she forgot everything around her. And that is how it happened, their first conversation, which lasted for eight hours, at the end of which he surprised her once again, by telling her he loved her. And she was taken aback once again. Who fell in love with a person within just eight hours! But the more she thought about it, the more tempted she was to reciprocate his feelings. Maybe it was the magic of the place, or maybe it was his eyes which crinkled with mirth, or maybe simply the beauty of the sunset before them, but she was more and more convinced by the second that she was falling in love with this unassuming yet the most interesting man she had ever met. It wasn't that she hadn't been in love before, she had had her fair share of romances, but this was different than anything she had ever known. She had a feeling he was the man for her, the one who she could see herself settling with. And she had been right, they had been married within an year of knowing each other, even though it was too soon for today’s times. But she had not told her she was in love with him too, no, she was not so easily attainable. She bade him goodbye and kissed him on the cheek, saying she hoped she would see him soon. And she had, right after two months of their first encounter in Chittorgarh. She had just returned from her trip of the splendid Iguazu Falls of Brazil, her second overseas assignment, and their he was, standing right in front of the door of her apartment, with a bouquet of white roses in his hand, and she had no idea how he had managed to get her address or what was he doing there. She just ran upto him, saying that she loved him too. And just like that, they were married, and what a splendid union of two people it was. They were a perfect match, he matched her passion, intelligence and intensity like no one ever could. They were different in many ways too, she was impulsive, impatient, ambitious, while he was calm, laid back and easy going. But the differences only just complemented them more than ever. The love was boundless, and they were happy, in both their respective lives, as well as together. Then the twins happened and Shraddha resigned from her job, deciding to do free lancing instead, in order to be closer to home. And just like that, in a spur of adjustments to make their marriage work, take care of the kids and work to earn a living, the passion, the excitement, the intensity was lost. Shraddha let out a long sigh, and came back to the present, the kids needed to be dropped to the school, and then she had other things to do for the day, the cleaning, the maid had taken an off, yet again; buying groceries, giving clothes for laundry, reading that book on parenting, and all the things she had thought she would never do.
She dropped off the kids, waving good bye to them and reversed the car around. The cleaning was calling her. Far off, in the corner of the street, she saw a little girl playing with a bunch of balloons with her dog, and thought what a beautiful picture that would make. Yet again, she had another pang of loss in her heart. Shraddha had come to Mumbai from Varanasi fifteen years ago at the young age of twenty, with dreams in her eyes, but not much money in her pocket, like millions of others. And the city had welcomed her with open arms. She had her fair share of challenges initially, in finding a job, of her liking and moreover which paid decently enough for her to sustain in the city. But her grit, intelligence, determination and hard work along with her exquisite looks had worked in her favor and she had soon moved up the ranks from an office boy doing petty jobs to the Good Times travel host. She loved her job, seeing the enthralling, enchanting places, summarizing up her experience, clicking great pictures for herself on the way, everything was way more than she could ever ask for. Then, when she thought life couldn’t be better, she met Pranav, and she had never been happier. And the kids took her happiness to just another level. But sometimes she wished for more, things which brought out her passion, her flame which even though latent, was not not extinguished yet.
Shradhha had just finished with the laundry, and was about to go for her half an hour nap when her phone rang. She checked the caller ID, it was Pranav. She looked at the clock. Four o’ clock, there were still five hours before he returned home and the kids were not due to be picked for yet another half hour. Pranav didn’t call to talk when he was in office either, what could be the matter then? She picked up the phone, confused and said an uncertain Hello into the speaker. Pranav replied curtly, not even bothering with the greetings. “Meet me in the coffee shop where we had our first date in about half an hour. Don’t bother about the kids, I’ll pick them.” and with just this statement, he cut the call, giving her no time to ask for an explanation for his strange behaviour. She complied as told, and rushed towards the café, Coffees and More. It was right in front of the old apartment she lived in, and served the best coffee she had ever had. Pranav had her brought her there for their first date and she had smiled, saying it was her favourite café in the whole world, and he smiled, saying he knew that. And she had fallen in love with him even more, if that was even possible. Going back to the café brought many bittersweet memories back to her, and she smiled, opening the door of the café. Her smile was quickly replaced by a gasp, and she dropped her purse, looking all around the café with just one emotion playing in her mind, surprise. The whole café had been done in red and white balloons and scented candles, and in the middle of it all was Pranav, standing on one knee in front of her. He smiled, and she still was confused, and he smiled again. “Shraddha, I love you.”
She replied back hastily and was about to ask a million questions about the whole scene in front of her when he shut her up, by placing his finger gently on her lip, and she was transfixed, an emotion she had felt after a really long time.
“I love you, I really do. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, I have always known it is only you. But somewhere along the way, we became so busy in handling our marriage and the responsibilities that it brought that we forgot to make time for each other, we forgot to show each other how much we mean to each other. You have made me the happiest man in this world by loving me back, and giving me this amazing life we have together. But somewhere along the way, you sacrificed too much, gave up your dreams to build ours, and I somehow turned a blind eye to it.” she wiped back a stray tear and he squeezed her hand tight, “Here is a surprise for you. Arnabh, Sidhharth!” He called out their children who were hiding behind the chairs. Both the boys came running towards their mother and she welcomed them in a warm teary embrace. The boys brought a shabbily wrapped package to her and she opened it with excitement. Inside was a brand new camera with a note “to the world’s best mom” written on its side. She laughed, hugging the boys even tighter. Pranav hurried to her to hug her, and she felt the warmth spreading inside her, her flame, her light.
And then again, right in the middle of an ordinay day, life gave her a fairytale.
It's one of the short stories I wrote a long time ago which never really got posted due to some reasons. But it has been really close to my heart for the simple reason that it is so simple. Many of us while growing up harbour these over the top, elaborate fantasies about love and romantic gestures that can't really come true and we often go through the motions of life with a sense of disappointment and longing, a longing for some magic in our own lives, often skipping the little things our loved ones do for us. This story was written to remind myself, and everyone who reads it (however small that number might be) to appreciate those little things.
As Roald Dahl once said, "Those who don't believe in magic would never find it."
So, keep looking, just a little closer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shraddha got up for yet another usual day of her usual, routine life. No, correction, Mrs. Shraddha Bakshi. The baggage of Mrs. Precisely defined what all her life was right now. Her beloved camera had been gradually replaced by the frying pans and other kitchen appliances, her precious pen, the special platinum edition Parker replaced by crayons and home work lists, her freedom and zest for discovering as much as she could, finding places still hidden from over exposure and exploitation by man replaced by the shackles of monotony brought by marriage and a settled conventional life. Although she sometimes longed to go back to that place, go back to being someone she was; yet she couldn't, rather, didn't dare to find the shadow of that girl in herself any longer. Seven years back she was Shradhha-the wanderer, the magician with words, the great story teller, the discoverer. Coming back to the present, she is a wife, a full time mom, and just another housewife in the city of twenty million people. Now thirty five years old, middle aged, and struggling with the monotonies that life traps people into, she often looked back at her past, almost in each waking day of her life.
Shraddha quickly set the water on the stove, preparing to make tea for her husband, Pranav, and hurried to wake up the kids for school, Sidhharth and Aabhas, the bundles of bliss she had with Pranav. Now, five years old, the twins were the reason of wonder and joy in her life. They were at a stage of inquisitiveness and endless questions, something which often marvelled Shraddha. Questions like, “Ma, why do I have just five toes, why not ten? I would have been able to walk faster.” or “Ma, why do girls wear these things in their ears (earrings)” had often brought an ear to ear grin on her face.
She gently shook them, and after futile attempts of calling their names to wake them up, she started tickling them, the only way which ever worked, and which made them spring up from their beds, laughing. She laughed too, the mirth of the kids only too infectious. After blowing kisses to them, she went off to the kitchen once again. The kids’ and Pranav’s lunch was still to be prepared. After toiling for an hour in the humid kitchen, she quickly set the table for breakfast. The kids wanted sandwiches, sprouted salad for Pranav. Pranav entered the dining room, talking to someone on the phone, presumably his boss; the work load was quite a lot now a days, he often told her. His bespectacled eyes were crinkling with humor, and after settling down, talking on the phone and simultaneously eating his breakfast, he got up to leave for office, calling out a precise good bye to his wife of seven years. She felt a pang of disappointment at him not having time to even properly saying good morning to her, or even good bye, and just like that she was brought down the memory lane.
She had met Pranav eight years ago, on her trip to cover the majestic fort of Chittorgarh. She was the reporter for Good Times Travel, covering the sprawling structure, and he was just another tourist, coming to be awed by the beautiful fortress, like thousands earlier had. He looked like just another next door guy, with reasonable looks. She had stumbled towards him, while trying to find the perfect shot to capture the magnificence of the fort. She had looked at Pranav in surprise and agitation alike, for being interrupted from her thoughts, and instead of apologizing, she had reprimanded him saying he had interrupted her sightseeing tour while he simply kept looking at her, his eyes crinkling with mirth and said in the sincerest of voice, “But you just gave me the most enthralling sight I have seen in my life.” And just like that she doubled up in laughter, simultaneously taken aback and amazed by the man standing next to her. There was something in his eyes, the subtle intelligence, or the way they crinkled, she had no idea, but for a split second, she forgot everything around her. And that is how it happened, their first conversation, which lasted for eight hours, at the end of which he surprised her once again, by telling her he loved her. And she was taken aback once again. Who fell in love with a person within just eight hours! But the more she thought about it, the more tempted she was to reciprocate his feelings. Maybe it was the magic of the place, or maybe it was his eyes which crinkled with mirth, or maybe simply the beauty of the sunset before them, but she was more and more convinced by the second that she was falling in love with this unassuming yet the most interesting man she had ever met. It wasn't that she hadn't been in love before, she had had her fair share of romances, but this was different than anything she had ever known. She had a feeling he was the man for her, the one who she could see herself settling with. And she had been right, they had been married within an year of knowing each other, even though it was too soon for today’s times. But she had not told her she was in love with him too, no, she was not so easily attainable. She bade him goodbye and kissed him on the cheek, saying she hoped she would see him soon. And she had, right after two months of their first encounter in Chittorgarh. She had just returned from her trip of the splendid Iguazu Falls of Brazil, her second overseas assignment, and their he was, standing right in front of the door of her apartment, with a bouquet of white roses in his hand, and she had no idea how he had managed to get her address or what was he doing there. She just ran upto him, saying that she loved him too. And just like that, they were married, and what a splendid union of two people it was. They were a perfect match, he matched her passion, intelligence and intensity like no one ever could. They were different in many ways too, she was impulsive, impatient, ambitious, while he was calm, laid back and easy going. But the differences only just complemented them more than ever. The love was boundless, and they were happy, in both their respective lives, as well as together. Then the twins happened and Shraddha resigned from her job, deciding to do free lancing instead, in order to be closer to home. And just like that, in a spur of adjustments to make their marriage work, take care of the kids and work to earn a living, the passion, the excitement, the intensity was lost. Shraddha let out a long sigh, and came back to the present, the kids needed to be dropped to the school, and then she had other things to do for the day, the cleaning, the maid had taken an off, yet again; buying groceries, giving clothes for laundry, reading that book on parenting, and all the things she had thought she would never do.
She dropped off the kids, waving good bye to them and reversed the car around. The cleaning was calling her. Far off, in the corner of the street, she saw a little girl playing with a bunch of balloons with her dog, and thought what a beautiful picture that would make. Yet again, she had another pang of loss in her heart. Shraddha had come to Mumbai from Varanasi fifteen years ago at the young age of twenty, with dreams in her eyes, but not much money in her pocket, like millions of others. And the city had welcomed her with open arms. She had her fair share of challenges initially, in finding a job, of her liking and moreover which paid decently enough for her to sustain in the city. But her grit, intelligence, determination and hard work along with her exquisite looks had worked in her favor and she had soon moved up the ranks from an office boy doing petty jobs to the Good Times travel host. She loved her job, seeing the enthralling, enchanting places, summarizing up her experience, clicking great pictures for herself on the way, everything was way more than she could ever ask for. Then, when she thought life couldn’t be better, she met Pranav, and she had never been happier. And the kids took her happiness to just another level. But sometimes she wished for more, things which brought out her passion, her flame which even though latent, was not not extinguished yet.
Shradhha had just finished with the laundry, and was about to go for her half an hour nap when her phone rang. She checked the caller ID, it was Pranav. She looked at the clock. Four o’ clock, there were still five hours before he returned home and the kids were not due to be picked for yet another half hour. Pranav didn’t call to talk when he was in office either, what could be the matter then? She picked up the phone, confused and said an uncertain Hello into the speaker. Pranav replied curtly, not even bothering with the greetings. “Meet me in the coffee shop where we had our first date in about half an hour. Don’t bother about the kids, I’ll pick them.” and with just this statement, he cut the call, giving her no time to ask for an explanation for his strange behaviour. She complied as told, and rushed towards the café, Coffees and More. It was right in front of the old apartment she lived in, and served the best coffee she had ever had. Pranav had her brought her there for their first date and she had smiled, saying it was her favourite café in the whole world, and he smiled, saying he knew that. And she had fallen in love with him even more, if that was even possible. Going back to the café brought many bittersweet memories back to her, and she smiled, opening the door of the café. Her smile was quickly replaced by a gasp, and she dropped her purse, looking all around the café with just one emotion playing in her mind, surprise. The whole café had been done in red and white balloons and scented candles, and in the middle of it all was Pranav, standing on one knee in front of her. He smiled, and she still was confused, and he smiled again. “Shraddha, I love you.”
She replied back hastily and was about to ask a million questions about the whole scene in front of her when he shut her up, by placing his finger gently on her lip, and she was transfixed, an emotion she had felt after a really long time.
“I love you, I really do. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, I have always known it is only you. But somewhere along the way, we became so busy in handling our marriage and the responsibilities that it brought that we forgot to make time for each other, we forgot to show each other how much we mean to each other. You have made me the happiest man in this world by loving me back, and giving me this amazing life we have together. But somewhere along the way, you sacrificed too much, gave up your dreams to build ours, and I somehow turned a blind eye to it.” she wiped back a stray tear and he squeezed her hand tight, “Here is a surprise for you. Arnabh, Sidhharth!” He called out their children who were hiding behind the chairs. Both the boys came running towards their mother and she welcomed them in a warm teary embrace. The boys brought a shabbily wrapped package to her and she opened it with excitement. Inside was a brand new camera with a note “to the world’s best mom” written on its side. She laughed, hugging the boys even tighter. Pranav hurried to her to hug her, and she felt the warmth spreading inside her, her flame, her light.
And then again, right in the middle of an ordinay day, life gave her a fairytale.
It is very nicely written.
ReplyDeleteSimple yet portrayed heavy emotions about a life.