Believe it or not...

Someone I know once went to drop off his girlfriend at the railway station.
They held hands ALL THE TIME and since they didn't have much to talk about, they concentrated on, and perfected, the art of looking at each other dreamily, like a pair of love-sick cows.. I mean doves. So anyways, story is, they were at the railway station and he was supposed to see her off. They were holding hands as usual. He didn't want to let go. So he took another ticket and travelled all the way to Kottayam (65 km away) because he couldn't 'bear' to let go..
Aaaah Love!.... * puke *

P.S.:All characters and events portrayed are fictional. Any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental, but if you know what i'm talking about, then Hey! How are you? See I wrote a post about you.. :)

WHAT???

Seriously.. WHAAA.. ?!?

She ask, me write 2

G doesn't think this is as good. But still...

She ask : You haven't spoken to your best friend Jalajasri for nearly two years. Do you remember what caused the rift between the two of you?

My take :

"New School !" they told me. "English medium!" , "ICSE !" , "Quality" , "Standard".. I heard them say.."New friends," They tried to convince me.. I would love it.. They were sure.. And I did not. I hated it. A class of 23 snotty 12 year olds who gave me one look and collectively dismissed me.. for wearing two plaits folded up with dark blue ribbon, for wearing my anklets over my socks, for smelling like coconut oil, and for bringing curd rice for lunch instead of cheese sandwiches. Being ignored.. For a whole month. They wouldn't look at me if I stood in their path, not that I dared to. I hated it. I hated the school. I hated them and I had begun to hate myself.
Until Jalajasri talked to me.
After a month in that horrible class, she smiled at me, and we walked home together that day, holding hands. She was kind. She didn't care what the other girls thought. She liked me the way I was, not that I knew very well.. We could talk about anything.. We had nicknames for all the snotty girls in class.. We rolled our eyes imitating them and burst out laughing.. I was finally happy. She was my best friend, my confidante, my sister almost, the best thing that had happened to me. I didn't feel miserable anymore.
Then they caught us whispering in class. I remember how the teacher stared at us, and the whole class turned to look at the two of us.. in the back bench.. "Atleast they were looking at me, finally!", I whispered to her once class resumed. I don't know whether they heard me again, coz they all stopped and stared again. The teacher looked upset when I refused to tell her who I was talking to.. As if I would betray my best friend!
Then Papa took me to the doctor. I think they thought I was mad. They said she was imaginary! Jalajasri! As if I was stupid! I don't know when I stopped talking to her.. I think it was the night Amma held me to her chest and sobbed. I didn't want her to cry. She made me promise I wouldn't talk to Jalajasri. Ever.

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She ask, me write

"Okay, here's the idea," she said. "I ask you a question and you write a short story explaining it."
And everybody's attempt would be a 'take' in the comments box...

She ask:She knew he wouldn't approve. So why did Visalakshi go ahead and do it anyway?

and
'my take':

She watched with her chin in her palm, elbow resting on the table, as her mother-in-law gobbled up her dinner noisily. Visalakshi was used to this. She would eat up everything drenched in buttermilk, tilt the plate and slurp up what was left, wipe the plate clean with her fingers, lick each one of them, sit back in her chair and burp loudly. Then she would make a face at Visa, tell her there was too much salt or too less or something and walk off leaving a mess at the table. Then she had to be read to and finally her feet massaged till she fell asleep. And she took forever to fall asleep, nagging and complaining about every thing that fell in front of her myopic eyes. She had heard it a million times and could almost... almost tune it out. Except when the old lady started off about how Venky should have agreed to marry his uncle's daughter Mythili, and how much better off they would have all been if that match had worked out!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!! They had been married 6 years and they had two kids and the old lady was still thinking about his marriage proposals. Nobody and nothing was good enough for her and her precious catch of a son!! Every time Venky's mother came to stay with them, Visalakshi would be walking a tight rope, gritting her teeth, being 'polite', 'civil', 'respectful', slaving away at the kitchen to feed the old woman's enormous appetite, cleaning up after her, washing her clothes and massaging her legs forever. The kids steered clear of their mother, stifling their laughter when she threw them warning looks.

As she wiped the table clean, she heard her mother-in-law call her, and she rolled her eyes at the hours of feet massaging that would undoubtedly ensue. She sat on the floor rubbing Tiger balm onto those hated legs, tuned in reluctantly now and then to hear the name 'Mythili' and songs of her glory, and felt miserable at the thought that there was no way out of this. Every now and then, she would come for her 'visit' and things would be the same, if not worse. To get away, just once, and have Venky do this instead of her. That'd be a dream!

She heard her snore and got up, ran to the bedroom, packed two bags; one for her, one for the kids. As she stood in front of the mirror, combing her hair in a hurry.. She paused and practised her lines...
" Hello Venky? I had a call from home.. Amma is not feeling well.. I have to go right away.. I'm taking the kids.. Vacation time no.. so its ok.. I've called the maid from nextdoor.. She'll stay with your mother till you come.. Yes.. I know.. You might have to take leave while she's here.. But .. you understand right?"

He might not approve.. But what the hell .. She grinned.

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P.S.: In the excitement of finally having a 'take', I forgot that she'd asked to keep it short. :D