Battle..

They have been silent for over two minutes now.. both holding onto the phone waiting for the other person to say something....
She knows he will ask, "Dont you have anything to say?".. And if she says no.. he will say, "Fine." and hang up... most probably without saying, "Bye"..
She could beat him to it.. She could be the one to ask, "Dont you have anything to say?".. and it would be his problem.. to say "No" and be the reason for the end of the conversation.. or to come up with something to say and acknowledge that he needs it to continue....
It shouldn't be difficult for two people like them to come up with something to say.. But the routine is such, that after the two minutes of the 'I-dont-care-to-say-anything' silence, inorder to continue the conversation, you must let go of all pride and acknowledge that continuing the conversation is important to you even if it isnt for the other person.. and in that lies the deflating of the ego which built up over the two minutes of silently wondering who will be the first to ask the question...
"Dont you have anything to say?" he wins.
"No" .. she wins.
"Fine." he hangs up.. (and yes.. wins)

Vacation..

Here's a picture that I took while I was there..

















Here's what I couldn't take pictures of..
1. mummy's cooking
2. green apples
3. grapefruit juice
4. laughter
5. blissful sleep


I want to go back :(

Closest..

'Hey, tell me something..' she said,' and only one thing thats really close to your heart.. closest.. can be a person also.'

And I felt happy... that somebody wanted to know.
I thought of the people that I love.... and I couldn't make up my mind... And yet I wanted to come up with something that wouldn't disappoint this person.. this person who made me happy because she wanted to know something about me.

So I thought.. of the e-mails my brother writes me.. of songs that make me happy.. of home.. my mom's cooking.. my father walking around with his glass of scotch.. a bunch of unsent letters to a teenage crush.. of late night phone conversations .. early morning scooter rides when the whole city is asleep... of just being allowed to be myself and being loved.. I went on a trip thinking.. and felt good about all the things that I held close to my heart.. and then deciding that none of my thoughts were good enough, for the 'closest thing'... I kept thinking...

I finally told her,that if I were to think of a person that I held close to my heart, there are four that I cannot choose from.. And I cannot think of a 'thing' that would ever compare to them.. I knew it wasn't an impressive answer, but atleast it was honest..

I asked her what her answer would be.. And she said, 'My dreams are the closest to my heart.. I can't pick people or things.. All my dreams are the closest to my heart..'

And I smiled, impressed... but still happy that she had asked me...

Just Friends..

They're just friends.
Even though most love songs remind him of her...

A thought..

When I was in college, I used to pray every morning.. and I had this perfect prayer worked out.. with no loopholes.. It covered everything...I prayed for 'long, happy , healthy' lives for my family, and that I would die before any of them.. And then I had one line for each of them.. Generally covering their health, what they dreamed for and wishing something nice for them. Then there were friends who needed to get placed, backs cleared, a CAT aspirant who i wished would get into IIM A, B or C or anywhere else that God thought would be perfect for him. Then for myself.. that I wouldn't get caught sleeping in class, that i wouldn't be asked any questions and generally that sessionals would go well, exams would be cleared and that I would never disappoint my parents. And after all this I'd put in a line for the 'general good of humanity'.. whatever that implied. I thought it was perfect.. my perfect prayer with no loopholes.. That if I protect the tiny world around me with prayers everything would be fine.. And I know there are times when things don't really work out and there's disappointment.. But I was better off that way.. I realize now that praying everyday is something that I learnt and left in college.. With sessionals and placements and getting caught sleeping in class and so many things to worry about, it was something I needed.. And somehow now, its taken a back seat... I have stopped praying everyday.. its sort of sad to admit this.. but I forget!.. Its as if I have settled into some complacent little routine where I've stopped worrying about things other than what to wear.. or whether the meter on the rick is showing exactly 25 rupees to get till office.. or whether I'll be able to deliver the code.. Thats it.. and none of that calls for daily prayer.. But I should still be praying for my family.. and I convince myself that my mom does enough of it to compensate for me.. So that leaves me with just once in a while emergency-prayers for when somebody wants something real bad or is worried about something.. And I don't know where this is taking me, but I've just settled into it and I cant seem to break out of it.. and its beginning to worry me.. :)

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.

----------------

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

Let go..

Yesterday he asked me how she's doing. I said I don't know... I wish I'd bothered to find out.. atleast so I'd have something to tell him when he asked me..
But then.. I never thought he'd ask me.
I used to wish she'd just let go of him.. Yesterday I wished she hadn't.
I wish he hadn't let her.