What a friend means

You know how sometimes you maybe friends, and I mean really great friends with someone for a really long time and I mean really long, say 7 odd years? And how you became friends in the first place thanks to your blog and hers? But you never get a chance to meet until recently when your friend comes by to town and you have her over for a sleepover and man you realise how and why you've been such good friends all this time.

It's like it is with my other best pal, my husband, more or less.

She was every bit as curious to see my home, all the little corners and nooks, my fridge was her own, she wondered where my books were kept, she came up and met my mom in law and pop in law, giggled with me at my ever late for work hubby, miraculously got my dog Maya to fall in utter desperate love with her, watched horror movies with me, drank several glasses of fruity Himachali wine with me, thoroughly relished the homemade pizzas I'd made for dinner, watched my wedding videos and poked fun when and where I would have, enjoyed watching me tell her who I liked and who I despised and I felt so free and unencumbered unlike how it usually is when entertaining.

She was here, my buddy, my soul sister and the only one other than my mom and Nikhil who love and accept me as I am and for all my gazillion flaws...see the best in me. What a refreshing change from people for whom no matter what you do or how lovingly or how much, nothings ever good enough, and you're always judged in the wrong way. 

We met through her blog and mine when I replied to one of her blog posts. We maybe different in a lot of ways as you can see from visiting her blog link and then mine but...the hearts are the same. Unapologetically crazy. She is extremely intelligent and sure to be a famous author one day not too far down the line. The extremely intelligent part of her is what drew me to for a friendship with her and it is part of what still continues to sustain it. However now it matters very little to me, I think if when we're old and she/I are senile, we will still be tight/

I gave her a nice batch of hazelnut chocolate truffles I'd whipped up while she slept, a book by Monica Ali that I wanted her to read and a silly pretty but useless (like she wanted) sand art souvenier from Dubai. Went to her place, met her mom in law, sis in law who insisted that my hubby come inside and have some coffee and bong sweets which were unlike anything I've ever had so far. She made us feel at home and welcome and showed us a Bong wedding tradition whereby a fish is dressed up like a bride and sent to the bride's home for good luck. There's Amrita posing with the fish :)
Something she doesn't know. The day after she left I was extremely grumpy and when my mom started asking me why I couldn't help but tell her I was just sad she left. :'( such is life.

Stuff I truly believe with all my heart and soul

There a few things I am a strongly believe in. As often as possible I do them, and I'll keep doing them consciously till they become a way of life :-)
... I believe ... :

- We must be kind....regardless of whether we recieve it back or not
-We must be polite...regardless of whether the person we're talking to is or not
-We must help others...regardless of whether they help us back or not
-We must work for the greater good...for helping those who no one else wants to, for healing hurts, for reducing sorrow, for enriching the lives of others,for doing good stuff :-)
-We must pursue knowledge or how to better ourselves, our mental and spiritual reserves, for doing more God's work
-The truly wise, don't go about flaunting their wisdom.Nor do they make others feel inadequate.
-True wisdom comes with time, not by listening to lectures.
-True wisdom is never derived
-True wisdom needs no master,just an open mind
-True wisdom means knowing we know nothing
-True wisdom preaches not
-God is in us. Yes even in our bosses, whether we see it or not
-Everyone's good.
-God is in the little things. the sun the moon the rain the birds the kindnesses the compassion...the flowers dancing the stars twinkling
-Happiness lies in the small little things. someone calling to ask how you're doing...someone showing they care...the rain tapping on the window, a perfect cup of tea, a patient getting better, a baby laughing :)
-Show you care.Everyone in the world is having a hard time.Show then that you're there.
-Words matter...No one's a mind reader. The right words have the power to make or break a person. To make someone climb down the ledge or jump off it.
-Love deeply
-Be generous.
-don't let those younger to you pay!
-Show some compassion...any and everyone needs it
-Give everyone respect, regardless of whether you think they deserve it or not
-Don't shout at anyone, it is demeaning and painful
-Read a lot...about anything you're interested in.
-Lend a helping hand
-Stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves.
-Never put another person's likes/dislikes/hopes/dreams down.
-Never act like you're better than anyone...no matter who you are, you're not.
-Be fair
-Expect nothing
-Just do,just give
-Take joy in other's smiles
-Never let anyone cry alone, regardless of what they say
-It's not by how many cars you have or expensive perfumes you own or branded clothes you wear that you matter. Thats just temporary...what matters is who did you help? Who did you go out of your way for? Did you help someone who you know cannot help you back? In anyway ? Mark of a person is his/her character. His/her habits.His/her compassion for the less fortunate.
-Don't boast about other's accomplishments as if they were you're own...its sad
-Be kind to animals
-Be extra nice to old people. They usually feel redundant.

Thats it for now folks.

Uski Rukhsati

Uski Rukhsati.

PROLOGUE :

"Still no movements from the baby?", I asked the would be mother at 8 months of gestation.

"No, and the doctor before you said the heartbeat is getting slow also...whats going to happen? Am I going to have surgery?", asked the 27yr old primi [first time pregnancy] anxiously.

We shall call her Zarin.

"Let me see, but don't get scared, don't worry till we have to because your worrying is bad for the baby ok?",I cajoled.

"Ok but you see please...and please check my Blood Pressure...the nurse was here earlier and she told me it was 160/100mmHg and I am ok...I feel fine so I don't see how my B.P would go so high. Please doctor...?"

"I will do all that and more, but I want to give you ten minutes to calm down first ok? Now, fold your knees to relax your abdomen and I'll just check your baby's heartbeat ok?"

As I had trust issues, even with high tech machines like the CardioTocograph [fetal heartbeat monitor] I listened to and counted the fetal heart beat myself with the aid of my trusty stethoscope. The baby's heartbeat was there but lower, slower. Nowhere near the healthy 140 beats per minute it should have been and lesser than the previous night's 120 bpm. Now it was only around 100-105 bpm, something requiring immediate Caesarean section to deliver the baby but at eight months and suffering from IUGR [Intra Uterine Growth Retardation] would it survive? Not here for sure, it weighed only 1485 grams and the ideal weight for full term babies is more than 2.5kgs. Plus the reason for the IUGR had not been diagnosed yet, but we were to send Zarin for specialized ultrasonography in the morning.

She and her husband seemed so nice. She tried to lighten the mood, make conversation... "Are you married Doctor?"

"Oh no Zarin. Not now and I don't know when because I'm just not ready!", even the thought of marriage freaks me out completely.

"Why?? Ohhh You have someone don't you??", she squealed excitedly.

"Yeah...I do..."

"How long??"

"Five years."

"And you still don't want to marry him?? Why not?"

"It's not that I don't want to marry him...I do love him and will probably marry him one day eventually. But I want to be sure of him. I don't know if he can't live without me. I know I feel empty without him but I have career goals and so does he. We're happy now...free and still comitted, you getting me? B.P's ok Zarin, nothing for you to worry about. 140/90mmHg, sleep will help lower it further and we'll give you something for your anxiety ok? "

"I think it already must be true...or else you wouldn't be with him for so long would you? Plus men aren't as expressive about their feelings as women are...but once you are married and leave him even for a few days...he will call you to come back! My husband did...!"

"I don't know Zarin. But when I do get married I will find you and tell you how it worked out ok? Now get some rest. I'll be here all night and will come hourly to check on you and your baby. You know the drill, you feel anything bad you call me stat ok?"

"Ok, thank you doctor! Good night!" One couldn't stay detached from a patient like that. A person like that...

****************************************************************************************************

8:00AM

"Prep the patient, get the OT nurse, Room 4 patient needs an urgent LSCS [Lower Segment Caesarean Section] baby will be shifted to Fortics NICU [Neonatal intensive care unit.]."

It was the end of my shift and as I said goodbye to Zarin and wished her the best for her surgery, I wondered how it would go. Turned out the baby was very sick with a chromosomal defect. Generally with these kind of major genetic defects, the fetus is spontaneously aborted three months into gestation, but this pregnancy continued too far. The spaces in the baby's body were filled with fluid as we had found out on the ultrasound that morning. Brain cavity, abdomen, chest, lungs. There was kidney failure added to all that. Chances were slim, for survival. But we had to try our best.

8:00PM

As I relieved the evening shift doctor I asked him anxiously about Zarin and her baby.
"He was born alive, but didn't cry. There was a huge swelling on the right side of his chest. He didn't cry...so he was intubated and put on a ventilator and taken to the NICU. He lived till around 4:00 PM. Then he went. Mother is fine, depressed but physically ok."

"Crying?"

"No.Just lying there."

" So there I stood, out side Room Number 4, with my hand on the door handle, my heart racing and my face burning. What would I say to this lady? I knew nothing I said could comfort her. I didn't know how to start.

Step forward.
Step back.
Step forward.
And enter.

"Hey Zarin, how are you doing?", I said with a dull smile.

"Oh hello doctor...I am ... ok...how are you?", she responded with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"I'm ok. Let me examine you just a moment..." Physically she was fine.

"Ok...any pain...in your... abdomen?"

"I can't feel that pain Doctor. Mere dil mein itna dard ho raha hai. ", she replied, sadly.

"I...know, I heard. I'm so sorry for your loss. What...if you would like to talk...what happened?", I ventured cautiously, knowing she hadn't cried but needed to. She was quiet for a few minutes. I took a seat next to her.

"Do you think it was my fault?", she asked quietly.

"NO. Why would you think that...?!", I replied aghast... This was the last thing she needed on her mind.

"The nurse in Kashmir said that something was wrong internally. Meri saas ko lagta hai ki shaadi se pehle hi mere mein koi problem thi, koi defect...now she is regretting her son's marriage to me."

"Your Saas needs to go out and educate herself. And you need to quit bothering about what an illiterate woman lets out of her mouth. Aap toh padhe likhe ho, you know better. Don't let her get to you. Abhi aapko yeh sab nahi sochna, abhi aapko bus theek hona hai. Samjhe?", I was incensed on Zarin's behalf.

As if daughter in laws didn't already have to hard enough. Working to keep everyone happy including the husband. With everyone ready to misunderstand her and sulk at the drop of a hat. Including the husband.

"Maine dekha tha usko. Ladka tha na...meri shakal thi, poori. Ussey bahar le ja rahey they, toh dekha tha maine uska chehra. Woh dekh raha tha mujhe. Maine dekha. Maine dekha...."

I reached out quietly and gently rubbed her back, before she started to get passionate.

"Din bhar woh Us doosre hospital mein tha na...NICU mein. Mere husband they uskey saath. Main baar baar soch rahi thi, phone kar rahi thi...ki kya hua, kaise hai...kareeb 3:50pm pe mere husband yahaan aaye...bataye ki mere bachche mein kitne tube aur pipe lagaein hain, uski kidney bhi fail ho gayi hai, uske sir mein, pet mein, chaati mein paani bhar gaya hai. Apne aap woh saans bhi nahi le pa raha hai. Mujhe, pata nahi kya hua....humein laga tha ki shayad bahar aayega duniya mein toh khuda ko manzoor hoga uska jeena...par aisa lag nahi raha tha...", her voice cracked, as did her composure...

I sat silently, watching her face, my hand on her back, trying fultilely to sooth her...

"Main apne aapa kho baithi aur maine bola...maine bola...ki agar khuda ko manzoor nahi hai uski zindagi toh kyon zabardasti usko tadpa rahe ho? Kyon itne pipe, itne tube, itne machine? Azaad kar do usko, in bandishon se buri kar do ussey...chale jaane do usey...usey jahaan khushi milti hai...mujhse nahi dekha jaata aise... phir 5 minute baad hospital se phone aaya ki woh mar gaya. M-Mera bachcha mar gaya...Aisa laga jaise woh mere liye ruka tha...Duniya se apni rukhsati ke liye meri izazat ki raah dekh raha tha...Ab samajh mein aaya ki maa aur bete ka kya rishta hota hai...ab samajh mein aaya mujhe...", she finished, sobbing into my Lab coat.

And try as I did I couldn't stop the tears burning my own eyes and overflowing. I couldn't stop them and so I cried, albeit quietly, as I held her and helped her cry. I let her cry and didn't tell her to stop. Most unprofessional of me on many counts but she was alone. Her husband wasn't around...

"Maine dekha bhi nahi usko...usko husband ne dafna bhi diya hai...mujhe dekh lena chahiye tha...mera husband bahut ro rahey they...abhi woh ghar gaye hain, bahut dukhi hain."

"Haan...shayad aapko dekh lena chahiye tha... Lekin aapne toh dekha haina...aapne toh uski aakhon mein dekha hai...jab woh tha, zinda tha...vaise hi yaad rakhiye.", I said..trying to console her. But my words sounded hollow and empty to my own ears. I knew there was nothing I could say that would help. I had done all I could.

I didn't have a child. But I had my dog. She and I were buddies and she was the reason I was able to live alone, in a city like Delhi. She was the one who came to me when I was sad, she was the one who waited for me to come home from work everyday. She was not just a dog for me, she was my little girl, my baby and I knew I wouldn't last a day without her. When she was sick I couldn't sleep. I know the analogy is poor, but I love my dog no less than I love the members of my family. That is something they don't understand really and it no longer matters. Point is...I would shatter if anything happened to my little one.

That Zarin was still alive and breathing in and out...seemed miraculous to me.

She had been given a tranquilizer, but it had not kicked in. She cried and somewhere along the way she fell asleep in my arms. I dared not move. Why wake her and bring her back to this living nightmare? Sleep was better. I don't know how long I held her. I don't know how long I cried for her. I should have been used to this by now. I was usually so detached...from such situations but she seemed alone and so lost. My conscience didn't permit me to leave her.

The next morning she was better, having tea. Upon hearing my shift was ending she started to cry again. I left her my Mobile number and home address, again completely against protocol but at this point she didn't need a doctor. She needed someone to talk to.

She was discharged that morning.

I left for home.

********************************************************************************** EPILOGUE:

That night I went to bed with tears in my eyes.

I went to bed because I couldn't stop those tears and there was no one in my life who would understand those tears. I couldn't understand them. Couldn't stop them.

I dreamt I had a baby girl, with my boyfriend's big, kind, chocolate caramel, round eyes and my thick black eyelashes. I don't remember her face as clearly now, but I still see her eyes, her lashes.

I knew my dream would fade, in hours or days. I would forget I had such a dream, had a baby. But mine was a dream...

Could she? Forget that glimpse, that sliver of her baby's face, his eyes?

I would pray for her. Pray she had many, many beautiful, healthy babies...so this one would seem like a faraway dream in some long lost time.

fin

Do you Believe in heaven?

"Do you believe in heaven honey?"

"Sure...Not sure what it is exactly though..."

"What's your idea of heaven?"

"Hmm...I think it's where we are at peace after we die you know? A place of justice, joy and rest after all this toil on earth. What about you sweety? I know You wouldn't ask unless your non stop working mind already had an answer ready..."

"Silly man. Silly but smart. Yeah...I've been thinking about it awhile...", I was lost in thought again...

"Lost world...tell me...", he said squeezing me gently.

"Well...I think heaven is moments..."

"Moments?"

"Yeah...like this moment...When we're in each other's arms, at peace with each other and talking about heaven."

"ok...and...go on...", he prodded.

"It's when I apologize to my father for yelling at him, tell him I love him and never ever meant to hurt him...and him saying it's ok...just think before you get angry or shout next time."

"You apologized? I'm so proud. Thank you. " He said kissing my cheek.

"Well it was easier over googletalk...", I grimaced, ashamed of myself.

"Still...it's always hard admitting one is wrong. I know you can't live without your parents talking to you. What else...heaven I mean..."

"Well...there's raindrops tapping on my window...or watching a stormy sea with the rain creating ripples in the green blue water..."

"Sounds heavenly..."

"Add some hot coffee and conversation to it..."

"Yum..."

"You eating so much, and so heartily...whatever I cook for you...that you have to undo your jean's button..."

"Well you rock the kitchen!"

"Only for you babe. And mom and my sister too...Dad doesn't notice so much..."

"Tell me more..."

"Well there's the times my sister talks to me like we used to before time, age, ego and people came between us. When she hugs me if I'm crying or takes my side because no one else is getting me... when we're sister's again...those moments."

Squeeze squeeze squeeze. "She'll come around...she loves you too..."

"It's when you say the right things at the right time...which is not often...but eventually you do...and those moments make me feel everything is going to be fine, instantly."

"I know...sometimes I don't get what to say when...I'm sorry hon."

"But when you do say something, later, you're right."

"You're just biased. You get angry and now you say you like it."

"Well you're real...you're not smooth, you're human."

"What else?"

"I think it's heavenly that there's someone on earth I actually trust. And I know...I've taken forever to...get down to it...Longer than most people do...but I trust you...and you've proved yourself...time and again..."

"You are a toughie..."

"I think it's heavenly that even if you don't understand my point of view about something, you listen, you try...as do I...I think it's amazing that we think alike on so many points...and I think we have enough difference to keep the relationship lively.'

"You must be referring to our fights!"

"Well yeah...and I think the part when we make up...that's heavenly too."

"Go on..."

"I think it's heaven when a patient comes in severe pain, in the middle of the night and I give them medication, and literally watch their pain disappear...and their amazement...that moment when they feel relief is heavenly..."

"Always the doctor...my chubby doc."

"I think it's heavenly when my dog greets me at the door every morning...or the way she looks into my eyes with pure love...and loyalty. I love how , when I'm around , she doesn't listen to anyone else...doesn't have eyes like anyone else..."

"Hey I do that too...but discreetly!"

"I know...those moments I catch you looking at me...heaven...You asking me to make you my perfect tea...heaven...you drinking it, looking at me, nodding to indicate it's good...heaven. Honey...my point is...heaven is right here...all around us...!! We just miss it..."

"I wish I was as good at expressing my thoughts as you. How did you end up with a lallu like me?"

"You may not be as good at words, but you are part of my heaven...You are my heaven."

For the Children Of alchoholics.

Of late, there have been around me, increasing stories of alchoholics and their marriages to ordinary, naive, stupid, smitten women who don't have an ounce of common sense. Maybe their brains cease to function and that is why they cannot see beyond these smooth talking people.

My better half pointed out to me, that generally I'm a tolerant, polite, nice person who tries her hardest to see and show the best in people, Even in people I dislike. He and I were both surprised and stunned at my vehemence regarding alchoholics and addicts. He is against them being involved with a family member too...but not as violently as I am. He asked me if they weren't human? Didn't they too deserve happiness? A family?

I was baffled at my intolerance. After many, many conversations regarding this topic it turned out there was a damn good reason for my anger at addicts.

In my psychiatry posting in college, I admitted many addicts. Not one of these came of their own accord. Not one Admitted to a problem. Half of them had undergone deaddiction programmes before and currently relapsed, half of the rest were new and the other half referred from another hospital. Ask any of them the standard question of "what seems to be the problem that brought you here?" and there was a standard reply, " Nothing. These people think I have a problem, I'm totally fine."

These people were their family. Wives, children, parents, relatives. Who had seen enough and tolerated enough and tried enough on their own. Beaten up wives and messed up children. Broken homes, broken hearts, shattered souls
An estimated 6.6 million children under the age of 18 years live in households with at least one alcoholic parent. For more alchoholism related statistics go here.

They are human beings. No doubt. But they are ill. Ill in a way that, 95% of the time, they cannot help. Literally cannot help. Addiction is a sickness. Even a drop of alchohol after a Deaddiction programme, is enough for a relapse. They cannot help it, they don't know how to stop.

And while that doesn't make Alchoholics and addicts less human, they are still adults. It is their problem. If another man/woman falls in love with them, believes their claims which range as follows :

I only drink occasionally now.
Even one peg goes straight to my head and makes me drunk.
I have strong will power.
I will stop it for you.
I have stopped because of you.
Beer doesn't do anything.
I will change after marriage.
It's only because i'm lonely.
and etc.

...if other men/women are stupid enough to believe them because they are lonely, they want to feel loved, or feel they can "save" an addict or the addict is otherwise handsome/beautiful/charming/rich/qualified/smart etc...if these people are blinded in infatuation so much so they are willing to marry these addicts and live with them thats ok too.

What is not ok then?

It's not ok, when these people, this couple, decides to have children.
They have no right...when they are so messed and unsure of their own selves...that they don't know when they will relapse next...they have no right to bring innocent children into this world.
Two adults getting married is by choice. They can undo it, get divorced if the addict turns into a beater or abuser or relapses.
But children do not get a choice. They do not get to choose the family they are born into. They have to live with the consequences, with an addict as a parent.
The world is hard enough to live in as it is. Even with normal, well balanced parents...it is a hard life. Imagine how much worse it is with one or more parent who is messed up. Who are unstable themselves. How can they provide any semblance of stability for their kids?

To read about the suffering of children of addicts and alchoholics please go here.
http://alcoholism.about.com/library/blnapsi021222.htm

Children are innocent and extremely sensitive creatures. They are dependent on us, their parents. To give birth to one, to make a baby, another human life...is an enormous responsibility. A grave responsibilty. A decision that cannot be taken in a giggly, romantic moment. Carelessly. They trust us with their lives.

How can we betray them by bringing them into this world when we are so messed up ourselves? When we cannot guarantee that we won't touch a drop of booze or snort a line of coke or shoot something up our arms.

If a woman marries someone who is an alchoholic/ex alchoholic/relapsed/addict/ex addict/someone making smooth but probably false promises/still trying to recover/ etc etc...just for her own selfish reasons, imagined love or infatuation, then they have successfully taken the first step towards being a terrible mother.

If an addict, a known addict, even an ex addict with relapses etc, agrees to father a child...he is on his way to becoming a bad father.

The children of addicts don't respect their parents. Either of them. They grow up hostile and insecure among other things. They have a high chance of drug abuse themselves, apart from depression and social issues. They have few friends or many, many friends. They spend their lives dealing with these issues. Female children often end up marrying a man in their alchoholic father's image. In India Divorce is still Taboo. SO what then? They think children will solve the problem. So they reproduce.

Read more about the whole issue here.

There are no guarantees in life. Normal people may become addicts after marriage.
But tell me something...
Isn't there a huge difference, between choosing to marry someone you KNOW has a problem and marrying someone whose problems you know nothing of. After marriage their issues may come as a shocker.
But to knowingly "jump into a well?"...
How can a person do that?

The adults I don't give a damn about. They deserve their fate, they made their choices. But their unborn or soon to be born kids have no say whatsoever. They wouldn't make such a lousy choice. One that will fuck up the rest of their lives.

More about alchoholic's kids here.

Addicts are experts at deception. Experts. Smooth liars. They have to be. It's upto you to be wary.



Afterword: It makes my heart and mind sick. And since I couldn't sleep thinking about this, I blogged. And cried. For all those little children. The huge gap between posts was because I couldn't bring myself to write anything else. I had to get this out. I don't mean to offend anyone. I admire the addicts who remain clean. I know the courage it takes. Not everyone can do it. Thats the trouble.

This is how I love.

Dedicated to the Stuart Little in my life.
[With all of the love a little Margalo is capable of.]


I love you so
that Tears in your eyes
cause mine
to blur too.

When you light up
and drag the smoke deep
My lungs turn to coal
my chest tightens too.

A harsh word from you
that cold shoulder?
breaks my tiny heart,
slaps my crestfallen face.

We meet when you please,
It hurts to have no say,
waiting is agony,
our time e'er constrained.

When I'm second place,
my feelings runners up,
To be less of a burden,
I know why your back aches.

I listen to you simply
because what makes you happy,
is always above all,
my joy lies in your laughter.

Haven't you realised yet?
I notice what matters to you,
your opinions mean the world
I listen, I notice, I do.

I yearn for a hug,
a loving look,
a playful nudge,
footsie under the table.

When you spend a penny,
it pinches my wallet.
When you have a cold,
its my nose that sniffles.

When you stand up for me,
I feel less alone.
When life is a burden,
you make me whole.

Your sleepless nights,
cause shadows 'neath my eyes.
Your troubled days,
leave me in great distress.

For me you are foremost,
what makes you happy
above me,my ego and pride.
Don't you see it yet?

Am I not worthy of
more than stolen moments?
Am I not to be put,
first, above all,sometimes?

I do not fear you dying,
your breath and mine are one,
I need not love you more
After you pass on.

I know you don't know why,
Maybe I will tell you
When your heart beats it's last,
mine stops ticking too.

ToTaLLy TabOo Part - 5

NIMISH & RAJAT :

"Dude. I think my wife's having an affair.", mumbled Rajat.

"Why the fuck do you guys marry women if you can't be bothered to keep them happy?", yelled Nimish in the gym.

"What do you mean you guys, who else do you know who has...?", Rajat couldn't finish the sentence.

"It doesn't matter, the point is...if shes crying because of you, then you don't deserve to have her because you're not taking care of her. If she is so unhappy she is cheating on you, then it usually means you've stopped treating her the way she deserves to be treated and she is with someone else because that someone else is being nicer to her than you are.", explained Nimish now losing patience.

"What can I do now?", Rajat was nearly begging now.

"DUH. Win her back. You've done it before. Do it again. You can't stop treating her like shes special just because you're now married! Is that why you married her? So you don't have to keep up the courtship? So you've 'captured' the chick? I'm guessing there was a time she was the most important person in the world to you. God's special gift, sent to make life worth living. Isn't she anymore? Has being your 'wife' somehow made her less important? Less special somehow because she agreed to marry an ass like you? You know what, you're right, she deserves better... most Indian wives do, for that matter. ", Nimish was growing more passionate in his speech delivery by the minute.
He felt like slapping Rajat. Another asshole. Who'd rather spend time at the fucking gym than in bed with his wife. And then they complain about unfaithfulness.

"Besides, marriage is not all about providing material things for each other. Her cooking and washing your clothes or you fixing the washing machine when its acting up. ", continued Nimish.

"Oh and you know all about marriage do you? Never having been in one gives you a LOT of experience. Just like those people who have no kids but know best how to raise them...", retaliated Rajat, a bit bruised.

"No. There's a reason I don't want to get married. It's people like you. Who change so dramatically post marriage their own wives don't want to be with them any longer. Why should I drive some woman to despair? Once you get married, you take each other totally for granted. You stop holding hands or hugging or walking with your arms around each other's waists because of what society may say. You think of every tom dick and harry's flow of thought but you never once stop to think...that these little touches may mean the world to her. It's other people's cheap mindset that you care about. I've seen this happen so often....its pathetic. Grow a pair for God's sake. ", elucidated Nimish.

Rajat felt like someone had slapped him. Nimish's words struck a blow, and he felt like the air was sucked out of his very lungs. Nim may as well have been talking about him. But he couldn't help being shy. And he knew the cheap mindset of people. They'd call his wife a cheap slut! Especially these oldies. There was no way he could bear that. His girlfriend turned wife...deserved respect. One of the reasons Rajat never spoke about P to anyone of his own accord...for one thing it felt like showing off...for another...not everyone treated women with respect. ' Oh lucky dude...its been awhile since I got laid myself.' was an example for instance. He'd been serious about P from day one. Marriage serious. Not all guys were that way...they usually looked out to pass their time till their mummy chose a girl for them. At least he had had the balls to marry his girlfriend no matter what his family said. He loved her, that was all the mattered.

"Woo her dude. Its not so hard...girls...they're pretty predictable...just talk to her, show her you care...be her best friend again. That's how it started out didn't it? Figure out where you went wrong. Take her out for dates, make love, oh yeah...don't forget flowers...give her a break from housework. Get her thoughful presents.", Nimish advised trying to be helpful.

"I haven't the time to woo a girl! I work ten hours a day!", Rajat complained.

" No one's got time. You have to make time for the one's you love. Don't you WANT to make time for her? Or you can just sit and watch her leave you. physically or emotionally. Speaking of which...when was the last time you made love? I mean really made love. Not wham bam Thank you Ma'am. Or took her out for a movie? Or dinner? you just let life get to you. You'd rather sit and sweat in the gym when you could be burning 300 odd calories in an hour in bed with your wife? Are you demented? Or just ignorant?", continued Nim.

"Food for thought. It's not that I don't want to make love. We used to be very passionate...I just don't know when...why...we drifted apart. We're always tired. And now...I don't dare. I don't want...I haven't looked into her eyes, directly, for a great many months. I'm scared.", mused Rajat loudly.

"Scared...or guilty? You don't want to see anger, or accusation or...indifference. But you have to look into her eyes...bearing love. The more love you give someone, unconditionally, the more love you recieve inevitably. One of the reasons I'm guessing people get married is because there will be that one person, at the very least, in this big, bad. often unfair and unkind world... who is there for us, who will protect us and not just physically, at any given time from the hard knocks life has to offer. You have to be there to make sure she's well supported. No matter how angry or upset you may be yourself...isn't that how the one's we love are different from the other general population?"

"Hmm...But what if she cries ALL the Live Long Day!!??", grumbled Rajat. "Then you talk to her. Find out why, find out what's bothering her. Take her to a psychiatrist...get some counselling. Depression is not a small thing, nor is it untreatable. But medications alone will not help. She'll need a lot of TLC. That part is upto you. ", Nimish gently counselled.

Depression was an up and coming illness, unfortunately it was quite taboo as it required going to a psychiatrist. But the treatments these days were good. He knew because after his father's death, his mother suffered from severe depression. Today she was hale and hearty...and as happy as it was possible to be, without one's heart, that is.

"TLC?", queried Rajat...feeling supremely ignorant. "Tender, Loving Care.", elaborated Nimish.

"But what about the other guy?", Rajat asked, plucking up the courage.

"What about him? What's he done? Treated your wife better than you have? Is that so bad?", asked Nimish...now wary. And slightly guilty.

"If I knew who he was, I'd kill him. He stole my wife from me!!! And you're defending him?", asked Rajat, temper flaring.

"No. I'm not. But if he reached out to a woman in intense pain, if he is alleviating her grief, if he is making her realise she was indeed special, if he could bring a smile to her face and a twinkle in her eyes, if he is the reason for the spring in her step, the one who never lets a teardrop fall from her eyes, if he's the one doing all the little yet the most important things one human being can do for another...all the things YOU should never have stopped doing, can you hate him? If you truly love your wife, can you hate the one person who is a ray of sunshine in her otherwise bleak world?", Nimish justified, a bit guilty.

He felt sorry for Rajat...but knowing him, he could imagine how both he and his wife must be feeling. He wished Rajat well and hoped he would take heed now, sooner rather than later.

Meanwhile...

TLC it would be...Rajat promised himself.

Totally TaBoO Part-4

RAJAT :

The night Rajat came home and found Preksha missing was easily the scariest night of his life. There was no note, no indication of where she may have been. All he could find was a glass of half finished booze and a couple of sleeping pills. He rushed to the telephone and pressed redial. It was answered by the nurse on casualty duty at the nearby hospital. He asked if Preksha was there...and rushed over.

"Shes ok, she'll live, but shes shaken. We had to pump her stomach and that is a very stressful procedure, not just for the stomach. She'll be a bit woozy from whatever pills have taken effect but she will be fine eventually. All she needs is TLC. That and time and rest. And probably...a..um...Psychiatry consult...No need to think of it as a Taboo...," The Doctor rushed to explain seeing the mildly shocked expression on Rajat's face. " Sometimes we have problems and feelings we cannot deal with...if there's someone, who is far more experienced than ourselves, who can help us with our problems...its smart to get help. ", continued the Doctor.

TLC? What was that? It was probably on the prescription pad...the chemist would know for sure. He took Preksha home. They never talked about it. He didn't ask why and she didn't offer an explanation. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. She had stop thinking of him as her best friend long ago.

The next day she seemed cheerful. Neater, cleaner, more like her old self.

He always felt she was unhappy because of him. He spent one year trying to get her to fall in love with him...He always wondered if she felt she'd compromised in choosing him as a mate. She was so much better than him in so many ways. The day he convinced her to marry him, seemed like the best day of his life...correction, the day she married him was the best, he felt he could rest easy now. Breathe, heave a sigh of relief. Be himself...and not the modern version of Romeo that he'd become. He loved her, now they were together and wouldn't be apart for the next seven lifetimes...and if they kept repeating the same vows then for the rest of their rebirths! Ha!

He was not a romantically expressive guy. She was his first girlfriend. And his last. He was not unfaithful to her. He really loved her with all his heart. He just didn't know how to show it in any new ways anymore. He was all for giving her beautiful flowers, taking her on dates, making love till they were exhausted and couldn't keep their eyes open and their bodies were limp and relaxed...He did all he could to make her happy. But sometimes when they were out in public, and she took his hand, or linked her arm through his, he was uncomfortable. You never knew who would be watching. When they were in a group too, he never sat close to her, or touched her in anyway, or talked to her in a way that could be considered anything but friendly. No hint of the passion they shared in bed. It always upset her. She didn't understand his reticence. His extreme shyness. He wasn't half as bold as she was. Besides, what was the need to show the world what they meant to one another? What did the world care anyway? It didn't make a difference to him what couples world over were doing to each other in public.

Things changed after marriage. Managing a job, the house, their life...family...all got to him at the end of the day when he felt exhausted. And unable to stomach her statements of loneliness. Not that she mentioned it to him anymore. What was to be lonely about...? He hadn't gone anywhere had he? He wasn't leaving her for someone else, he wasn't cheating on her, he managed their finances well, he didn't curb her or restrict her in any way, certainly he didn't hit her! What did she want? He sometimes felt he had failed her. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew how big she was on integrity, he'd be worried about her leaving him.

She was a good wife. No doubt. Attentive to his every little need. Cooking food as per his tastes, tolerating his fussy nature, packing his tiffin. He had never asked her if she took a tiffin to work. He had no idea. She took care of his clothes, his family and his home. Of him. Laid out his clothes everyday for work, his shorts when he came home. Gave him his meds when he was sick, made his chicken soup when he had a cold, wiped his nose, cleaned his vomit. He brought home the groceries, the vegetables, set the table for dinner, helped with the cleaning, They had an equal marriage. The zing, the passion had diminished.

Didn't that happen eventually anyway? In any marriage?

He often worked weekends too and in any case, she was always either asleep or in the bathroom. He yearned for her touch, but now, sometimes, he was afraid of her. He was worried of touching her, only to see...withdrawal. He seemed to have caused too much pain. Let too many tears fall without making an effort to wipe them off. It was her, all her, why did she cry so damn much? Her tears caused him unbearable pain initially, but later...now...they only annoyed him. His heart seemed to have gone cold. There was a time when he heard her cry, he cried too. He used to catch her tears before they fell.

Now he just ignored them. Ignored her.

Of course he did hate himself later. For a bit. A short bit. What was the point then anyway? His harshness would only aggravate her sadness. He never knew the right thing to say at the right time. If you can't help something, don't aggravate it.

Of late she was happy. She was cheerful, even though he didn't get to see much of it being busy at work and even on weekends.

There were flowers at home. He didn't get them. She said she bought them to add a dash of colour to the house.

She hummed.

Rajat knew it wasn't him.

Was he losing her?

To whom?

Did it even matter? The whom? The where, when, how many times... what difference did it make anymore?

It was the why, that needed looking into.

He thought she couldn't live without him. turned out she had started a whole new life without him. She would leave him, not only far behind but for good. Could he live without her?

He hadn't considered it so far. Should he?

Could he win her back?

TotaLLy TaBoO Paaart- 3

NIMISH:

Everytime Preksha smiled, his heart jumped for joy. He knew she was married and thought her husband was an insensitive asshole. How could any man bear to see, or even see, let alone be the cause of...those lovely eyes sad.

When Preksha was sad, or happy, you could see it in her eyes. Anything she was feeling, was clearly there for everyone to see. She never really bothered to hide her feelings, probably not the best thing to do or the most tactful. But she was honest. And it was just as well no one really bothered looking into anyone's eyes anymore. Those eyes could speak volumes and he could read forever. Sometimes, words were not needed. When he first saw her, in the office, there were no fireworks. There were no songbirds chirping around his head or violins stringing their songs.

Truth be told, He didn't even take a second look.

It was only a few months into the job, that he noticed her. She was always, always alone.

She ate her lunch alone, took her coffee break alone, she rarely talked to anyone regarding anything outside of work. And her eyes, behind her glasses, were sad. Flirt he maybe, in the office...but it never went beyond that. She wore shapeless clothes, designed to camouflage her figure. There was always something wrong about her person. A stain on her dress, a button missing, an old pair of shoes, never any jewellery. Sometimes she wouldn't comb her hair. She had lovely hair, a stunning mass of thick black waves which she never left loose. Once he chanced to see it when he entered the coffee room. She had unpinned it and was massaging her temples and nursing a cup of espresso...and obviously a terrible headache. Somedays she would wear the same outfit two days running. And then one day, he noticed her crying. The entire time she was at work. No one noticed. She didn't bawl like a baby, but it was just, quiet tears. Drip, drip. Wipe. Drip and discreet wipe. She never wore makeup so smudging it was not a problem. She spent two hours out of eight in the coffee room. Crying. When he asked her if she was OK, she didn't answer. She had never looked this sad in all those months. He was worried. It didn't matter to him that no one else noticed. The world was callous. He wondered what could be so wrong...maybe a fight with her husband...correction, a huge fight. She looked low everyday anyway. He wondered what would help.

Perhaps a flower.

A daisy...they were so cheerful. Bright yellow centres, bound to make you smile. A note, telling her to be happy. At least she would know someone was there to talk to.

She came back the next day. They became friends. And then a month later, more.

It was two months later that she told him, his small gesture had saved her life. Literally.

She took much better care of herself now. Always well dressed, polished, more importantly, bearing a smile that reached her eyes. She stunned the office the next day...she had been hiding behind a wall, afraid of looking good...being her best. And no one cared to see beyond her fine features. No one saw beyond the obvious, beyond sometimes...flashy.

Turned out she was all that too! Who knew?!

He loved taking care of her. Sharing his lunch with her. Eating her delicious lunch. She was an excellent cook, there was no doubting that. Getting her coffee, taking walk breaks. Being her friend. Bringing her back to life.

He wondered how her fool of her husband failed to notice the death of their marriage...how little he cared...? What could be more important than putting a smile on the face of your beloved? Putting money in your bank account? Which was more important, more essential to life...? Food on one's plate, or joy in one's heart? What was the point of a full belly and tearful eyes? The combination makes life worthless.

When he took her out on dates, and just took her hand, her eyes glowed with happiness. It seemed all she wanted, was an acknowledgement, that she was loved...perhaps it was that acknowledgement that had gone out of her marriage. Often happened. She spoke about her husband, but never mentioned his name. That would have brought him to life, as if he wasn't a glaring light in their relationship as it was.

She spoke of him in a remniscent manner, as if he was no more. In a sense, He wasn't. He wasn't the man she'd married. Or the one she'd fallen in love with. Or the one who promised never to be the cause of a tear in her eye. Or the one who promised to take care of all her problems, anything that fell into her lap. The one who promised never to take her for granted or try to change her. Never to restrict her in anyway. To listen to any and everything she said. It was another thing that she didn't say much.

"Har koi pyaar ke liye bhookha hota hai, usey jahaan bhi pyar milta hai, chala jaata hai." [Everyone is hungry for love, whereever they get it, they go.]

That was the only reasonable excuse to justify what they were doing. Their relationship. What it was worth, was something only they knew and understood. They didn't feel the need to justify themselves to anyone. There was no point. She had no friends and he...well he did have a few close friends...only one of whom was married...a gym buddy of sorts. He'd never met his wife...he talked about her a lot, but never took up Nimish's suggestions for a get together...maybe he was embarassed by her...maybe she was fat or ugly... Even he didn't know. Nimish wondered why marriages went this way...perhaps he would ask Rajat.

ToTaLLy TabOo. Part - 1

Totally Taboo. A short story I wrote, in 7 parts. Something I'd like to share. Your opinions mean everything to me, and I hope you'll oblige, by reading...I'm trying to make it in short pieces, so it's easier to read through quickly.



PREKSHA :

Preksha wondered how she let it happen. It was so not like her, in fact, it was one of the things she held in severe contempt. Extramarital affairs of course. It just felt good.

To be treated like a queen. To be wined and dined like a lady. To be thought of as someone to be "won" over as opposed to a doormat, or a tail. She had become quieter in her marriage of 2 years. 4 years if you counted courtship. People said love marriages didn't work out and she was starting to believe these people. Whoever they were.

She gave her hair one last brush, checked her reflection in the mirror next to the door, put on her thousand buck shoes and stepped out into the sunshine. She had a movie date. Nimish was waiting for her at the multiplex and had already bought the tickets, Preksha was nearly late.

Nimish liked to take her on dates, even though they were both in their early thirties. They behaved like two teenagers as they greeted each other with hugs and squeezes. The minute the theatre lights were dimmed, Nimish gently took hold of her hand. leaned close to her ear and whispered, " You look beautiful. I really missed you." Preksha smiled to herself. Noticing how she looked, was just one of the things keeping her with Nimish. That and the fact that he missed her. With Rajat she wondered if he would even realise she was gone.

From their house, from his life, from their almirah, from their bed. The bed.

She had left that a long time ago. He was just too busy to notice. To realise that she was purposely asleep before he got into bed...or else she was feigning sleep. If nothing else, she would linger too long in the bathroom, waiting till she could hear his even, steady, deep breaths indicating he was asleep. Sex, if it every chanced to occur, was perfunctionary. No longer was it the prolonged lovemaking of their courtship, where they couldn't wait for a chance to be alone, they couldn't get their hands off each other. A thigh, a breast, an arm, a cheek, a shoulder...as long as one part of their body was touching one part of the other's, their hunger was temporarily sated. Till they reached their bedroom and would ravish each other in earnest, unabashed, not ashamed of their fierce hunger.

No more.

Nimish always bought her flowers. It could be a single red rose, or five carnations, or a beautiful bunch of dahlias, or a boquet of lilies. They met just once a week. Twice if lucky. She seemed to live for these days and yet they left her feeling guilty and wistful. Why had Rajat changed? When had he stopped seeing her as a woman with needs, with desires and with hunger? Why was she out with someone else? Who was this man holding her hands like they were flowers? Why was she laughing at this movie with this man? why was she letting this man touch her?

Which was the greater wrong? Nimish touching her body? Nimish touching her heart? Preksha enjoying his touch? Wanting it as much as she needed to breathe?Either way. she wanted him. He had brought her back to life. Literally. But that was another story.

Another day.

HoNeYmOoN TrAvELs And MoRe!

Awhile ago, the BF and I were out for dinner with friends. Single, unmarried friends. As always, the talk turned to marriage [I know, I'm full of it right now.] and the partial loss of individual freedom that comes as a downside to married life. They each said they wanted to do things, visit places before they got "Tied Down."

I remember feeling that way. Especially since the only tourist spots I've been to ever, is Hong Kong and that too since Dad was posted there and we were given 3 months school vacation due to the gulf war. [1989]. And a 5 day trip to Kerala in college. My better half has been around with his family. Thats something I've always wanted to do...And I mentioned my feelings to the BF in the initial days of our courtship...I said I wanted to go places, and he said " I want to be the one to take you to those places. Won't you have more fun with me around? I'll take care of you...I want to show you all kinds of fascinating things..."

That was the sweetest thing and I've never ever felt that I'd be tied down by marriage since he said this. I don't have a clue who the couple in this picture is, but they sure do look happy together. And He was right...with him taking care of me and showing me all over, I wont have to worry about things like keeping the tickets ready, not losing things, hotel reservations, carrying the lugguage etc...[I can see to other things]. But the point is, Two's company!

Admittedly we also decided that we'd give each other freedom for boy's/girl's nights out. Or for biking trips across the country with "guy" friends. That's ok too. As long as we manage to spend quality time together and with the family too. Everyone needs downtime. Too much time in each other's company can just drive one nuts eventually. Plus we'll need new things to talk about! Freedom...it's important. No doubt once kids arrive, and other family obligations too increase exponentially post marriage, we get tied down, a lot. But it's important to make time for yourself, alone and as a couple...otherwise you, and you both, will get lost and exhausted and will one day look in the mirror and not recognize yourself.

A Leap Of Faith.

"Isn't She beautiful? Her sari is so heavy and bright and different...and her make up is just...so perfect...!", exclaimed Alekya's relatives as they examined the bride to be minutely.

"Yes, yes...true...I think the nose ring is too small though...", they criticized as if she were either absent or deaf.

"It's almost time...the baraat is here...I'm just going to go check Tarun out, be back soon!", whispered her sister excitedly as she left.

Alekya felt her stomach lurch. There was no way she could go out there. She felt nauseous and her heart was racing. She clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling pretending that she could squeeeze them so hard the pores would close and perhaps they would stop sweating. Not working! So much for medical scientific logic. Deep breaths now, deep breaths.

No one, except Tarun probably, would even take a wild guess as to how she was feeling. After all, they could practically read each other's minds now. That was what being together for ten years did to you. The duration of their relationship was also the reason why no one would understand how she was feeling. Lets face it, she wasn't the most communicative of people. And even while she presented her precise logic to people, they failed to grasp it in the first go and she never had the patience to present her case twice. Why bother now?With Tarun it was different, he understood and he was her best friend.

But even after ten years, she had her doubts about them. Together. Married. She was scared shitless. There were times she felt she were one with Tarun, and times when she felt he was a total stranger.

"They're here! You're Dulha looks so handsome!! Lucky girl...But he didn't come on a Ghodi...he came in a car...! Guess both of you are well...different. You ready to go out now...?", her aunt came and chattered away.

"Just give me a few mintues, I need to be alone for a bit.", replied Alekya quietly.

"NOW? You want to be alone now? There are people waiting for the jaimal!", exclaimed her aunt.

Seeing no point in replying, Alekya kept her mouth shut. Her aunt left the room and shut the door.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Damn it, not now, not after all those hours of sitting still for make up. No tears. Just thoughts.

Mentally she made a list of all the things she was scared of. Making lists was something she was good at and did whenever she felt overwhelmed. Always helps.

She was scared of his temper. It was the cold kind. He would treat her like a stranger.
She was scared of his family commitments.
She always had the feeling his mother and sister didn't like her very much.
Then again, it was an age old problem, generations of women had been through this, the saas nanad wars...why should she be any different? But they were overpossesive...and while they clearly saw the fights between her and Tarun, no one saw the love. No one saw how much she cared. She put his life and happiness before hers. She went out of her way to make him feel special...No one saw that. Any little thing his sister did for him was praised to the skies...whereas Alekya was never praised that way. Nothing she did for Tarun or his family, sister included...was very well recieved. That wasn't the reason she did things...but it pained her that she wasn't on the same level or even close, as Tarun's sister, even if she treated his family like her own, in fact better.
She would've been ok with all that...if her own mother praised her occasionally, like Tarun's mother did her kids...blindly at times. But Mom didn't...she wasn't like that. She didn't feel the need to excessively praise her kids or defend them when someone was talking nonsense about them. No matter how much people's words hurt her.
Alekya didn't want to enter a family where she was anything less than a daughter to her in laws. And anything less than a sister to her sister in law. Of course she would've preferred if Tarun had had a cheerful loving younger brother who'd love his bhabhi and want to bond with her. But we have to make the best of what we have.
She was also scared of Tarun's passiveness. She was the one who planned dates, raised thought provoking topics of conversations, found new things for them to do...she took most of the initiative in the relationship...kept it going.
And she was the more romantic one... Not that Tarun wasn't romantic...he was, when they were alone, he was the most tender man she knew. No one in the outside world, not even his family, could guess about this side of his nature. But he wasn't the one who googled "how to make your beloved feel special" on the internet...nor did he give unconventional gifts...and she was scared that they would get bored...she would get bored. Or fed up. She'd stop nagging him to be more romantic.
Then there was his whole, huge extended family. Most of whom had a poor opinion of her...without even having met her. Three guesses.

She couldn't go out. She couldn't face them. No one out there knew how much she loved him. All they wanted to see was the negative side which had been presented to them. No one even expected Tarun to be that "Type", as someone put it...the type who had a steady girlfriend. He was so simple, so sweet, so shy, so polite. So honest. Not the type at all! So it was probably the "tez" shrewed girl who had trapped him.

"Didi its time, come on. Up now.", her sister had come to drag her out.

"No. I'm not going."

"WHAT? Where? To get married? WHY?"

"I can't. I don't think it will work. "

"After TEN years you think it won't work? What are you saying?"

"Just...I can't go. Take me out the back door...please."

"Ok, Just...wait...Let me get Tarun...", Her sister started rushing out the door and ushering everyone else out too.

"NO! No, he'll be so angry... he'll never forgive me."

Before she knew it, her sister had left and she was alone again. And then Tarun walked through the door...smilling...
He sat down on the chair next to hers...and took both her hands in his...he put one finger under her chin and tilted her face up to look into her eyes. They were brimming with fear and tears.

"Hey Sweetheart...your sister said you're getting cold feet...is everything ok? Tell me what's bothering my baby...?", Tarun squeezed her hands gently and said.

And as she looked into his huge, warm, gold brown eyes, crinkled at the corners in a gentle smile of understanding... She felt her doubts ,melting away...but not quite.

Their relationship flashed before her eyes...

Beautiful flowers, his complimenting her snoring, making love, Tarun helping her cross the road, Tarun indulging her love for coffee, His sincere, neat painstakingly written letters and cards, Tarun taking her shopping and linking little finger's together, Tarun holding her hand in the cinema, Tarun wiping her tears, Tarun calming her rage, Tarun applauding her awkward dancing, Tarun telling her she had a beautiful voice, Tarun telling her not to worry about his mother and sister, that he was there for her and he'd never let her feel awkward, Tarun listening to her chatter about work, writing, friends, moviess, books, Tarun recharging her mobile without telling her, Tarun enjoying eating with her hands, Tarun playing with her dog, Tarun fixing her laptop, Tarun making her music and movie Dvds, Tarun sharing his things with her, silly possessive loveable adorable Tarun.

"How about we go to the nearest Barista and you can have that Caramel coffee you love and we'll talk?", he gently persuaded.

"But what about all these people?", Alekya mumbled.

"AHHH....them...we'll tell them to wait awhile. Its us who're getting married...lets go. Back door."

He left a text message to his cousin brother saying we both would be back shortly.

He held the hand of his bride and helped her out. They caught an auto and headed to the nearest Barista and didn't care that everyone else was staring at them. There, over a shared cup of hot foaming capuccino, Alekya talked...Tarun listened and they discussed their fears. It was an uncommon sight. Frankly the manager came by and asked if he could click a picture as this sort of thing had never happened before. Gladly they allowed. By then they were ok. Ready to go, get wed!

Tarun had his fears too...but if they both had faith, it would work. They had been together for ten years. The had love and faith and were best friends.

It was time to get married.

CrAviNg CoFfEe...

My mom insists I'm addicted to coffee. I used to have around 4-5 cups of the beautiful brew in black daily. Sometimes more, if I had to study. But ever since i started this new job 10 days ago, I have been so exhausted I can't even muster the strength to make me a cuppa java. I've only had 5 cups in the past 10 days.

Upon hearing this my parents immediately expressed their delight and decided to give me more tips on how to stop drinking coffee. They're not alone in doing so. Many people give useless and more importantly, unwanted advice on quitting coffee.

Imagine their surprise when I coolly imform them I am not interested in quitting my "addiction". I love my cup of coffee. I love the bitter sweetness and musings in a cup. I love almost everything about a delicious cup of coffee. And I know how much to have so as not to get sick. Or gastritis!

We all sometimes feel the need for something, call it a crutch if you will, to help us get by life. For all those times when we find ourselves not brimming with natural endorphins and optimism? For all those times life tries to get us down [ several times a day sometimes.] we have something. A pick me up. Who is to say whose is harmful whose is safe? I'm not talking about big things like alchohol or drugs....not things which can ruin one's life in an obvious manner.

The other tiny addictions which we often fit into out daily routine in such a way that we don't even realise how much we need them, until our routine is upset in some way. It could be our family. Or a TV show that makes us laugh or gasp in horror [K-serials.], or several or few cups off tea or coffee, or our better half, or a few phone calls and conversations to friends to vent. For some it could be an intense round of sex or even pot. A cigarette on the balcony. Daily exercise. Love, even.

All of these in excess are harmful.

But no one advises us to quit them.

Apparently now coffee makes one hallucinate. Well, you're going to have to quit your Doctor because your doctor isn't going to quit his/her coffee! It keeps most of us on the go. That or tea. Or money.

Think about it, before you offer up unwelcome advice to someone else. Whats your addiction? And is it such a bad thing? If it helps soften the sharp corners life has to offer sometimes...?

remorse

Remorse...

One day you'll realise,
and oh!how you'll realise...

what goes around,
inevitably...
comes right back around,
smacks you so hard,
makes you see
no one's world
can revolve around thee.

oh you'll see
and how you'll see...

sticks and stones,
just hurt one's bones.
Nasty words,
rip out your heart
tear down you soul,
broken trust...
never again whole.

oh you'll realise,
and how you'll realise...

sugary sweet,
seems so soothing...
attracts wasps
[won't hesitate to bite]
they'll snatch what they want,
'gainst all you might.

oh you'll see,
and how you'll see...

bitter neem
heals wounds faster
than syrup of honey,
antibiotics,
the balm of money
don't spit it out,
or get angry,
its only to help you
be what you wanted to.

oh you'll realise,
and when you do so...

who will love you?
you stamped it out of us
who will trust you?
you shattered it twixt us!
remorse,regret shall so cloud your mind
for all the true love,
you kicked far behind.