The Wrist Watch

Financially independent but careful in spendings she was reticent for people who thought they knew her.

She had handful of friends with whom she could be seen laughing.

When alone, she would often hum some old classic. While passing by, she would give a soft halt, would wink and smile to the mirror.

She loved holidaying around the beaches. Sitting by the shores and losing herself to the horizon she would admire the free but disciplined waves.

The enchanting smell of rain would trigger the romantic best of her. Her soul would dance to the beats of rain.

She had of late been fancying wrist watch with big round dial and a colorful strap. For that was in vogue and she liked to keep herself up with the latest trend.

While she was browsing the shelves of a shop, her eyes stuck on the watch that matched the one on her mind.

Big dial with some quirky design, a red bold and feminine belt. This was it. She felt that had to be destined around her wrist. The bright light of the store was adding to its vibrant look. She made no haste to grab it against the swipe of her credit card.

Happily she stepped out of the store, wore it and moved with her chin up. This watch was all she had needed that evening for her soul to feel lifted.

She was suddenly feeling young and more energetic. She went straight to the coffee shop where she had a meeting planned with her friends.

She was all geared up to handle the compliments thrown at her for her flashy new thing. Friends came and greetings were exchanged.

Then a friend said, 'hey awesome watch! Nice choice!'

She was about to bloat further that another one asked, 'what's the time by the way?'

As if a pin was pricked to the fantasy balloon around her, she realized her watch wasn't yet set. In the awe of its grandeur she had completely forgotten to turn its crown and set the time.

She had fallen from an imaginary cloud and her friends knew.

'Silly me', she thought and smiled while turning off the light and going off to sleep that night.

Bright Dark

Hate smelled brutally attractive

His devil smile his savage look 

Did a black magic to her mind 

He with his friends 

Anger Disgust and Dismay 

Sat in dark shades with a tilted hat 

With a colorful hookah in center

 

That smokey night also had 

Another group sitting quiet - 

Calm Sense and Hope 

Shouldering their friend Love 

Whom she had just ditched 

Only to be lost to Hate - 

Sitting in the other group 

Waiting to show her 

The bright darkness 

Of their world

Wrong Vs Right

How does Right get a crown of 'Right' and Wrong a robe of 'Wrong'? Who decides?

How do I know the path I took was Right and the one I left was Wrong? Or that what I could be today would be a Righter version of what I am!

Does Right fit in to my present or it is the Wrong that is quietly leading my way!

Is my eating a non-vegetable to fulfill my wild crave a deed of Wrong, or I am just Right to be following the nature's law. Is my belief in a benevolent power and in worship Right, or my turning a blind eye to any evil Superpower Wrong. Is my priority of things dispositioned the Right way or this order of mine a downright Wrong.

There is a question a little beyond too – Is doing the Right right or the Wrong wrong? May be a careful and protected living is what looks Right whereas a crazy, careless and free living is the Right behind a mist of Wrong. May be shaking hands with Wrong is what is Right! You know what I mean.

Right and Wrong walk together, with tall stature. Both play their best to convince us. One succeeds and smirks at the other. The other mentally says, next is I.

People say, “This is the way it should be”. Really? May be it is the other way that they failed to explore or may be explored the incorrect way. Or never cared to explore at all.

Fact is, nothing matters anyway. The sun will rise and the stars and moon will show, whenever they have to. The Right and the Wrong will keep displaying their might – few of us will get distracted with our eyes trained on what looks Right and few will enjoy trailing the Wrong.

May be following our heart with a touch of sensibility is the only answer in the face of the two players enjoying their turns of win!

Of Hanging Placards

There are so many people around talking. All buzzing. My ear catches none specific as their words are so much muffled, or may be I don’t want to zoom in to them. Here and there I hear the digital taps on the keyboards. While I write this, my keys talk to me the most.  Conditioned air passes through my hair, my finger gaps and past each of my breath, leaving me colder at my workplace.

It is a big work area filled with humans who buried their emotions in air before they entered the door. Only droid-heads are visible from where I’m sitting. Some plunging deep into their screen with their pupils expanding, some explaining a business scenario on their desk phone and some sitting easy and chatting with the equally free humans around.

The buzz is accompanied by some short beeps now and then. Everything looks digitized and in place. I look at the wide white ceiling with patterns of AC vents. There is a CCTV camera etched in the middle with a glass dome surrounding it. A little away from the center, just above the isle there is a placard hanging from the ceiling, pegged through two strings to the surface. It says FIRE EXIT with image of a man running towards the arrow pointing the door. There are tiny equi-spaced light bulbs with motion sensors that turn them off when no one’s around or may be when someone falls asleep in the middle of an on-call meeting. I check out every nook of the space around. Sitting on my seat I visit every other seat but mine.

What if the hanging placards had emotions? What if the desks, the screens, the chairs, the desk phones – all spoke to each other about these human activities? Don’t they get bored of the same chores each day? 

They are not humans. They are not supposed to be in discipline. They can think beyond what they have been taught to think. But they have limitations. Humans don’t. Still humans limit themselves. They behave like the hanging placards that have been tied at ends. Like they can flutter but can’t fly. 

Such is the misery of humans trapped in the cold workplaces. Hinged to order. Perhaps that’s what pays them. But the placards are watching. Probably they just sent a telepathic wave around. A fire alarm broke shrieking through the cold, meh waves. The doors have been quickly opened and fixed so that they don’t retract back by the hydraulic lock. Whistles of guards fill the air. Everyone stands and rushes out. The workspace is suddenly filled with life. I’m supposed to plunge into the swarm of humans that just turned interesting and move towards the open door. 

But this alarm is only for a mock drill I guess, there's no real fire. But who cares. The placards got what they wanted – a little warmth back in the cold air.

Come What May

There is a constant silence in the room. It is a little later than midnight. Everyone's asleep. I lay flat on my bed, looking straight to the ceiling or may be beyond. Everything is so still, as if the world has come to a halt. I almost hear my heartbeat muffled by a little louder sound of the wall clock that hangs somewhere in the room. 

Tick - tick - tick. The hands of the clock steadily move.

The world may seem to have stopped, but the ultimate driver - Time - is still on, as if saying - Come what may, breathe in breath out and move on! 

That Love

While he was gently slurping his morning coffee, Rudra's eyes were fixed on the beautiful and enchanting face of his new neighbour Riddhi who was busy watering plants in her garden.

Riddhi was a young girl in her twenties having an exquisite charm.With an oblong and fine face cut, she always wore a subtle smile. The soft curls on her dense eyelashes sat elegantly on her dark but bright eyes. Along with a slender and an athletic built she had golden beige skin that accentuated her arresting features.

Rudra was a guy quite conscious about maintaining his chiseled body contours. He would wake up early and go for a short run in the fresh air in joggers park, before hitting the gym floor.

That morning was magical. He had never before seen a lady more beautiful than her. He wished the moment freezed there. He wished she never went out of his sight, ever. But while he was fantasizing about her, someone called her and she slid away in no time. That left him disappointed but he was sure elated to have her as his new neighbor.

Days passed like that. His pining eyes would sometimes succeed in catching her view and sometimes he would have to wait for hours or even days to get her glimpse. He lived with his parents who had shifted permanently in this city a few years back.

In-spite of her phenomenal beauty that she was aware of, Riddhi had no false pride or airs. She believed, it is the different life skills that make a person complete. Physical beauty is a gifted asset that sure ought to be nurtured as well.

One day while she was driving back home, she saw some people gathered on a side, surrounding a man who had met with an accident. She pulled over to see if she could be of any help. She managed to stand on the footpath and peek into the spot. The man had got a bad head injury that had led to a stream of blood flow from his hind head. The man was lying on the road supine. She was aghast to see it was none other than her neighbor, whom she had sometimes seen on his bike or in his open terrace in the house next to hers. It was Rudra.

She made no haste in getting him parked in the front seat of her car and rushing to the nearest hospital. There in the emergency ward she got him examined. More than his being her neighbor, she knew nothing more about him. His parents were travelling abroad on an official tour and they needed at least 36 hours to reach the hospital. And hence she decided to take his charge till his parents arrive.

He was shifted soon to the ICU where upon further examination it was found that there was a blood clot in his head that was fatal and had to be removed. Within few hours he was operated and next morning he was shifted to a special ward.

She was his sole caretaker, apart from the nurses and doctors. She dealt with his condition with patience and without a hint of peeve. That day he remained listless throughout. Next morning when doctor came to examine him, he was awake with minimal body movements. While the doctor was checking his pulse, Riddhi entered the room. She saw him and smiled. Rudra seeing this squinted as if in a dilemma. He could not believe his eyes seeing the girl of his fantasies standing in front of him and giving him the warmest of smiles. He could hear his own heart pound hard! He could feel a sudden stream of blood gush to his head.

Doctor introduced about her as his saviour and told how composed and helping she had been in the last few hours when Rudra had needed an attendant. The doctor then described how badly Rudra was injured and that Riddhi was the one who was the reason for his new life! Rudra was already overwhelmed. But before Riddhi could put forward her modest words, something happened to Rudra. 

He started shivering out of sudden chill. His feet and palms turned cold as ice. Doctor and nurses swaddled him in thick blankets but in vain. He was still cold as never before. He started taking long deep breaths. The sight was very frightening, at least for Riddhi. He got a seizure and he entered the state of Coma. He could feel everything but could not react or move. Doctors investigated his case and concluded that he might or might not return to his normal active state. This greatly perturbed Riddhi and she remained unsettled for many days as she had got attached to this 'just a neighbor' of hers.

Time heals everything. Like every other thing, she moved on.

Several months passed. Rudra's condition did get better and he got resurrected to an active mode in about a year. He recalled all that had happened to him. His parents were the happiest when they got him back. On returning to his house, the first thing that he did was inquire about Riddhi.

She had got married by then. This troubled him like hell. While returning from the hospital he had dreamt of spending the rest of his life with Riddhi, his saviour and more important – his lady love! He was left broken and dismayed.

And so a love story that could never transpire, ended.

Five years later, one fine winter morning Rudra got a phone call that said, 'congrats! You are now a father to a beautiful daughter'. With an immense happiness he smiled and replied, 'Call her Riddhi!'.