Rashmi's Space

“Would you be paying cash or card, Ma’am?” he asked. “Cash.” He nodded and rang up the bill. He gave her the room key and pointed towards the left. “Third room.” He said. She took the key, picked up the one bag that she was carrying in addition to her handbag, and went on her way. The bag was clearly heavy. She could barely lift it, he saw. She was almost dragging it. He offered to help, but she refused politely. The hour was late. What was she doing here, so late in the night with a bag so huge? He wondered. But then the very next moment, he shrugged the thought away. It was none of his business. She could be anyone. She was no one to him. She was in for the night. She had paid in advance. Cash. She would be gone tomorrow. Early in the morning, she had said. Maybe even before he awoke, he thought now with a tinge of disappointment. He made a mental note of waking up early tomorrow so he would at least see her leave. Not many people walked in these doors who ...

Sameer : Hey Mithi : Hey yourself! Where have you been? Do you know how many messages I left for you?! Sameer : Yes. Sorry. I was a little tied up. Mithi : For fifteen days? It took you fifteen days to answer me! This, when you know I am in the middle of a baby-related crisis here? Which is all because of you, by the way – you and your suggestion to ‘not quit working  just because I have a baby! ’ Sameer : Yes. I was… Mithi : Tied up, I know. So, are you going to tell me what you were busy with? Sameer : ….. Mithi : What is that you are typing for so long? Mithi : Hello? Two days later Mithi : Oh my god, Sameer! I am so, sorry! I just found out! Why didn’t you say anything? I can’t believe it. An accident?! I feel so bad. Please accept my deepest condolences. I am really sorry … Next Day Sameer : Hey Mithi : Hey! I am so sorry for your loss. How are you? How is Riya? Sameer : Thanks. Riya is too young to understand a...

“Hello,” said the voice on the phone. “My name is Roald Dahl. I know you never expected a call from me, as famous as I am, but I’ve been given your name as someone who can help me with my next book…” That was how it all started. With that one dream. Of course, I knew it even before I had opened my eyes, that it was a dream. I mean, who in their right mind would say I know you never expected a call from me, as famous as I am… ?! Not to mention the fact that Dahl has been dead for the past twenty-eight years. But that didn’t matter. Not at that time. Because that dream gave me clarity. That dream propelled me into action after ages of inactivity. Well, I say ages, but it was merely months, really. Months spent going in and out of courtrooms. Months spent climbing up and down that horrid staircase of the family court building. Horrible, awful months. Excruciating months, when I preferred oblivion, and possibly even contemplated death. Months when I didn’t want to exis...

“Everything alright, Sir?” Vivaan looked around the beautiful room bathed in the slanting rays of the evening sun. “It is perfect. Thank you,” he said to the concierge, giving him a generous tip, and closing the door behind his grinning back. “It is perfect.” Pia said from where she stood at the corner of the room, near a large window that led out into a spacious balcony.   Vivaan crossed the room in a few long strides and went to stand behind her. He held on to her waist, his shoulders bent, his head resting on her shoulder.   A soft breeze caressed Pia’s curls, as they relaxed against each other, taking in the view of the vast sea before them. The tall palm trees rustled in the fading light, warm, calming; the lithe waves, mesmerising. “Beautiful view, isn’t it?” Pia rested her head sideways on Vivaan’s. “Yes.” She breathed, hugging his hands tight around her waist. “I am really glad I am finally here…” Vivaan began in a whisper. “...

Small pleasures matter in life. Really small, everyday pleasures. Like, being able to smell the garden in full bloom on a hot summer day, or being able to have a hot water bath in cold weather. Or even being able to drink a hot cup of coffee first thing in the morning. Or, for that matter, being able to eat junk food to one’s heart’s content! Ah, bliss! Oh, I almost forgot, for those of you who haven’t met me before , myself, Mrs. Bhagirathi. The kids in my building call me Mrs. B. I am a housewife. Or better still – a homemaker. I work from home and generally spend time reading and surfing the internet when the kids and my husband are away for the day. I also cook and clean, and wash and iron clothes – but I guess all that is included in the title of “homemaker.” So no special mention needed. So, like I was saying, life is a sum total of small pleasures. And what I said about junk food, is absolutely true. Especially when you think of the cheeseburger. Or the veggie bur...

A hundred and forty kilometres. A little above three hours. Three and a half, tops, with any unscheduled breaks. Before noon, she would be at her destination. Myra took a deep breath. Found a local radio station she could live with, and cranked up the engine. The automatic sprang to life with a slow purr.     The traffic was light at this time of the morning, and she was on the highway within a half hour of starting out. She had now found a station playing classics, with hourly news thrown in, in the local language. The sun was shining behind her. The cloud cover increasing ahead of her. Shades on her eyes, she put the car on cruise control, and stared straight ahead.   At first she wasn’t sure she had heard it right. But she reduced the volume on the radio anyway. And tried to hear more carefully. She was right! There it was – the muffled, but unmistakable thumping noise coming from the car! Myra groaned. Oh, please! Not a flat! Not now! It wasn’t the ...

The light was too harsh. Even at 2 am, when the world slept outside, oblivious to everything going on around him, that was the one thing Rahul noticed.  White, stark, bright light – illuminating even the tiniest of corners. Much like the last time he had been waiting in this space. No, not this. A similar space. He had decided never to go back there. And he hadn’t. He was hoping that would change the outcome this time. That it would make it different from what had happened the last time. He was hoping, that changing the place would ensure that his fate changed too. Although, it wasn’t merely the place that was now different. The nurse coming out of the operation theatre, at a run, broke his reverie. Rahul stood up to ask her how things were, inside. But before he could even manage an ‘excuse me, sister,’ she had run past him in her hurry. Rahul swallowed the rising panic in his throat and held on to the back of a plastic chair for support. The chair was bolted to...