Rashmi's Space

“Don’t run on the lawn!” Meera looked up from her laptop. It was Sunday morning and while Meera caught up on her mails and other news, Pari, her niece, and Ayah, Pari’s caretaker-cum-nanny-cum-companion-cum-governess were in the garden. Ayah was pruning the roses, while Pari was jumping around the garden and playing in the shade of the orange trees lining the compound wall. All the time, trampling over the lawn that Ayah had freshly watered – hence, the reprimand. Meera smiled. Ayah was good for Pari. She ensured that the girl kept her head on her shoulders despite being a ‘gifted’ child of above average intelligence, who was ‘pampered’ and ‘spoilt silly’ (according to Ayah) by Meera. It felt just like yesterday – although it was almost close to nine years now – that Pari and Ayah had walked into Meera’s home, and her life. Meera’s sister had died giving birth to Pari. Pari’s father had never been around. And thus, Meera had become the sole legal guardian to her...

There is something superbly exciting about an ice-cream shop! Vanilla, Strawberry, Black Currant, Chocolate Chip, Butterscotch, Caramel Crunch, Crispy Chocolate Malt, Rocky Road, Café Mocha, Rum N' Raisin... Ummm... Rum n’ Raisin he thinks, a Café Mocha for her. And a Rocky Road for the little one. A few minutes into enjoying their respective ice creams, the little one asks if they can swap the cones, for a taste. “Of course!” she says. “Huh?” He stares. She gives him a look that says, ‘Trust me on this.’ The little one tastes the Café Mocha and makes a face. Coffee is bitter. Well, you need to grow up to appreciate it. She smiles. Now it’s his turn. He isn’t really happy about this. A nine year-old isn’t a baby, exactly; but not all that grown up either. Reluctantly, he gives the child a taste. This time the face the child makes is even worse. “Weird!” They laugh. The child goes back to his Rocky Road. But curiosity persists. “Why does it taste weird?” “It’s the rum,” s...

What is wrong with people these days? I don’t get it! I mean, this Mrs. Dixit! Uff! What is it to her if a certain desi girl marries a foreigner younger than her? To hear Mrs. Dixit speak, you would think it is not this daddy’s li’l girl , but her own daughter who has decided to get hitched to a singer…. Oh, pardon me, I haven’t introduced myself… How daft of me! Myself, Mrs. Bhagirathi…. Mrs. B, you remember? We have met before ! In fact, we have met not once, but twice , I believe…. So, let me tell you from the beginning what happened. Today, after the school bus left, I was taking my usual rounds around the building, when my neighbour Mrs. Dixit joined me. I was listening to songs on my phone, and really was not very happy with the interruption. But then, living in the same building, sharing space on the same floor, even sharing the same maid – there is nothing I could do, but endure. And endure I did. So as we walked, we struck up a conversation. After listenin...

I was told as little child that I should wake up with a smile on my face. Everyday. Because my parents believe, that how you wake up in the morning, determines how your day is going to be. And so, most days, I wake up with a positive attitude. Trying to trick the day into being good to me. But today was different. I have been on a sort of ‘think-mode’ for the past few days now, and sometime last night, I must have been contemplating the current state of my work. Because today morning, as I opened my eyes to a brand new day and a brand new month; the one thought in my head was – that I wasn’t doing enough. That I wasn’t utilising my time properly. Now, I am a firm believer that one should always dream big. And if one has built castles in the air as part of that dream, then one should also do all it takes, to put the foundation beneath them. And it was this thought, that I wasn’t working towards the foundation enough that had me distressed.    I mentioned thi...