Rashmi's Space

Every house has a routine. Every family has a routine. The husband does a few things, the wife does a few; and the daily grind goes on, like clockwork. So long as everyone sticks to their jobs, and does them perfectly, things go right. Kids reach school on time, adults get to work on time, and all is right with the world. Of course, as simple as it sounds, it also sometimes gets monotonous with everyone just doing ‘the same old.’ And every once in a while, the thought does occur – what if, say, one day the husband did the cooking and the wife drove the kids to school? Wouldn’t it be great to just drive, with songs on, drop the kids, and on the way back, listen to one’s favourite songs? Ah, what a blissful hour that would be! What’s more, there would be hot breakfast ready, thanks to the husband who would have been busy in the kitchen while the wife was out driving and listening to songs – I mean, dropping the kids to school… And then, some days, the smooth clockwork ...

“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. “...

The alarm rings. I snooze it and go back to bed. The alarm rings again in ten minutes. This time, I stumble to the bathroom and splash water on my face mercilessly. It is a working day and no matter that the sky is still dark outside, we will all get late unless I start building up a storm in the kitchen soon! In the kitchen, I measure out coffee and sugar as I put the milk and water to boil. Then I bring my phone to the kitchen and start Sri Venkatesa Suprabhatam on my music app. As the notes of Kausalya Supraja … fill the silence of the morning in M S Subbalakshmi’s melodious voice, I pour out coffee in two mugs – regular coffee, less sugar, for myself; and a black coffee, normal sugar, for the husband. Taking the coffee back to the bedroom (well, the husband needs the whiff of coffee to rouse him out of bed), I cannot help but think how lovely it must be for Lord Venkatesa to wake up to the melodious hymns sung in his praise, telling him it is time for him to wake up and s...

I have always been a sucker for stories. Stories in all forms – books, movies, even songs – hold a fascination for me like none other. I don’t know whether this habit was the result of growing up in a family of readers and movie buffs, but it definitely helped being surrounded by people who knew to appreciate a good story. Needless to say, being married to a man who doesn’t read fiction and considers movies as something to help wind down at the end of a hectic day, took some getting used to, no, a lot of getting used to.  I remember spending countless hours watching movies when I was a child or sometimes just watching songs on Rangoli or Chayageet or Chitrahaar on Doordarshan. Each of these songs, especially the ones from the movies I hadn’t seen, led me to ask my parents about the movie and if we could watch it. My Dad was of the opinion that the Bollywood movies of his time (the ‘70s and before and some from the early part of the ‘80s) were and always will be the best!...

Lila was seething with anger when she put down the call. He is mine, dammit!  she thought. And even as she did, she knew getting angry won't get her anywhere. Nothing would change. It was just one more week, one more cancelled visit. And he would not even mind it. Plus, hadn’t she suffered through many of these already? And hadn’t she decided to come to terms with all this and get on with life? But she knew why she couldn’t move on. Life without him meant nothing to her.  Although, everyone in her life told her, this obsession of hers was unhealthy. she needed to move on. But she still held on tight; didn't know for how long. She didn’t even remember when she had stopped counting the years. He didn’t seem to mind the distance anyway. He didn’t feel the need to call her every day; although, she still remembered the time he was dependent on her. Oh, those were the days! But all that had changed. His attention had wandered and then Maya had come in his life! Even today...

Love comes to those,  who still hope, although they have been disappointed;  To those, who still believe, although they've been betrayed; To those, who still need to love, although they've been hurt before; And to those,  who have the courage and faith to build trust again! Image courtesy: Pixabay