Rashmi's Space

“Thank you for sending out the parcel for me,” she says, taking the proffered receipt.  “It’s no problem. I was going to the Post Office anyway.” She nods. He smiles.   “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” she asks. “When have I ever said no to tea?” he retorts, eyes twinkling. She smiles. Leads the way inside her house. He follows. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says over her shoulder. “I will get on with the tea.” As she sets the water boiling and puts out the milk to warm, she hears him walking around the living room. “Fresh flowers!” she hears him exclaim. “So, you do seem to have a green thumb, huh? Who knew!” She smiles at the boiling water. It is nice of him to notice and to comment on the tiny bunch of flowers from her garden that she has arranged in a small vase out on the table. “Well, who knew!” she says. And when she turns to get the sugar and tea out of the cupboard, she sees him standing at the entrance...

The sound of the raindrops hitting the window panes in a quiet residential part of a small town is so different from that in a big city. That is the thought in her mind now, as she looks out of her kitchen window. The trees around her property are thick and dark as they stand drenched in the heavy downpour. It is the second day in a row that heavy rains continue to lash their area. She has heard in the morning on the radio that the rain will continue for a couple more days. It is good, she thinks, that she has just picked up her groceries, having moved in only a few days ago.       From the small gap in the trees, she can see across to the blue-walled house, just as she could see as a child. It is drenched too. The creepers outside its kitchen wall making a brave attempt at holding on through the heavy downpour. She can see its kitchen window clearly from here. How amazing, she thinks, how few things change over a period of time, although everything is chan...

The other day I took the little one to summer camp. It was a little far from home and going back after leaving him there didn’t make much sense, since I was to go back to pick him up in a couple of hours anyway. And it was still early in the day for shops or even libraries to be open yet; so I decided to hang around the reception for a half hour or so before I could take refuge in the nearest book shop. You have nowhere to go! So fifteen minutes in, I am sitting on one of the plastic chairs in the reception area fiddling with my phone when one of the organisers walks out for a water break and sees me. “How’s it going?” I ask smiling, to which she nods and smiles back and says, “good, they are getting to know each other…you comfortable out here?” and I answer in the affirmative. Then she goes back in and I get lost with my phone again. I am listing out ideas and coming up with openers for my future blog posts and before I know it, she is back. A shocked glan...

We’ve all heard the expression ‘the wrong side of thirty” right? Actually, it could be the wrong side of anything – thirty, forty or fifty; but the idea is to denote that the so-called right side is passé. And more often than not, this phrase is used in relation to mentioning someone’s age. I know I have been hearing this phase for some time now; and I always thought that anyone on the wrong side of thirty was someone over thirty years old. Then when I turned thirty and I had a lot going on in my life,  I told myself that, cliché or not; for me, 30 was the new 20! And I decided that someone on the wrong side of thirty had to be someone who was more than thirty-five years old. And I had a long way to go! But now it is here. It is finally here. That phrase “ on the wrong side of thirty” is here to haunt me, forever! And so here I am, on the eve of my birthday, wallowing in self-pity that I am finally going to be that woman who is on the wrong side of thirty...

The year is 2011. The month is October. And the date should be somewhere towards the end of the month. I have recently moved into a new house; and am recovering from a recent unfortunate medical complication.  My parents have come down from Mumbai to provide moral support as I recuperate; and after a rough few past weeks, I am just about beginning to get my life back on track. The time is 11.00 am. Morning chores are done, and everyone who had to go out for work (or school), has left for the day.  With a cup of coffee in hand, I venture into the study/playroom and take my place on the reading couch with my laptop.  First order of business,  I check the trending news for the day. I read the e-paper, because we do not subscribe to newspapers for the past couple of years, not because we are skimping on money, but because we now have smart phones that have the Apps for every newspaper that we would ever want to read! And that is why, we subscribe to actual physica...