Rashmi's Space

Note: This is Part 2 of a love story, the first part of which, you can read here ! The rain was coming down hard. Most shops had closed and people had disappeared indoors. The library, just a few blocks away, would’ve been a haven, if only she hadn’t left it! The few auto rickshaws standing near the pavement had already refused to take her home. And Simi stood shivering under a tree, clutching her backpack tightly.  There has to be a way out of this! “Hi!” Simi turned as a young man came rushing in from the rain to stand next to her under the tree. “Are you alone?” he asked, taking off the hood of his jacket. “Vivaan!” Simi was surprised, and pleased. “Yes!” he said, with that lopsided smile; “What are you doing here all alone? Come on over?” he asked, pointing to the direction of his home, Varsha’s home; that was just around the corner. Simi looked up nervously. That would be the best thing to do. Wait out the rain at Varsha’s home. She could...

“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 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...

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...

Lata Mangeshkar…or was that Asha Bhonsle...? In a lot of these old songs they sounded so similar! Simi woke up, as usual, to melodious songs of the black and white era being played on the radio. With groggy eyes, she walked up to the kitchen and hugged Mai from behind. “Good morning,” she mumbled, nuzzling the side of her mother’s neck. “Woke up? Go brush your teeth quick, I’ll warm up the tea,” her mother said, caressing her cheek with a loving hand, while the other, cloaked in dough, rested in the wide plate in which she was mixing the atta for parathas. When Simi came back to the kitchen to pick her tea-cup, she saw her mother had kept another cup next to hers. “Who’s is that?” Simi asked. “Baba’s” her mother said, turning to her, smiling. “At home today?” Simi asked, her eyebrows raised. Her mother nodded soberly, while Simi gave a wide grin. “Dada’s going to freak out!” she said. And the mother and daughter giggled like the best friends they wer...

“ T ai , your tea is getting cold,” says Latabai, putting away her own cup of tea back on the tray. Krishna smiles and puts her almost full tea-cup to her lip. It is stone cold now. And tasteless. Although, the coldness of it has less to do with the tastelessness of it, than what Latabai sits talking about. The housekeeper came to see her late in the evening when Krishna was sitting on her porch wondering about the sudden change in the weather. The wind had picked up, leading her to think it may rain again, or at the very least, there would be a storm coming soon... making it difficult for Ananta and her to go for their walk tomorrow morning.  Now, she has made fresh tea, so the two women could sit and chat.    They have done this a few times when the housekeeper has had a few hours off from work. And while they aren’t exactly friends, Krishna likes the frankness and honesty of the housekeeper; and admires the fact that the woman doesn’t use her circu...

K rishna looks in the mirror and almost doesn’t recognise herself. A beautiful lady in her fifties in a plain grey silk saree stares back at her. She wears a string of pearls and matching pearl earrings. A radiant smile completes the picture; her favourite frozen ittar , dabbed just so on the underside of her wrists, leaving a beautiful fragrance around her. As she goes around the house switching off lights in the rooms and dimming the lights in the living room, she remembers the last time she got all dressed up – her daughter’s wedding day. Like that day, today too, her saree is new – a gift that arrived from her daughter this week as an apology for not being able to come down to visit her as promised. And while that hurts really badly, she cannot help but enjoy the rustle of the silk as it swishes around her when she walks.    Krishna has never been conventionally beautiful. And yet, she has always been attractive in a quiet, unpretentious way. And t...

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...