Rashmi's Space

One day the men of the world bristled, At the women and their gall – The women who always made them feel That they were good for nothing at all! Coffees in the morning, Breakfasts, dinners and lunch, Cakes followed, and cookies, and snacks, And the cocktails even covered the brunch! The men never cooked any meals you see, They never helped around the house – And even when it came to minding the kids, They squirreled away like a mouse! The women never said anything, of course, But it was there for all to see; So the men thought and thought; and thought and thought and thought, How they would ever equal, the Queen Bee?!   Then they came up, with a brilliant plan, Which they thought would never fail; Their women were sure to fall for their trick, The maidens, so fair, and frail – So they bought them clothes and trinkets, And diamonds and emeralds, so swell; And then they got them beautiful houses, And thought t...

It was 9:30am. The family was having breakfast. Priti poured out coffee for herself and the husband; and milk for sonny boy.  The husband sat at the head of the table, reading news on his smartphone, absently sipping his coffee. Sonny talked animatedly about the game he had played with his friends this morning. He’d taken two wickets, he informed them; and then all the boys had chatted, he said, sitting around on the lawn, sipping from their water bottles, cooling off.    “What did you guys chat about” Priti asked. “Oh, this and that,” sonny said. “Sharav saw that latest Avengers movie this weekend, and he was telling us all about that. Sandy went to watch the IPL match at the stadium yesterday, only to have the game abandoned due to rain! But then he got to see what the groundskeepers did to clear the rainwater and shit…” “Language,” “Sorry…” Priti smiled. “What else?” “Oh, you know Pranav? He went to this tea estate with his famil...

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 ...

“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...

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...

"ओळख पाहू ही  कोण?" मी आईच्या हातातल्या फोन मध्ये डोकावलो. फोटोत एक तरुणी, सायकल वर स्वार, ट्रॅक पॅन्ट आणि टी-शर्ट  घातलेली, कॅमेऱ्याकडे पाहून स्मितहास्य करीत होती. "अरे पाहतोयस काय नुसता, ओळख ना कोण आहे ही." पुन्हा आईने विचारले. मी मक्खपणे मान हलवली. "मला नाही माहीत."  "अरे, हि नमिता! छत्र्यांची!" "बरं..." "अरे बरं काय? तुझ्या शाळेत होती ही! नर्सरीत तुझा डबा खायची बघ? आणि तू उपाशी, रडत रडत घरी यायचास..." नर्सरीत ही मुलगी माझ्या वर्गात होती, इथपर्यंत ठीक आहे. पण ती मला रडवीत असे, हे कशाला महत्त्वाचा होतं, कुणास ठाऊक. "आता हिला ओळख..." "अगं  आई काय तू..."  "हे बघ, प्रिया, अनघा, अगदी तुझ्या पक्या चे सुद्धा फोटो आहेत माझ्या फोन वर!" आई अभिमानाने म्हणाली. "पक्या?" "पंकज पाध्ये रे, नववीत तुझ्या वर्गात होता तो? तो थायलंड ला असतो, बरीच वर्ष झाली आता. एक दोन वर्षात कॅनडा ला शिफ्ट व्हायच म्हणतोय." मी आ वाचून आई कडे पहातच राहिलो! माझा हा नववीतला मित्र, माझ्य...

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...

“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. “...