And then..

(I wrote this bit for a 'complete the story' contest conducted by Yours Truly . The part in blue is the starting given for completion. It doesn't have a title but I call it 'and then' for want of a better title )

It was raining heavily, pouring down a welcome respite from the heat of the past week. Huddled under the small over crowded bus stand, I was waiting for the rain to let up so I could walk back to work when suddenly out of nowhere she came to me and then looked at me shyly. It isn’t often that somebody looks at me that way. Her damp soft brown hair glittered in the streetlight and her brownish grey eyes were soft and mellow. I wondered what such a pretty thing was doing at 9.00 pm in the night. She looked from a decent family. “Maybe it’s the rain”, I thought bitterly,” Brings out the best and worst in everyone. That’s why I am working this late in the evening, when I ought to be at home eating hot soup, all thanks to my manager”

My eyebrows contracted into a frown as I thought of my work place. Demanding, unappreciative and crazy to say the least. And then there was this particularly difficult project. “That’s the way the cookie crumbles, I guess” I sighed resignedly.

Pulling myself out of my sour reverie, I turned to look at her and my troubled face softened and I broke into a half smile, not sure of her reaction. She looked again; hesitantly and then slowly inched timidly towards me a little unsure, a little scared. The guy next to me suddenly spied her and turned to me and whispered “she’s beautiful, isn’t she?’. I felt a pang of jealousy, why should he look at her? I was the first one to notice her, wasn’t I and besides we already had a connection albeit a faint one.

I grunted and shifted my attention back to her, desperately hoping she would not lose interest in me. This time, I gave her a broad grin and in my sweetest voice crooned.” Hellooooooo”. She looked again this time more confidently and skipped close to me and whimpered a weak “meaooow” and then curling around my feet a stronger ‘meaoow’. I bend down and picked that ball of pretty golden brown fur and stroked it softly forgetting all the grouse and grumpiness of the day in that moment of sweetness.

‘My name is Kira and I live in the big red bungalow, next to the bus stop’, said the name tag around her neck.

“Yes Kira, the rain brings out the best and worst in people”, I thought and smiled to myself as I made my way to the bungalow to reunite its beautiful occupant.

Copyright (c) 2010 Neha

To Mom , With Love

As the world celebrates Mother’s Day, I get nostalgic about all that has passed in life and how my mom has been an integral part of it all.

So here’s a little post dedicated to my mom on Mothers Day.

The first word that comes to my mind when I think of my mom is ‘Enthusiastic’. She is probably one of the most enthusiastic people I have come across. Be it cooking a new recipe, or acting in a church play or planning a family meet for our geographically scattered family, I have seen her go about it with an enthusiasm that can be only matched by a child.

While growing up she was the force of discipline for me and my siblings. A firm believer of the ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ philosophy, my brother and I were subject to several well deserved beatings while we were growing up. My sister, being born several years later was spared most of the spanking though there was the occasional rap on the knuckles. And today I am thankful to her for all the values she gave me which have been a guiding light to me in my journey of life.

But she is not all about discipline, she loves a good laugh and quite frankly quite filmy about things. She has some situational song always on her lips which annoys me to no end. Talking about singing, that’s something she never quite mastered, though she won’t admit it. I remember an instance when I was in junior college , my mom suddenly developed this craze to learn singing and would have her practice (riyaz). Once during her ‘riyaz’ I got a phone call from a friend, who after a few seconds asked “Who’s that screaming in the background ?’. Needless to say such uncharitable comments had no impact on the ‘Riyaz’ which continued in full swing.

As a child I was very shy, unobtrusive and retreating. But my mother through her constant preaching and nagging pulled me out of my shell and made me participate in activities and if today I have a lot of achievements and trophies in my kitty, I’d like to think mom had something to do with it.

But the greatest thing, I shall be eternally grateful to her is the faith she instilled in me. She taught me how not to ever give up on a God that never fails. And many times when I am disappointed with things and people, I often think of what my mom says. ‘He’s your Heavenly Father and He is better that your earthly parents. Talk to Him and tell Him everything.’ And whenever I do that I find my answers and peace!

So here’s wishing Happy Mother’s Day to one of the most wonderful, beautiful and unique mother in the world.

I LOVE YOU MAMMA!

The Shoania Saga !

‘So, Sania decided to walk into the sunset with Shoaib ! Big deal’, I thought as I folded the newspaper, drained my cup of coffee and headed for work.

Big deal. Two of the biggest understated words of the month if not the year. Turns out it was a big deal going by the reactions far and wide.

Pakistan welcomed it, India hated it, Ayesha complicated it, Shehrbano Rehman exploited it for her health ministry, NDTV debated it and Bal Thackeray, well he acted his usual self by condemning it just like he did North India, Sachin Tendulkar and the rest of the world.

Who would have thought a marriage would elicit so much response and emotion. Everyone from socialites to IT professional to panwalla and dhobis had their opinion on this.

A typical conversation with a group of friends went like this :

‘How dare she marry a Pakistani, Any one would have been ok but not a Pakistani’ said a friend who has a thing against our northern neighbor.

Another young male friend wistfully said” I mean couldn’t she find one guy in the whole of India? “
“I think she just used India and our facilities for her gain “roared a kurta clad patriotic friend.
A female friend spitefully said “I think she is overrated, I mean she only looks glamorous, she can’t really play you know?”

When I meekly mentioned she did win a couple of grand slams, I was given a piecing look that said ‘whose side are you on?’

Well, I am on the side that says ‘I DON”T CARE ‘.

Who cares whom she married and where she wants to stay, as long it’s not in my flat.

I think sometimes we appoint ourselves advocates and advisors to public personalities give a dozen advices on what should they ought to do.

I say, let it be, credit them with some freedom to take their own personal decisions.

Let them get on with their life and let’s get along with ours however glamous devoid it is !

It’s simpler that way, aint’t it?