Tag Archives: love

THAT TRIP BEFORE BABYMOON

Here’s an article that I had written for WeAreHolidays, a travel portal that offers exciting tour and holiday packages. I have written a couple of more articles earlier and keep writing for them every now and then. But this one particularly got a good response on stumbleupon. It got 2600 hits within 24 hours. It was a very humbling experience and I’ve never got such a good response before.

The article features the top 10 places that a couple should visit before having a baby.

Enjoy reading this:

http://www.weareholidays.co.in/articles/sightseeing/top-10-places-to-visit-before-having-baby

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WHEN FLOWERS CEASE TO BLOOM…

Monica embraced the teddy the way she always held onto her mother whenever frightened of something. With ambiguous eyes, she stood there gazing in the direction of the sun. An otherwise playful Monica was touched by a deep silence unknown to her before – silence that’s reminiscent of a coming storm.

The wind chime placed in her room shattered the stillness with its rhythmic soft tune. But it failed to break the overpowering silence with its melody.

The emerald green crystal vase lay on the table sparkling like always. But today the withered sunflower seemed to fade its beauty. It subtly lent a pale and gloomy air to the vase’s sheen. The flowers were two days old. The dried petals in front of the vase lay lifeless, as if nothing – not even the beauty of life itself could revive it.

Monica ran her finger softly over the dried petal. Despite being gentle, she felt its powdery residue coating her fingertips as soon as she touched it. Its fragility bore a close resemblance to that of life. Engulfed by a sudden feeling of vulnerability, she dropped her teddy. It hit the floor without any resistance – the resistance to hold onto what is dear. A drop of tear rolled down from her cheeks. She swallowed its saltiness with a pinch of angst.

She knew that a lot was amiss. She knew that life’s unfairness had not just uprooted her from her world, but had annihilated it forever. A fatal car accident had not just turned her into an orphan, but injured her for life.

Even in the brightest hour of the day, a bleak future awaited her.

THE LAST WALTZ

The air was filled

With soft tunes-

Of a lovely affair,

Of emotions so sweet-

Making hearts skip a beat.

 

Like a beautiful pair of swans,

They glided hand-in-hand.

Gracefully they swayed

To the rhythm of every beat.

Every smile or glance exchanged said –

A million words with ease.

 

On the threshold of a new life,

They gathered every memory of togetherness.

This was their last waltz

As ‘You’, ‘Me’ and ‘I’

Tomorrow being a new dawn as just ‘We’.

THERE’S A KIND OF HUSH

He was sitting in the veranda on a bamboo recliner. Sipping a cup of green tea and perusing the newspaper; he seemed to be diligently observing his morning ritual. Meanwhile two sparrows flitted around the rose shrub, blossoming with velvet pink roses.

Even though his eyes were firmly going through every word in the newspaper, his mind was captured by something else. A flashback of memories that he always treasured, made him close his eyes and let out a soft moan. He shifted his gaze to the mango tree that stood tall with its wide branches and dark leaves. The mango tree bore the testimony of the bond of love and care between him and her that had strengthened with every passing year.

He walked to his room with heavy steps and stopped near his bed. His eyes rested on the neatly folded deep blue tie that lay beside a sleek business suit. He couldn’t resist running his hand over the satin tie when a teardrop fell on it, glittering like a pearl.

Just then she sauntered in with a plate of sandwiches and she faced him with a radiating smile. She said, “Dad tonight you have to wear the tie that I gifted you from my first salary.” “You’ve hardly worn it,” she complained.

He just smiled and said, “I was saving it for this special day. My princess is getting married today.”

She held out the sandwich for him and he took a big bite from it. Its rich and savoury taste was reminiscent of the time when his nine years old daughter had made mango sandwiches for the first time to surprise him on his birthday.

BUS STOP STRANGERS

It was a mesmerizing starry night. The clouds embraced the sky like a soft, cotton quilt. The sublime beauty of the vast sky was accentuated by sparkling stars, adorning it like a precious crown of jewels. Its serenity and tranquility made it look heavenly, and a perfect abode for peaceful, departed souls. Its calmness was akin to that of a baby that has been lulled to sleep, reflecting innocence so valuable that you would trade adulthood for it.

The birds nestled in the silent trees welcomed the night for the comfort that it brought, putting an end to all the tiresome activities of the day. The trees stood still with their strong branches, protecting the families of birds from the evils of night. The moon caressed the tender leaves with its pure, white light.

The street also seemed to relax in the absence of persistent honking of vehicles and exhausting traffic. The street in alliance with the streetlights formed a marvellous stretch of glazing path as if it was a route to heaven. One or two cars could be seen moving on the street with ease as there was no traffic but the street did not fret their presence because it also basked in the glory of this splendid night.

There was a bus stop in the right hand corner of the street. A colourful advertisement on Delhi tourism was encrusted on one of the panels of the bus stop.  The advertisement encased in a glass case glowed under the influence of tube lights behind it, drawing attention to its content. Comfortable, metallic perforated seats glistened brilliantly under the influence of tube lights.

Night is very often associated with darkness, horror and evil. But it was a pleasant and charming night that embraced comfort and solace. Two strangers were waiting at the bus stop.

A man was over the phone talking to someone in a calm, relaxed manner. The talk was interrupted by amusing chuckles and giggles at short intervals.  Maybe he was talking to a friend. With one hand in his pocket, he sauntered casually across the bus stop. He was attired in semi grey formal trousers and a navy blue shirt. A smart wristwatch cuffed his left wrist.  His gait suggested that he was enjoying the soft whistling of wind. He had a cheerful face, bereft of any worries, and it reflected happiness and optimism. His bespectacled eyes magnified his sense of belongingness and peace that he experienced every time he gazed at the moon.

A woman sat on one corner of the seat at the bus stop. She was clad in blue jeans and a smart peach coloured kurti with her hair falling slightly on her face. With her face resting on her chin, she anxiously tapped her feet on the floor as if she was waiting for someone or something. She glanced at her phone to check the time. It displayed 9:30 PM. The omnipresent tranquility of this bright night was futile in putting an end to her chain of thoughts. It streamed through her mind like a trail of misty water droplets on the window after a shower of rain. The workings of the day had certainly exhausted her, and she was gripped with the urgency to rest on her cosy bed. She raised her head slightly to look around. She did not have an angelic face, yet was attractive in some way for her eyes shone like a diamond owing to the soft light cast by moon. Her shiny, jet black hair crowned her head like smooth, soft silk. The black beads of her jhumka swayed with the pleasant, gentle breeze. Even though she looked tired and a little worried, her enigmatic eyes could arrest anybody’s attention.

They were strangers. But everyday they met at the bus stop. She took the 9:40 PM bus, and he took the 10:00 PM, last bus. It was an everyday affair. They both never tried talking to each other. Only once he had asked her for water because he was feeling little dizzy. She gave him water, two biscuits and a candy.

He liked walking to and fro while waiting for the bus. She always silently watched his gentle footsteps, marching across in a rhythmic manner. He always looked surreptitiously at her every time he crossed her as if he was looking at the advertisement to find something new even when it wasn’t changed for over a month. He always silently admired her enigmatic eyes, and the small black bindi on her forehead. Even with the pervading silence, they both seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Their eyes never met but still they enjoyed this peculiar silent companionship.

He had stopped talking over the phone, and now sat on the seat. He started humming a tune softly to himself which he thought wasn’t audible to her. But she could hear it for she smiled slightly. She looked around in his direction without any deliberate intention of looking at him. But today their eyes met and he said, “Hi, I am Gaurav. It’s pleasant today.” She rejoined, “Yes it is, I am Malvika.”

Her bus finally arrived but today it came at 9:45 PM. She left her seat, and rushed towards the door but slightly tripped over a stone. She was saved from any impending embarrassment. But today in a fraction of a second something different and memorable happened. She found him standing beside her, holding her. She said, “Thank you. Goodnight,” without looking in his direction. She boarded the bus, and it left the bus stop.

They both exchanged an unseen smile. It was unseen to them but others had witnessed it; the sky, the wind and the moon. He took the last bus home. Tomorrow might not be just another day at the bus stop because a change, perhaps something new seemed to beckon them.