Mishti woman

Yeah. I call her that. She was a sweet( mishti..in Bengali) woman who lived in our building years ago. A working woman, she had two sons and an elderly woman to look after the younger one. The two women looked poles apart. The one, calm and dignified..the other real uncouth, hair in a mess and spoke funny Hindi.

What I found amazing about the mishti woman, was that she always smiled. That super sweet mesmerising smile that could floor anyone. She sang at functions in her melodious voice accompanied by her harmonium. She was always in a sari and sleeveless blouse.

If you looked closely at her, you would notice that she was almost bald.. She had literally no hair..except thinning hair going down the sides of her head. Perhaps she suffered from thyroid. She never spoke of it. She wore no wig, didn't crib..never weaved any hair back. 
Serene and secure, she focused instead on her strengths.
Her smile. Her voice. Her accomplishments.

She left our place long ago..but her smile remains with me.
The strong, mishti woman..

Embarassed colleague

We were about to leave this guest house in Coimbatore after breakfast one morning, years ago, on our way to our son's new college where he had taken admission, when my hubby's colleague suddenly appeared on the scene.

He looked at our sons..then at me.( I was dressed in a red top and trousers, with short hair to match).

" Your daughter?" he asked hubby.

" My wife", declared hubby, with a glint in his eye.

The colleague went red like a beetroot, excused himself..and fled.

I don't know about my husband..

but he surely had made my day!

The good looker

I was heavily into fb those days, trying to reconnect with my old classmates, just after a long awaited reunion. When one day, this lone, red friend request button signaled my immediate attention.
Clicking on it, I found a very good looking young man vying to be my friend.
At least I thought so.
He looked sideways in the picture, with a half smile that lit up his chiseled features.

I accepted without hesitation. Going through his profile, I found him to be a popular guy. He had lots of friends.
Wow. Nice to have a friend like him.
He had an attractive personality.
I feel quite drawn to him.

One day finding him online, I decided albeit warily to have a little chat. I learned he was an ayurvedic doctor based in Kerala. At least something in common with him, I thought, being a mallu myself.
He seemed friendly..why else would he talk to a complete stranger like me.  He talked about his work. He must be ever surrounded with female patients, I thought. 

In answer to his query where I was put up, I replied, "Well,quite close to movie stars, you know."
His ears perked up, now he was curious. "How far, where do they live?"
I quickly changed the topic. I really wasn't into filmi stuff then.

Suddenly he logged off, without even a bye.
How arrogant!
We had no interaction since then.
To add insult to injury, one day he unfriended me. 
It wasn't a good feeling, though I quickly got over it.

Months passed. One day chancing upon his name on a friend's post, I got back to his profile. Only to see a dark young man in the picture instead of the friend I had got to like.

A thought flashed through my mind. Checking out the net, I found my old friend back!
But he was a celebrity. I didn't know that. An upcoming malayalee actor then,now is a famous guy down south.
Prithviraj!

How embarrassing! 
I turned red as a beetroot. All this while I had been friends with a man who posed as an actor.
I laughed and laughed.

I'm now a movie buff.
Heavily into his movies.
Prithviraj's.

Inspiring

He's humble
he's simple
 Clad in shirt n pant
Doesn't shout or rant
My doorbell he rings
 'Bread!' he sings
If I say 'no'
 unhappiness won't show
He'll wait n wait
Even though I'm late
He's never rude
Whatever my mood
For 500 he has change
Somehow will arrange
Come rain or sun
He'll bring in the bun
He's always smiling
My bread wallah inspiring.

Special students

They studied with us . 
German.
They paid no fees..simply sauntered into class at will. We protested, teachers did too, but to no avail.
They just needed open doors. That's all. 
Last year a dark guy used to attend class. He would rush in like wind, find the spot closest to the teacher and snooze away to oblivion. He never answered a single question.
But he knew all...(having attended these lectures umpteen times in the past).
We hated him..some feared for their lives. Sometimes Ma'am couldn't concentrate. So somebody would rise up with biscuits in hand and bribe the shabby fellow out through the same door he came in.
He has numerous cousins, mostly students. When I did my first year, a very fair but extremely unwashed fellow, a consistent latecomer would dash in, curl into a sleeping position and sleep throughout. The instant Ma'am finished, he would run out at top speed.
These guys are well qualified. They start from basic level.. some go on to complete their Phds.
As a rule, they need not give exams.
But an ambitious guy appeared in our class this year to write his finals. Obviously people next to him couldn't concentrate. He wouldn't understand " GO." 
Finally a girl summoned up enough courage and went to the front of the class..
"You..you..you..you"..she whispered beseechingly, desperately to the fellow. Loud enough for us to hear.
He slowly rose up, ran down the steps..and simply stood in front of her..and stared.
He stared..and stared. 
We paused holding our breath. We stared. 
Finally this crazy dog decided to call it a day.
He fled.

The call that changed all

She was beautiful. Her cheek shyly displayed a dimple when she smiled. And that she did often. He fell in love with her instantly.
She had that something about her that drew people to her magnetically. So full of energy, she bounced like a ball up and down. With a heart for cooking..they shared the same passion. She was into art and crafts. He into sport. He worked as VP in a multinational. She gave tuitions.

One fine day he proposed. She rejected. Outright. A tad disappointed, but never one to give up he proposed again...several months later.
This time she said," yes".
He, so overjoyed, told his family. She, hers.
The engagement was fixed for the following month. They now were often seen together. At movies, shopping,  at eating joints. Always holding hands. Her photos appeared on his FB page, his on hers.
They seemed..so made for each other.
He couldn't stop smiling.

 Till one day...

when the phone rang. 

They wanted to make sure he would be willing to join their family business.

His parents said, " No". They wanted their son doing what he did.

Misunderstandings followed.

The engagement was called off.

He stopped smiling.

Months later she found a man...got married.

He decided to stay single.

Forever.


(Post written for indispire..
"Just when everything started looking fine, the phone rings.. [Build a story

#TringTring)

Sky is high

'Hey,  just say 'why', my friend interrupted me.
'Why'.
'Because the sky is high', she laughed gleefully and ran away.
One more Bakra.
We often did this silly thing when we were small kids.

I was often in the habit of asking God, 'Why?'
Why did that young lady I briefly saw in the hospital cry? Why did my friend lose her hubby in an accident? Why?
Why did this wonderful Ma'am die all of a sudden? She used to teach so well.
 Why did this humble man of God, so close to us, have to leave this world .. so young?

As I pondered over these questions, it suddenly dawned on me, 'Because the sky is high.'

It was like He was telling me, "My thoughts are not your thoughts..neither are your ways my ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts.…"

There are things happening around me and  in my life I would never understand...
with my finite mind. So instead of asking questions, I must leave the answers with Him.
It's too high for me.
I would know the answers when I meet Him one day.

So now I don't ask 'why'...
because I know the sky's high.

Morning walk

Wow.
I really enjoyed my walk this morning. I normally walk in the evenings, but as I opened my balcony door this morning, I saw a young girl running around the building.

That prodded me on. I changed and as the heavy aroma of my hubby's famous simmering ginger tea filled the house, I rushed downstairs, armed with my mobile and earphones. I began walking. The air was scented with Jasmine. It was fresh and cool, the heat of the day had not yet set in.
The nightshift watchmen changed clothes, changed guard. They looked different in civilian clothes. A middle-aged couple walked in my direction. They seemed to have done many rounds already. The young girl in the tracksuit seemed to have disappeared.

An elderly looking bespectacled man in a dark T-shirt and shorts walked briskly toward me. I changed course, gave him right of way.
He writes very well. He must be gathering ideas for the the day, I surmised. My phone conked off suddenly. Irritatedly I fidgeted with it, till it started again. This on off game continued for quite some time, till I finally gave up.

The couple had called it a day. He pulled down the overhanging Jasmine shrub, as the wife filled the tiny plastic bag with these white flowers. She kept looking over her shoulder at the fellow washing the car around the corner. Or was she afraid someone would catch them at it?

Some more rounds around the building, and I was done. It was the freshest feeling I have had in a long time.
I had worked up an apetite.
Time for my tea.
 I'm doing this every morning.