A friend had this link to a post on infidelity recently, where the lady was preaching about a whole lot of things. And that got me thinking, coz wat that lady said sounded almost trite to me.
Hence a minor deviation from our usual story roundup, to talk about, well not infidelity per se but relationships in general.
A caveat however before we start, i'm only a single 26 going on 27 chap, not someone who can claim to have that marriage which lasted 50 golden years of happiness...so do take what i say with a pinch of salt, probably your understanding of relationships is better than mine.
So the way I see it, the world has evolved from the time the definition of relationships like 'family' and 'marriage' were formed.
In a marriage for one...'interdependence' is a strong linkage making both the parties need each other. While traditionally 'men' used to go out and earn food and money 'women' were the emotional providers.
Cut to the present shot...both 'men' and 'women' go out there to earn money and hence 'both' require emotional support and more so require to be emotional providers.
Now point two, earlier work used to be (and i'm talking really early times)...go out in the morning, water the fields and rest of the day chat under the banyan tree. Ok in more recent times, it was go do your work and be back by 5. Now...8-8 is the usual timings for a lot of people and that at the junior level, as you go higher its usually 7-11. You fit in meetings, reviews, office talks, con-calls, pre-work, post-work and all that and you barely have time to breathe....and lesser time for relationships...so while you may have the need for emotional support...you end up not having time to either consume or provide it.
Point three, farmers really didn't care if his neighbour produced a few more bushels of wheat...what was he gonna do...smoke a better hooka? As the number of materialistic choices increase, our focus is progressively on getting a better house, a bigger car, a bigger tv, a smaller cell. The need to prove to the worl that i'm no. 1, higher increments, faster promotion, respect at work...as it is about 70% of my time is getting devoted to the office...hence most of the 'needs' also shift towards the office...and so office relationships and dynamics and achievements get highlighted more than personal relationships.
Office becomes less as a place to earn bread for the family but more like a family in itself, except that it has no place for your emotions, which are left orphaned.
Hence as a summary what is hurting modern day relationships is three key things
1. Reducing 'interdependence' in traditional terms and not yet evolved contemporary interdependence
2. Reduced time availability for personal life
3. Increasing importance of work place achievements over personal achievements
So is it doomsday for relationships?
I wouldn't believe so, like always humans are evolving to the new conditions around them. The interdependence is evolving, men are learning to be the emotional providers also, women are finding their own place in the corporate envt.
Having seen others fail, people are realizing to pull back and give time to family and slowly people are beginning to question the importance of materialistic achievements...cause they find, hey whats the fun with that new promotion, if i'm gonna be divorced and there's no one whose gonna be cheering me up and feeling happy over my success.
Though the point is, those of us who don't evolve, or evolve slowly will find the process of evolution very very hard to bear. Cause thats how evolution works, when the sun is burning down on your head, you either learn to build a shelter against it very quick or you well, have u seen sun dried tomatoes :P
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Rehaana - part 15 - 'the book'
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
Rehaana - part 13 - not wanting to be found
Rehaana - Is this the End?
She slapped him. He was lying on the bed reading 'the book'. She always slapped him when he read that chapter from that book. She liked the book otherwise but this one chapter and this was always the result. Why did he have to write that death scene there. This time she bit him also, just for that extra effect.
He got a little shocked, he was used to the slap, infact after the first few times he had given up protesting and secretly started enjoying it, but the bite was new.
"What happened, baby" he asked her, pulling her closer in his arms
It had been an year now, an year since she'd stepped of that stage with the trophy, an year since she had stepped out of the book. What is this book we often ask. There will always be an author. Its just that whether you believe that everything in your story is written by him or whether you are gonna write most of your story.
He had written the story, their story, well almost, except for a few twist and turns (which is why he got slapped so often). It was his first book, a nice book, and it had won him acclaim and money, allowing him to quit his job and become a full time writer.
She looked at him, the senti bugger. Why, why had she fallen for him. She thought she was a drama queen, this guy was the king of melodrama. She had just cooked upma one day and the bugger had written a poem about it. Who writes a poem about upma for heavens sake. And the days he got senti, he drove her mad, a bigger pain than all the office pain she had.
But she knew why she loved him. He knew how to make a girl feel special, every day.
Their journey had not been easy...but it had been their journey and there was something comforting about having him around. It wasn't as if he made everything magically right. Infact more often than not he messed it up. Like when she had asked him to get a cake. She had ordered the cake, told the baker exactly how it needed to be made. All she had asked him to do was pick the damn thing up from the baker and get it home. He did, except that a little bit of speed, a dicey cut between two vehicles, screeching of brakes (no no more flying over edges :P ) and the guitar shaped cake came looking like a broken mic.
Not that her friend who she had ordered it for minded it, but you know the lady. She went into such a tantrum. She wasn't the screaming kinds. She was the kind who would go silent when they get angry. She turned to go to her room to cry in peace.
Phaat...a lump of cake landed on her back. He was holding another piece in his hands, grinning. She was so gonna murder him. After that it was an open to all, probably one of the best fun parties they ever had. Maybe a little kiddish, not the way she had imagined it.
But that night when they made love to each other, lets just say, there was a lot of chocolate on them for them to nibble. It was a double treat for both.
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
Rehaana - part 13 - not wanting to be found
Rehaana - Is this the End?
She slapped him. He was lying on the bed reading 'the book'. She always slapped him when he read that chapter from that book. She liked the book otherwise but this one chapter and this was always the result. Why did he have to write that death scene there. This time she bit him also, just for that extra effect.
He got a little shocked, he was used to the slap, infact after the first few times he had given up protesting and secretly started enjoying it, but the bite was new.
"What happened, baby" he asked her, pulling her closer in his arms
It had been an year now, an year since she'd stepped of that stage with the trophy, an year since she had stepped out of the book. What is this book we often ask. There will always be an author. Its just that whether you believe that everything in your story is written by him or whether you are gonna write most of your story.
He had written the story, their story, well almost, except for a few twist and turns (which is why he got slapped so often). It was his first book, a nice book, and it had won him acclaim and money, allowing him to quit his job and become a full time writer.
She looked at him, the senti bugger. Why, why had she fallen for him. She thought she was a drama queen, this guy was the king of melodrama. She had just cooked upma one day and the bugger had written a poem about it. Who writes a poem about upma for heavens sake. And the days he got senti, he drove her mad, a bigger pain than all the office pain she had.
But she knew why she loved him. He knew how to make a girl feel special, every day.
Their journey had not been easy...but it had been their journey and there was something comforting about having him around. It wasn't as if he made everything magically right. Infact more often than not he messed it up. Like when she had asked him to get a cake. She had ordered the cake, told the baker exactly how it needed to be made. All she had asked him to do was pick the damn thing up from the baker and get it home. He did, except that a little bit of speed, a dicey cut between two vehicles, screeching of brakes (no no more flying over edges :P ) and the guitar shaped cake came looking like a broken mic.
Not that her friend who she had ordered it for minded it, but you know the lady. She went into such a tantrum. She wasn't the screaming kinds. She was the kind who would go silent when they get angry. She turned to go to her room to cry in peace.
Phaat...a lump of cake landed on her back. He was holding another piece in his hands, grinning. She was so gonna murder him. After that it was an open to all, probably one of the best fun parties they ever had. Maybe a little kiddish, not the way she had imagined it.
But that night when they made love to each other, lets just say, there was a lot of chocolate on them for them to nibble. It was a double treat for both.
Rehaana - Is this the End?
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
Rehaana - part 13 - not wanting to be found
He saw her text, he didn't know whether to smile or to cry. They had been so close, the next step had seemed so simply real. Yeah it would have been a little messy, but he was there for her, why was it so difficult for her, why.
The other he in the story, the husband came into the picture now, and not in a pleasant way. He had decided to settle down in the US, wanted his parents to also shift. He didn't see himself in the leather business. He wanted to sell it off.
Fights day in and day out. Half the time she was trying to get the business done rest half she was convincing him to not sell out. She was tired, so very tired. She just fell asleep one Wednesday, didn't go to office. Maybe that is what she had needed, cause when she woke up, she knew who to call.
But our author had something else on his mind
"Hi"
[Silence]
"How've you been? I am so sorry, scream at me as much as you may, but I just needed some time"
"Grandpa passed away...I needed you"
"I am so sorry"
"Yeah neways, how've you been"
But she knew she had lost him, he wasn't his usual self...
She got back to her work, her work that she loved, her work that didn't ask her questions, her work that rewarded her back. she had made the biggest comeback with her firm, her employees were happy and engaged and together they had made a big splash on the European scene.
He messaged her a week later, and then again the next day, followed by calls. The more he would call, the less she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to pull back. She was afraid, he would also break her heart.
And he wondered. what about his love did she find deficient. Why couldn't she love him back. Why did Abhyut weigh more on her mind than he did, why did her work matter to her more than he did. He knew about her friends, he knew she was talking to them, meeting them, but she was too busy to even sms him. She wanted to take the effort to make everything else in this world work, but his smile, who would worry about putting a smile on his face.
He was shaken to his root, what more could he do, he knew love needn't be all that simple, but did it have to be so damn tough. He remembered his conversation with the author, he looked up at him, the author just shrugged his shoulders, like he didn't know either.
He realized it was finally upto her, whether she chose to love him, give her life to his happiness or to choose something else as her priority. Not everyone was a dreamer. He just wished she knew what she wanted, what a waste playing pennies and dimes, life should be a game where you are all in or all out. Ever since she had lost a hundred bucks, she had been playing safe, just pennies and dimes.
One week before the final data had to be submitted, she had been busy getting an order from a presitigious fashion house. This would be the clincher. She was so excited she had to tell someone. She called him "Dude, I am gonna get this one, I am gonna so get this one and then I'm gonna nail Abhyut's ass, he won't even know what him. This is the sign I was waiting for"
"Damn you, damn your fucking Abhyut, and damn your prize. When in the night you come back home have a nice lovely dinner with your fucking trophy"
She cried that night, she had never heard him that angry, she had never heard him that mean. Didn't he know how much this meant to her. She wiped her tears, she liked her work and nobody was going to talk to her like that. They were all the same, in the end, they were all the same. Why couldn't he have waited a few weeks, in a few weeks the trophy would be hers, then the happy times would come, no but he couldn't, he was a man, he just didn't understand her.
He was driving back from Gurgaon to Noida, his daily routine. Tired and alone. He had been unsuccesfully been trying to keep her thoughts away while at work, in the car it was impossible. Just him, and her thoughts. He tried to think why he loved her so much. It was because when she talked to him, words would jst flow, it was like the buddy he had always been looking for, but ofcourse when she talked to him, which was rather infrequent.
He blamed himself for some part of what had happened. Maybe he had given her too much to soon and she never really got a chance to know how much she wanted him. Its only when you are hungry you enjoy your meal. The moment she had opened her mouth he had filled it with everything in his kitchen.
Something was wrong up ahead. He heard the screech of tyres, the cars ahead of him looked ok, further down he heard a big crash, with that sound the landcruiser in front of him jammed his breaks fully.
"don't pull your hand brake, don't" he could almost hear himself shout "you're gonna be fine, just don't pull your hand brake"
They did, the landcruiser spun almost 90 degrees as soon as the handbrake was applied and came to a stop bang in the middle. His own breaks were fully jammed. 100 feet, 90 feet...he knew it was gonna be ok. He would bang into the landcruiser but he wouldn't hit it with much impact, his front would get smashed a little, but it was gonna be ok. He didn't want to pull his handbrake lest the guy from behind come and get him from the side.
60 feet, 50...what the $%$#%. A woman stepped out of the back door of the car, evidently dazed, she was holding something in her arms, shucks it was a baby. Her back was towards him.
"Crazy, idiotic woman" he thought
25 feet. The baby looked up at him and smiled. Such a cute baby, he smiled back.
He knew what had to be done, in such situations where most people get frigid, his mind went into an auto analysis mode.
He waved at the baby one last time. 15 feet, he wished, someday he would have a baby like that, and then with his left hand he yanked the wheel left and with his right he went for the cell.
Even at the low speed the car went over the railing. Ask any of the engineers and they would be ruffled as to how it was possible, the railing was so designed that cars would not topple over, well they didn't know that our author had seen a few bollywood films with Dharam paaji beating a whole stadium full of people with a handpump.
The car hit the road below bumper first, the height from which it fell and the fact that it was a maruti car with no airbags, didn't help the his cause much. However he was fast, he knew what the author was upto and he wanted to warn her
"believe in the happy story" he typed out in almost milliseconds, if somebody had been recording it he would have gotten the Guiness record for this act.
But the author got to him before he could press send as the steering wheel came crashing into his chest. His ribs broke and punctured his lungs and his heart. the cell fell from his hands. He didn't go immediately, he thought about his mom, he thought about her, he thought about the little Rehaana whose story he hadn't been able to complete, "now you're just acting like a bouncer" he joked witht the author, he made his peace with him. Five minutes after his car hit the ground his heart stopped beating.
It took them another half an hour to get his body out of the mangled mess
"This year's entrepreneur of the year can be none other that Rehaana, she took a small loss making leather garment unit and has made it an icon of shining India, and the also and indesputable part of the World's fashion industry.
She was on the stage, the trophy beautifully carfted by the house of Cartier itself in her hands. Abhyut was there, in the first row, she could see that it burnt him, that he couldn't look her in the eye today. But she didn't feel happy.
At that time everything seemed to be clear to her. What she wanted was to be in his arms, he giving her a foot massage, she feeding him french toast that she made. She could almost feel him, nothing was complete without him.
She was caught in the cocktail party, she wanted to run, she wanted to scream, she wanted to be free. She kept trying his number, but his cell was unreachable.
She cried that night, she was alone, she wanted him, today she knew so clearly that she wanted him.
It took her a week to find out about him. She thought it was a joke. He couldn't leave her like that could he. A few months wasn't too long for someone to wait was it. This wasn't a movie damm it, this wasn't city of angels, this was her life.
She went to his grave. He was a hindu, but he had always wanted to be buried. Not because he liked the earth so much, but because he wanted to have the last word.
She wasn't sure what flowers to take for him, she didn't know, she had never asked. She took orchids, she liked them the most, she knew he'd anyways like whatever she liked, he was that types.
His tombstone was blank, she sat in awe...he had had the last word and it was so beautiful.
"You weren't supposed to leave me, you promised me a happy story, remember?"
"It is a happy story. You just haven't decided its yours or the author's...."
she turned around, there he stood like always, holding out his comforting hand to her...outside the book
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
Rehaana - part 13 - not wanting to be found
He saw her text, he didn't know whether to smile or to cry. They had been so close, the next step had seemed so simply real. Yeah it would have been a little messy, but he was there for her, why was it so difficult for her, why.
The other he in the story, the husband came into the picture now, and not in a pleasant way. He had decided to settle down in the US, wanted his parents to also shift. He didn't see himself in the leather business. He wanted to sell it off.
Fights day in and day out. Half the time she was trying to get the business done rest half she was convincing him to not sell out. She was tired, so very tired. She just fell asleep one Wednesday, didn't go to office. Maybe that is what she had needed, cause when she woke up, she knew who to call.
But our author had something else on his mind
"Hi"
[Silence]
"How've you been? I am so sorry, scream at me as much as you may, but I just needed some time"
"Grandpa passed away...I needed you"
"I am so sorry"
"Yeah neways, how've you been"
But she knew she had lost him, he wasn't his usual self...
She got back to her work, her work that she loved, her work that didn't ask her questions, her work that rewarded her back. she had made the biggest comeback with her firm, her employees were happy and engaged and together they had made a big splash on the European scene.
He messaged her a week later, and then again the next day, followed by calls. The more he would call, the less she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to pull back. She was afraid, he would also break her heart.
And he wondered. what about his love did she find deficient. Why couldn't she love him back. Why did Abhyut weigh more on her mind than he did, why did her work matter to her more than he did. He knew about her friends, he knew she was talking to them, meeting them, but she was too busy to even sms him. She wanted to take the effort to make everything else in this world work, but his smile, who would worry about putting a smile on his face.
He was shaken to his root, what more could he do, he knew love needn't be all that simple, but did it have to be so damn tough. He remembered his conversation with the author, he looked up at him, the author just shrugged his shoulders, like he didn't know either.
He realized it was finally upto her, whether she chose to love him, give her life to his happiness or to choose something else as her priority. Not everyone was a dreamer. He just wished she knew what she wanted, what a waste playing pennies and dimes, life should be a game where you are all in or all out. Ever since she had lost a hundred bucks, she had been playing safe, just pennies and dimes.
One week before the final data had to be submitted, she had been busy getting an order from a presitigious fashion house. This would be the clincher. She was so excited she had to tell someone. She called him "Dude, I am gonna get this one, I am gonna so get this one and then I'm gonna nail Abhyut's ass, he won't even know what him. This is the sign I was waiting for"
"Damn you, damn your fucking Abhyut, and damn your prize. When in the night you come back home have a nice lovely dinner with your fucking trophy"
She cried that night, she had never heard him that angry, she had never heard him that mean. Didn't he know how much this meant to her. She wiped her tears, she liked her work and nobody was going to talk to her like that. They were all the same, in the end, they were all the same. Why couldn't he have waited a few weeks, in a few weeks the trophy would be hers, then the happy times would come, no but he couldn't, he was a man, he just didn't understand her.
He was driving back from Gurgaon to Noida, his daily routine. Tired and alone. He had been unsuccesfully been trying to keep her thoughts away while at work, in the car it was impossible. Just him, and her thoughts. He tried to think why he loved her so much. It was because when she talked to him, words would jst flow, it was like the buddy he had always been looking for, but ofcourse when she talked to him, which was rather infrequent.
He blamed himself for some part of what had happened. Maybe he had given her too much to soon and she never really got a chance to know how much she wanted him. Its only when you are hungry you enjoy your meal. The moment she had opened her mouth he had filled it with everything in his kitchen.
Something was wrong up ahead. He heard the screech of tyres, the cars ahead of him looked ok, further down he heard a big crash, with that sound the landcruiser in front of him jammed his breaks fully.
"don't pull your hand brake, don't" he could almost hear himself shout "you're gonna be fine, just don't pull your hand brake"
They did, the landcruiser spun almost 90 degrees as soon as the handbrake was applied and came to a stop bang in the middle. His own breaks were fully jammed. 100 feet, 90 feet...he knew it was gonna be ok. He would bang into the landcruiser but he wouldn't hit it with much impact, his front would get smashed a little, but it was gonna be ok. He didn't want to pull his handbrake lest the guy from behind come and get him from the side.
60 feet, 50...what the $%$#%. A woman stepped out of the back door of the car, evidently dazed, she was holding something in her arms, shucks it was a baby. Her back was towards him.
"Crazy, idiotic woman" he thought
25 feet. The baby looked up at him and smiled. Such a cute baby, he smiled back.
He knew what had to be done, in such situations where most people get frigid, his mind went into an auto analysis mode.
He waved at the baby one last time. 15 feet, he wished, someday he would have a baby like that, and then with his left hand he yanked the wheel left and with his right he went for the cell.
Even at the low speed the car went over the railing. Ask any of the engineers and they would be ruffled as to how it was possible, the railing was so designed that cars would not topple over, well they didn't know that our author had seen a few bollywood films with Dharam paaji beating a whole stadium full of people with a handpump.
The car hit the road below bumper first, the height from which it fell and the fact that it was a maruti car with no airbags, didn't help the his cause much. However he was fast, he knew what the author was upto and he wanted to warn her
"believe in the happy story" he typed out in almost milliseconds, if somebody had been recording it he would have gotten the Guiness record for this act.
But the author got to him before he could press send as the steering wheel came crashing into his chest. His ribs broke and punctured his lungs and his heart. the cell fell from his hands. He didn't go immediately, he thought about his mom, he thought about her, he thought about the little Rehaana whose story he hadn't been able to complete, "now you're just acting like a bouncer" he joked witht the author, he made his peace with him. Five minutes after his car hit the ground his heart stopped beating.
It took them another half an hour to get his body out of the mangled mess
"This year's entrepreneur of the year can be none other that Rehaana, she took a small loss making leather garment unit and has made it an icon of shining India, and the also and indesputable part of the World's fashion industry.
She was on the stage, the trophy beautifully carfted by the house of Cartier itself in her hands. Abhyut was there, in the first row, she could see that it burnt him, that he couldn't look her in the eye today. But she didn't feel happy.
At that time everything seemed to be clear to her. What she wanted was to be in his arms, he giving her a foot massage, she feeding him french toast that she made. She could almost feel him, nothing was complete without him.
She was caught in the cocktail party, she wanted to run, she wanted to scream, she wanted to be free. She kept trying his number, but his cell was unreachable.
She cried that night, she was alone, she wanted him, today she knew so clearly that she wanted him.
It took her a week to find out about him. She thought it was a joke. He couldn't leave her like that could he. A few months wasn't too long for someone to wait was it. This wasn't a movie damm it, this wasn't city of angels, this was her life.
She went to his grave. He was a hindu, but he had always wanted to be buried. Not because he liked the earth so much, but because he wanted to have the last word.
She wasn't sure what flowers to take for him, she didn't know, she had never asked. She took orchids, she liked them the most, she knew he'd anyways like whatever she liked, he was that types.
His tombstone was blank, she sat in awe...he had had the last word and it was so beautiful.
"You weren't supposed to leave me, you promised me a happy story, remember?"
"It is a happy story. You just haven't decided its yours or the author's...."
she turned around, there he stood like always, holding out his comforting hand to her...outside the book
Monday, April 13, 2009
Rehaana - part 13 - not wanting to be found
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
She woke up in the morning, pressed the button hot black coffee filled her mug. She moved to his room, his door was wide open, the bed was made, everything was neat just like the day he had come. There was a note on the bed and a box of chocolates "Hope everything's in order, have moved shifted to hotel, enjoy the chocolates :)"
She sat on the bed, silent. She thought about yesterday, how happy they were, then the phone call. Why had she gone back to her room, why, she might as well have stayed
with him, it would have been a happy night, why had she let that phone call spoil it for them, felt the warmth of the coffee in her hands and realized how used to she had gotten to having coffee ready for her, she had gotten used to his love. She slid down onto the floor and sat with her back against the bed. Looking up at the ceiling she wondered if he had been right about the author. Then she cried.
She didn't call him that day, nor the day after. He messaged her once but she let it pass. Almost a week later he called in the evening, the parents were in the house, she couldn't take the call. He texted "going back to gurgaon, done with my client meetings here, watz troubling you baby, we'll work everything out". A tear filled her eye, she opened a bottle of wine.
She drowned herself in work, work had always been her savior, it blocked out all the other questions in her mind.
She was in a happy mood, it was a saturday, she had cooked south indian for the parents, a deal had just gotten closed. She had heard she was in the reckoning for entrepreneur of the year award, she had bought a new pair of shoes. She called him. It had been three weeks.
"Hi" in her low voice
"Hey" he replied back
And then they talked, they talked and they talked.
"Baby, its been three weeks, you okay? watz kept you away so long, i missed ya"
"I'll make it up to you baby i promise, don't ask me questions please, please" her voice half cried half begged and he cursed himself for managing to do it again.
But two weeks, five smses and 3 missed calls later he wondered. He didn't know what to do. She was his heroine, he found it hard to breathe, hard to live. Unlike her he was a dreamer and he didn't dream about too many things. He sat and wrote Rehaana's story, but each word passed through his heart like a dagger. He knew she was afraid, afraid of being happy, afraid of taking a decision, afraid the pain would begin all over again. But couldn't she feel his love, was it not good enough for her to love him back. She had almost shut him out of her life. From being in his arms she had gone back to try and fight the battle on her own. Where did that leave him?
He got angry, he got depressed. He felt like killing himself, but couldn't there were others who loved him who would be shattered if he did that. He lived, like the living dead. He went to his office he did his work, but there was no longer any point to it. No dreams to make him wake up in the morning and go out and get them. His dream was miles away in Chennai, in an office, busy at work.
She had to win this award she thought. This would be the sign she had always been waiting for. She would show Abhyut what she was made of, that bastard. All those years that she had wasted on him, all her happiness he had ruined. She was going to take that award right from under his nose! The excitment and tension left a pain in her feet. why was she wearing those four inch heels she thought to herself, if only he could have been here he would had made everything alright, he would hold her feet in his hands and tell her nice things.
"Madam, madam" She woke up to the sound of the peon. "Are you asleep madam, should i bring you filter coffee madam"
She had fallen asleep, she smiled at the peon, an old gentleman "Naheen, Rameshwar Kaka, thank you" she also wanted him out of the room. She felt wet between her legs. She thought of going to the washroom (being the boss, she had one in her own cabin) but then she let it be, she liked the feel of his thoughts. She put her specs back on and went back to work.
Later in the evening she felt like calling him, but didn't, she was afraid of his questions. She was afraid of her own questions. Why was she still with her husband. They had stopped being a couple long time back. Whenever she was in US they slept in different rooms. He never came to India cause he didn't want his parents to find out. Probably that, probably because it would be messy and she wanted to avoid anymore grief in her life. She was ok like this, dying one day at a time.
But her hands belied her thoughts "I miss you baby" she texted. It had been eight weeks.
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
She woke up in the morning, pressed the button hot black coffee filled her mug. She moved to his room, his door was wide open, the bed was made, everything was neat just like the day he had come. There was a note on the bed and a box of chocolates "Hope everything's in order, have moved shifted to hotel, enjoy the chocolates :)"
She sat on the bed, silent. She thought about yesterday, how happy they were, then the phone call. Why had she gone back to her room, why, she might as well have stayed
with him, it would have been a happy night, why had she let that phone call spoil it for them, felt the warmth of the coffee in her hands and realized how used to she had gotten to having coffee ready for her, she had gotten used to his love. She slid down onto the floor and sat with her back against the bed. Looking up at the ceiling she wondered if he had been right about the author. Then she cried.She didn't call him that day, nor the day after. He messaged her once but she let it pass. Almost a week later he called in the evening, the parents were in the house, she couldn't take the call. He texted "going back to gurgaon, done with my client meetings here, watz troubling you baby, we'll work everything out". A tear filled her eye, she opened a bottle of wine.
She drowned herself in work, work had always been her savior, it blocked out all the other questions in her mind.
She was in a happy mood, it was a saturday, she had cooked south indian for the parents, a deal had just gotten closed. She had heard she was in the reckoning for entrepreneur of the year award, she had bought a new pair of shoes. She called him. It had been three weeks.
"Hi" in her low voice
"Hey" he replied back
And then they talked, they talked and they talked.
"Baby, its been three weeks, you okay? watz kept you away so long, i missed ya"
"I'll make it up to you baby i promise, don't ask me questions please, please" her voice half cried half begged and he cursed himself for managing to do it again.
But two weeks, five smses and 3 missed calls later he wondered. He didn't know what to do. She was his heroine, he found it hard to breathe, hard to live. Unlike her he was a dreamer and he didn't dream about too many things. He sat and wrote Rehaana's story, but each word passed through his heart like a dagger. He knew she was afraid, afraid of being happy, afraid of taking a decision, afraid the pain would begin all over again. But couldn't she feel his love, was it not good enough for her to love him back. She had almost shut him out of her life. From being in his arms she had gone back to try and fight the battle on her own. Where did that leave him?
He got angry, he got depressed. He felt like killing himself, but couldn't there were others who loved him who would be shattered if he did that. He lived, like the living dead. He went to his office he did his work, but there was no longer any point to it. No dreams to make him wake up in the morning and go out and get them. His dream was miles away in Chennai, in an office, busy at work.
She had to win this award she thought. This would be the sign she had always been waiting for. She would show Abhyut what she was made of, that bastard. All those years that she had wasted on him, all her happiness he had ruined. She was going to take that award right from under his nose! The excitment and tension left a pain in her feet. why was she wearing those four inch heels she thought to herself, if only he could have been here he would had made everything alright, he would hold her feet in his hands and tell her nice things.
"Madam, madam" She woke up to the sound of the peon. "Are you asleep madam, should i bring you filter coffee madam"
She had fallen asleep, she smiled at the peon, an old gentleman "Naheen, Rameshwar Kaka, thank you" she also wanted him out of the room. She felt wet between her legs. She thought of going to the washroom (being the boss, she had one in her own cabin) but then she let it be, she liked the feel of his thoughts. She put her specs back on and went back to work.
Later in the evening she felt like calling him, but didn't, she was afraid of his questions. She was afraid of her own questions. Why was she still with her husband. They had stopped being a couple long time back. Whenever she was in US they slept in different rooms. He never came to India cause he didn't want his parents to find out. Probably that, probably because it would be messy and she wanted to avoid anymore grief in her life. She was ok like this, dying one day at a time.
But her hands belied her thoughts "I miss you baby" she texted. It had been eight weeks.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Rehaana - part 12 - her fear
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
The next morning she woke up early, he was fast asleep. She sat up and looked at him sleep. She fixed herself some coffe and came back, she sat next to him on the chair and saw him sleep. There was something about watching him sleep that brought her a calm. She didn't realize that she did like mornings.
He half opened an eye and saw her sitting next to him. He held out his hand to her, she kept her coffee on the side table and held out her hand to him. He pulled her in and she sat on top of his torso, legs on either side. He held her by the waist.
"There are some days, you open your eyes and realize you are in heaven, this is one of those"
She smiled at him,bent down and gave a slow lingering kiss. "I don't wanna go to work today" she said
"Then don't, neither will I"
"I have to, loads to be done"
He looked at her sitting there on top, and realized she was very beautiful, not that he hadn't noticed this before, but this was a different look, a different kind of appreciation, a different kind of thirst
He flipped her over and now he was on top. She looked at him, her breath getting deep in expectation
Through her nightgown he could see her nipples stand and he bit down on the right one
"Aaah" she went and pushed him back "First you get frisky in the morning and then u bite down so hard, no kissing,no cuddling, violent you are"
"All those phone calls you didn't make, all the time when you were to busy to talk to me, you think you were gonna go unpunished" He had her arms pinned to the side "You still think you need to go to work today?"
"Sometimes i feel scared of you, you push me beyond comfort and worse I can't seem to resist it or hold back"
"I like to smell your fear, you are my prey..."
"So are you gonna only be talking talking talking, then i might as well go to office only na"
He grinned at her and dove back in. For two hours what went in there is difficult for me to tell, who was kissing whom, who was biting whom, how did the pillow fight start, how they ended up in the shower. The thing is she didn't end up going to office. Heck they were so tired that they had fallen asleep again and woke up at noon hungry like ravenous vultures.
They ate bread and cheese spread, watched tv and slept again. In the evening they went jogging together. Later she took him for something special, very few people had been invited for this particular acitvity. This she mostly did alone, didn't even take her gal pals along, but he was special, she wanted him along. She had for the past few years been afraid of wanting openly, but now they were all coming back, she was learning to feel what it was to want again. She took him shoe shopping.
They went shop to shop. He didn't let any of the shop boys get near her feet, he didn't let her get near her feet. She rejected 20 pairs, he 40. Finally after three hours of trying on pairs they had gotten her a purple velvet cover kitten heel peep toe pump, a strappy sandal with a wedge heel and a very kinky looking black peep toe pump with metal studs and on the sides and a steel heel. "Don't you want anything" she asked
"Are you crazy" he said "I hate shopping for myself, the only thing I like to shop for are toys, electricals and food"
She gave him a peck on the cheek. "What did you like the most in the last three hours that we shopped"
"Your smile" he said "and yeah that baby who was playing with the shop salesmen, cute lil bugger"
laughing , hugging they got back. The phone was ringing as they opened the door. Whoever calls on landline these days! She spoke on the phone.
"His parents are coming back day after"
"Oh ok" [silence] "cool then, before you go senti again what movie are we watching tonight?" But he knew he had lost her, the smile had gone, how he wished she would give this part of herself up and trust in him to make things ok.
That night after dinner she went back to her room, the door was again closed.
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
The next morning she woke up early, he was fast asleep. She sat up and looked at him sleep. She fixed herself some coffe and came back, she sat next to him on the chair and saw him sleep. There was something about watching him sleep that brought her a calm. She didn't realize that she did like mornings.
He half opened an eye and saw her sitting next to him. He held out his hand to her, she kept her coffee on the side table and held out her hand to him. He pulled her in and she sat on top of his torso, legs on either side. He held her by the waist.
"There are some days, you open your eyes and realize you are in heaven, this is one of those"
She smiled at him,bent down and gave a slow lingering kiss. "I don't wanna go to work today" she said
"Then don't, neither will I"
"I have to, loads to be done"
He looked at her sitting there on top, and realized she was very beautiful, not that he hadn't noticed this before, but this was a different look, a different kind of appreciation, a different kind of thirst
He flipped her over and now he was on top. She looked at him, her breath getting deep in expectation
Through her nightgown he could see her nipples stand and he bit down on the right one
"Aaah" she went and pushed him back "First you get frisky in the morning and then u bite down so hard, no kissing,no cuddling, violent you are"
"All those phone calls you didn't make, all the time when you were to busy to talk to me, you think you were gonna go unpunished" He had her arms pinned to the side "You still think you need to go to work today?"
"Sometimes i feel scared of you, you push me beyond comfort and worse I can't seem to resist it or hold back"
"I like to smell your fear, you are my prey..."
"So are you gonna only be talking talking talking, then i might as well go to office only na"
He grinned at her and dove back in. For two hours what went in there is difficult for me to tell, who was kissing whom, who was biting whom, how did the pillow fight start, how they ended up in the shower. The thing is she didn't end up going to office. Heck they were so tired that they had fallen asleep again and woke up at noon hungry like ravenous vultures.
They ate bread and cheese spread, watched tv and slept again. In the evening they went jogging together. Later she took him for something special, very few people had been invited for this particular acitvity. This she mostly did alone, didn't even take her gal pals along, but he was special, she wanted him along. She had for the past few years been afraid of wanting openly, but now they were all coming back, she was learning to feel what it was to want again. She took him shoe shopping.
They went shop to shop. He didn't let any of the shop boys get near her feet, he didn't let her get near her feet. She rejected 20 pairs, he 40. Finally after three hours of trying on pairs they had gotten her a purple velvet cover kitten heel peep toe pump, a strappy sandal with a wedge heel and a very kinky looking black peep toe pump with metal studs and on the sides and a steel heel. "Don't you want anything" she asked
"Are you crazy" he said "I hate shopping for myself, the only thing I like to shop for are toys, electricals and food"
She gave him a peck on the cheek. "What did you like the most in the last three hours that we shopped"
"Your smile" he said "and yeah that baby who was playing with the shop salesmen, cute lil bugger"
laughing , hugging they got back. The phone was ringing as they opened the door. Whoever calls on landline these days! She spoke on the phone.
"His parents are coming back day after"
"Oh ok" [silence] "cool then, before you go senti again what movie are we watching tonight?" But he knew he had lost her, the smile had gone, how he wished she would give this part of herself up and trust in him to make things ok.
That night after dinner she went back to her room, the door was again closed.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Rehaana - part 11 - The conversation
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
that night they both watched a movie together, not that she let him watch t
he movie. it was like she had suddenly turned into a first grader, a chatterbox first grader, yap yap yap she went and he listened to her, filling in a few words where she paused for breath. She thought she had the whole night to keep yapping, she was used to sleeping late. That night though was different, she had found the perfect pillow, his shoulder, she didn't even know when she fell asleep.
But he lay awake, her head on his chest, his left arm wrapping around her, holding her close as she lay deep asleep
"Whatz going on?"
"What do you mean, whatz going on" the author asked
"You know what I mean"
"You'd be surprised at how much I don't know"
"We are people you know, not just your characters"
"Now you are really beating about the bush, you wanna say something say it"
"You have been making this way too sweet"
"Eh?"
"Don't eh me. The run in at the succesful run in at the coffee shop, the phone calls, calling me over to her place,you just made everything so sweet"
"Did I"
"Didn't you...in real life thousand things could happen, you really think that if this were real life, she would've let me give her a foot rub so easily?, but she did, she did cause you wrote it this way"
"Hmm, me or her? is a question you'll always keep wondering about. When you got the coffee mixture wrong, she left you a note. She let you know she liked what you were doing and how you could do it better to make her smile. She could have as well shouted out at you that if you didn't know how to make coffee why make an ass out of yourself when she hadn't even asked for it"
"And then the getting up in the morning to cook me breakfast, when she hates early mornings"
"So now you have a patent on making sacrifices or doing things for the people you care for...she's not permitted to do things that she knows will make you smile?"
"You can't dodge me, i'm onto you, you're making everything sound so easy and romantic, like in a book, like everything in life works out so easy"
"Easy? dude, she's had a bad scarring event, she's married and even though she's now resting in your arms carelessly, she's still afraid of being happy, if you think I've made things easy then I'd say you're just showing off"
"Are you saying you haven't made this bookishly romantic, stuff that would make people go 'awww how sweet' "
"Are you saying that it is not possible for people to make things bookishly romantic in their lives, that they have to end up messing it up"
"Dude, its so hard for me at times to know what i want or expect, kind of dicey thinking somebody will always know what i want, be able to understand and appreciate it and on top of that i be able to do that back...everytime....romance and love are not picture perfect, if life were so, they would be so.
I quote from the movie bruce almighty
God: Parting your soup is not a miracle Bruce, it's a magic trick. A single mom who's working two jobs, and still finds time to take her son to soccer practice, that's a miracle. A teenager who says "no" to drugs and "yes" to an education, that's a miracle. People want me to do everything for them. What they don't realize is *they* have the power. You want to see a miracle, son? Be the miracle.
Same for love i'd say"
"hmm"
"what hmm?"
[silence]
"allo"
[silence]
"bastard"
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - part 10 - The fort falls
that night they both watched a movie together, not that she let him watch t
he movie. it was like she had suddenly turned into a first grader, a chatterbox first grader, yap yap yap she went and he listened to her, filling in a few words where she paused for breath. She thought she had the whole night to keep yapping, she was used to sleeping late. That night though was different, she had found the perfect pillow, his shoulder, she didn't even know when she fell asleep.But he lay awake, her head on his chest, his left arm wrapping around her, holding her close as she lay deep asleep
"Whatz going on?"
"What do you mean, whatz going on" the author asked
"You know what I mean"
"You'd be surprised at how much I don't know"
"We are people you know, not just your characters"
"Now you are really beating about the bush, you wanna say something say it"
"You have been making this way too sweet"
"Eh?"
"Don't eh me. The run in at the succesful run in at the coffee shop, the phone calls, calling me over to her place,you just made everything so sweet"
"Did I"
"Didn't you...in real life thousand things could happen, you really think that if this were real life, she would've let me give her a foot rub so easily?, but she did, she did cause you wrote it this way"
"Hmm, me or her? is a question you'll always keep wondering about. When you got the coffee mixture wrong, she left you a note. She let you know she liked what you were doing and how you could do it better to make her smile. She could have as well shouted out at you that if you didn't know how to make coffee why make an ass out of yourself when she hadn't even asked for it"
"And then the getting up in the morning to cook me breakfast, when she hates early mornings"
"So now you have a patent on making sacrifices or doing things for the people you care for...she's not permitted to do things that she knows will make you smile?"
"You can't dodge me, i'm onto you, you're making everything sound so easy and romantic, like in a book, like everything in life works out so easy"
"Easy? dude, she's had a bad scarring event, she's married and even though she's now resting in your arms carelessly, she's still afraid of being happy, if you think I've made things easy then I'd say you're just showing off"
"Are you saying you haven't made this bookishly romantic, stuff that would make people go 'awww how sweet' "
"Are you saying that it is not possible for people to make things bookishly romantic in their lives, that they have to end up messing it up"
"Dude, its so hard for me at times to know what i want or expect, kind of dicey thinking somebody will always know what i want, be able to understand and appreciate it and on top of that i be able to do that back...everytime....romance and love are not picture perfect, if life were so, they would be so.
I quote from the movie bruce almighty
God: Parting your soup is not a miracle Bruce, it's a magic trick. A single mom who's working two jobs, and still finds time to take her son to soccer practice, that's a miracle. A teenager who says "no" to drugs and "yes" to an education, that's a miracle. People want me to do everything for them. What they don't realize is *they* have the power. You want to see a miracle, son? Be the miracle.
Same for love i'd say"
"hmm"
"what hmm?"
[silence]
"allo"
[silence]
"bastard"
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Rehaana - part 10 - the fort falls
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
The next morning when he got back from his jog there was a surprise waiting for him. She was there sitting at table sipping her black coffee. There was a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, an omlette and toasted bread waiting for him.
"I thought you weren't a morning person"
"I'm not" she said with a twinkling smile
"The omlette's nice, just the way i like it, juicy but yet nicely cooked and firm, not too spicey but not bland either, just the right touch, you've got magic in your hands"
She kept the paper down, held her hands out, turned and twisted them, like one would adore a piece of jewellery...."really...magic...really" she said teasingly
He chuckled "yeah magic"
She smiled, it was his unashamed admiration of her that got her, it was something that made her conscious of herself and yet at the same time it left a glowing feeling within her. Was this real she wondered. He saw her as her expression turned from smile to spaced out. He could understand the her anguish. He could understand why she felt afraid of being happy. He wanted to hold her and tell her that he was there, he would protect her, he would take care of her, but he couldn't not just yet. Right now all he could do was eat his omlette, smile and hide his pain inside.
She didn't text that night. That night both the Rehaanas were playing with themselves. One just starting to learn about her body another starting to remember how her body could feel.
The next morning as he was going for his jog he found her door ajar. This was majorly out of the ordinary. Never, never had he seen her door open. He wasn't sure what he shoul
d do, but as if driven by a force calling him in his hand got a grip on the round door knob and he opened into fairy world. It was a pretty room. There was a book stand towards the right, a whole wall was a shoe rack, but it wasn't an ordinary shoe rack. It was as if the shoe rack had been designed for a shop showroom. There were different angles and places cut out into the shoe wall so to say and each shoe had a small light highlighting it.She evidently really really loved her shoes.
The ceiling had been painted as a night sky, the curtains were white with doves watermarked into them and amdist all this she lay, his little fairy on her huge double bed. He moved closer to her bed, he wanted to see her sleep. Her face was uncovered. She looked so pretty, calmyly sleeping, like a baby. Her specs lay on the book she had been reading the night before.
She blinked his eyes at him then she turned the other side and continued sleeping. He still stood there, just looking at her. She turned back again in a few moments, again blinked her eyes. "Kiss me"
It was his turn to be caught of guard. But he was quick with comebacks. Surprised, unsure he moved towards her.
"Noooooo" she said like a baby, raised her foot and said "kisssy"
He smiled, huge smile, the kind of smile you give when your baby calls you papa for the first time. He held her foot gently in his hand and kissed the top surface, then he kissed the big toe and each of the small toes. Her sleepy eyes closed and her face lit up in a smile. She pulled up the covers onto her face. He spent quite a few minutes kissing her foot softly, deeply and then slowly kept it down and made his exit.
He left for the day, she got up lazily that day. Today she was smiling and somehow she didn't feel herself going back into the spaced out mode. She could actually wonder about it. She felt free, a freedom to be happy. She enjoyed her shower, like a child she played under the shower's cold rain, she laughed, didn't know at what, but she laughed a lot.
Ofcourse the moment she hit office, all of that was zapped away. A strike at one of the vendors factories was holding up critical material delaying her entire order from getting ready. All their contracts were European and there if you didn't deliver the batch on time, you were royally screwed, both in terms of the current contract and in terms of the future business prospects. Suddenly as if everything she had built was hinging on today.
She called left right and center. Tried to see if she could help the strike get sorted out, find an alternative vendor at a short notice, anything. Help came at the end of the day from the least expected quarter. Her client called. "We heard that the carvers there down south are all on strike, just wanted you to know we have enough stock till next month. So don't worry, get the thing sorted out, you have a three week extension to the delivery date" She sank back into her chair, she didn't know if there was a god, but she just thanked out loud for whoever was looking out for her.
She reached home at 11 in the night. He opened the door and she fell into his arms and hugged him tight.
He hugged her back, he could feel all her stress and straing in her tiny body.
He had waited for the day he could hold her in his arms. And now that she was, a kind of fear set in for a moment. Its ok while you're flirting to show her the man you are, that she can trust in you. It is only when she does, that you feel the weight of the responsibility. Its only when you hold your little baby for the first time in your hands that a boy, becomes a man.
He pulled her in tight, engulfing her in his arms, his head on top of hers. She was his baby and he was going to take care of her. The fort had fallen, but a nagging feeling didn't seem to leave the back of his mind.
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
The next morning when he got back from his jog there was a surprise waiting for him. She was there sitting at table sipping her black coffee. There was a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, an omlette and toasted bread waiting for him.
"I thought you weren't a morning person"
"I'm not" she said with a twinkling smile
"The omlette's nice, just the way i like it, juicy but yet nicely cooked and firm, not too spicey but not bland either, just the right touch, you've got magic in your hands"
She kept the paper down, held her hands out, turned and twisted them, like one would adore a piece of jewellery...."really...magic...really" she said teasingly
He chuckled "yeah magic"
She smiled, it was his unashamed admiration of her that got her, it was something that made her conscious of herself and yet at the same time it left a glowing feeling within her. Was this real she wondered. He saw her as her expression turned from smile to spaced out. He could understand the her anguish. He could understand why she felt afraid of being happy. He wanted to hold her and tell her that he was there, he would protect her, he would take care of her, but he couldn't not just yet. Right now all he could do was eat his omlette, smile and hide his pain inside.
She didn't text that night. That night both the Rehaanas were playing with themselves. One just starting to learn about her body another starting to remember how her body could feel.
The next morning as he was going for his jog he found her door ajar. This was majorly out of the ordinary. Never, never had he seen her door open. He wasn't sure what he shoul
d do, but as if driven by a force calling him in his hand got a grip on the round door knob and he opened into fairy world. It was a pretty room. There was a book stand towards the right, a whole wall was a shoe rack, but it wasn't an ordinary shoe rack. It was as if the shoe rack had been designed for a shop showroom. There were different angles and places cut out into the shoe wall so to say and each shoe had a small light highlighting it.She evidently really really loved her shoes.The ceiling had been painted as a night sky, the curtains were white with doves watermarked into them and amdist all this she lay, his little fairy on her huge double bed. He moved closer to her bed, he wanted to see her sleep. Her face was uncovered. She looked so pretty, calmyly sleeping, like a baby. Her specs lay on the book she had been reading the night before.
She blinked his eyes at him then she turned the other side and continued sleeping. He still stood there, just looking at her. She turned back again in a few moments, again blinked her eyes. "Kiss me"
It was his turn to be caught of guard. But he was quick with comebacks. Surprised, unsure he moved towards her.
"Noooooo" she said like a baby, raised her foot and said "kisssy"
He smiled, huge smile, the kind of smile you give when your baby calls you papa for the first time. He held her foot gently in his hand and kissed the top surface, then he kissed the big toe and each of the small toes. Her sleepy eyes closed and her face lit up in a smile. She pulled up the covers onto her face. He spent quite a few minutes kissing her foot softly, deeply and then slowly kept it down and made his exit.
He left for the day, she got up lazily that day. Today she was smiling and somehow she didn't feel herself going back into the spaced out mode. She could actually wonder about it. She felt free, a freedom to be happy. She enjoyed her shower, like a child she played under the shower's cold rain, she laughed, didn't know at what, but she laughed a lot.
Ofcourse the moment she hit office, all of that was zapped away. A strike at one of the vendors factories was holding up critical material delaying her entire order from getting ready. All their contracts were European and there if you didn't deliver the batch on time, you were royally screwed, both in terms of the current contract and in terms of the future business prospects. Suddenly as if everything she had built was hinging on today.
She called left right and center. Tried to see if she could help the strike get sorted out, find an alternative vendor at a short notice, anything. Help came at the end of the day from the least expected quarter. Her client called. "We heard that the carvers there down south are all on strike, just wanted you to know we have enough stock till next month. So don't worry, get the thing sorted out, you have a three week extension to the delivery date" She sank back into her chair, she didn't know if there was a god, but she just thanked out loud for whoever was looking out for her.
She reached home at 11 in the night. He opened the door and she fell into his arms and hugged him tight.
He hugged her back, he could feel all her stress and straing in her tiny body.
He had waited for the day he could hold her in his arms. And now that she was, a kind of fear set in for a moment. Its ok while you're flirting to show her the man you are, that she can trust in you. It is only when she does, that you feel the weight of the responsibility. Its only when you hold your little baby for the first time in your hands that a boy, becomes a man.
He pulled her in tight, engulfing her in his arms, his head on top of hers. She was his baby and he was going to take care of her. The fort had fallen, but a nagging feeling didn't seem to leave the back of his mind.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Rehaana - part 9 - The Mojito
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
She cooked the dinner that night. She had debated between exquisite conti and simple Indian. While she was biased in favor of conti her instinct told her Indian would be better appreciated that night. She made aloo gobi (potatoes and cauliflower), matar pulao (boiled rice with green peas) and kheera raita (beaten curd wuth cucumber)
He had gone out to catch up with some work friends over tennis. As he entered the house, the waft of fresh dhaniya caught his attention and like a dog following a bone he headed for the kitchen. There she was, her back towards him, at the small, round, kitchen table, reading a book, her feet up on the table while the gobi simmered in its own juices.
He didn't realize that he was just standing there...
"So you practising to be a stalker now"
"Weren't you supposed to not have eyes at the back of your head"
"I don't, but when the aroma of the kitchen suddenly turns to sweaty, it becomes hard to ignore"
"Yeah, I better go take a shower...you cook nice btw, I can tell by the aroma"
She smiled...
At the dinner table...
"So what's happening in Rehaana's world?"
"Her grandparents are transfering her to the School's Delhi branch, her teachers say that she's very bright and she should get more facilities that they don't have here"
"How will her grandparents manage, how will the little kiddo manage"
He could sense the tension in her voice, he could see the lines on her forehead, her breath going shallow and fast.
"Shhhh" he tried to calm her down...."Its ok, she's a wildflower, its emotionally a trying time for all of them, but also an exciting time, she's actually looking forward to it"
Something about his voice reassured her, she felt uneasy, there was something about him that controlled her, something she wanted to revolt against, something that made her feel comfortable
They again ended up texting that night, but he conked out by 12, he had to leave for work by 7 in the morning and he needed his sleep.
In the morning when she woke up, she found the coffee maker already ready, all she had to do was press the pour button. The coffee was slightly weaker than she liked, but she was still smiling. They spoke on phone during the day, but she didn't bring up the coffee thing.
The next morning when he woke up he found a note at the coffee machine, "exactly two measures of the grounded beans, please". He smiled.
that day didn't go well for her though, she didn't call, she didn't reply to his sms. She was one who got the tension bug very easily. He wished he could do something to help her, her being uneasy made him very uneasy, very uneasy.
He reached back at 9:30, he had a long day of meetings and post meeting documentation and then the gym. She was still not back. "Busy?" he texted, "Still at office" she texted back.
He took to the apron and tossed up some pasta, desi style with lots of garlic, lots of black pepper. He didnt like pasta in cream base much, he was the tomato base guy. He debated between wine based cocktails and something stronger. Not wine he thought, not today. A few mint leaves,a few slices of lemon, a little bit of sugar later, half a Pitcher of Mojito was ready (the next day was working, more than half, would make work very very fun, too fun perhaps :P )
She came home all tired, all burnt up. She just shrug off her laptop from her shoulder and plopped down on the couch. She didn't even have the strength to say hi. He handed her a glass of mojito. She didn't sip, ladylike, she gulped gulped down the concotion. It was only after the third gulp she took a breather.
"This is nice" she said "Thanks". He smiled
"My feet are killing me" she said taking of her four inch black peep toe pumps.
"And I can imagine why, but they are a beautiful pair"
"Yes, ain't they so pretty" like a little girl adoring her dolls
"May I" he asked
She was hesitant, and confused. This guy kept coming up with things at such a pace that scared her.
He could sense her hesitancy, Its like befriending a new dog. You've got to let it sniff you so you extend the back of your palm towards it, but no sudden actions or it will bite. So he slowly bent down and lifted her leg onto his lap. The first touch of his fingers onto the sole of her foot and she almost let out a moan. Slowly he worked her sole using his finger ends to press on the pressure points, using the base of his pal
m to knead her tired muscles.
She sat back and enjoyed the pampering. His massage and the fine mojito got her back into her chirpy flirty mode. "You are getting yourself into a very dicey area, you maybe called upon to fulfill this duty again"
"With pleasure" he replied in a very easy tone
"Oh really, you sure, i may not be in a chirpy mode everytime, it could be in public, my feet could be sweaty"
He pressed his thumb into her pressure point
"aaaaaahhhh" she went
"so you were saying"
"let go, let go , i swear i'll kill you"
"you were saying"
"nothing nothing, let go"
he eased the pressure of and she felt like a wave of peace had come over her, man was he good
"It will be a pleasure" he said pouring her and himself another round of mojito
She just looked at him..."you ready for dinner?"
"Dinner?"
"Yes I tossed up some light pasta"
"I feel like a princess now" she gushed
"you are one"
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
She cooked the dinner that night. She had debated between exquisite conti and simple Indian. While she was biased in favor of conti her instinct told her Indian would be better appreciated that night. She made aloo gobi (potatoes and cauliflower), matar pulao (boiled rice with green peas) and kheera raita (beaten curd wuth cucumber)
He had gone out to catch up with some work friends over tennis. As he entered the house, the waft of fresh dhaniya caught his attention and like a dog following a bone he headed for the kitchen. There she was, her back towards him, at the small, round, kitchen table, reading a book, her feet up on the table while the gobi simmered in its own juices.
He didn't realize that he was just standing there...
"So you practising to be a stalker now"
"Weren't you supposed to not have eyes at the back of your head"
"I don't, but when the aroma of the kitchen suddenly turns to sweaty, it becomes hard to ignore"
"Yeah, I better go take a shower...you cook nice btw, I can tell by the aroma"
She smiled...
At the dinner table...
"So what's happening in Rehaana's world?"
"Her grandparents are transfering her to the School's Delhi branch, her teachers say that she's very bright and she should get more facilities that they don't have here"
"How will her grandparents manage, how will the little kiddo manage"
He could sense the tension in her voice, he could see the lines on her forehead, her breath going shallow and fast.
"Shhhh" he tried to calm her down...."Its ok, she's a wildflower, its emotionally a trying time for all of them, but also an exciting time, she's actually looking forward to it"
Something about his voice reassured her, she felt uneasy, there was something about him that controlled her, something she wanted to revolt against, something that made her feel comfortable
They again ended up texting that night, but he conked out by 12, he had to leave for work by 7 in the morning and he needed his sleep.
In the morning when she woke up, she found the coffee maker already ready, all she had to do was press the pour button. The coffee was slightly weaker than she liked, but she was still smiling. They spoke on phone during the day, but she didn't bring up the coffee thing.
The next morning when he woke up he found a note at the coffee machine, "exactly two measures of the grounded beans, please". He smiled.
that day didn't go well for her though, she didn't call, she didn't reply to his sms. She was one who got the tension bug very easily. He wished he could do something to help her, her being uneasy made him very uneasy, very uneasy.
He reached back at 9:30, he had a long day of meetings and post meeting documentation and then the gym. She was still not back. "Busy?" he texted, "Still at office" she texted back.
He took to the apron and tossed up some pasta, desi style with lots of garlic, lots of black pepper. He didnt like pasta in cream base much, he was the tomato base guy. He debated between wine based cocktails and something stronger. Not wine he thought, not today. A few mint leaves,a few slices of lemon, a little bit of sugar later, half a Pitcher of Mojito was ready (the next day was working, more than half, would make work very very fun, too fun perhaps :P )
She came home all tired, all burnt up. She just shrug off her laptop from her shoulder and plopped down on the couch. She didn't even have the strength to say hi. He handed her a glass of mojito. She didn't sip, ladylike, she gulped gulped down the concotion. It was only after the third gulp she took a breather.
"This is nice" she said "Thanks". He smiled
"My feet are killing me" she said taking of her four inch black peep toe pumps.
"And I can imagine why, but they are a beautiful pair"
"Yes, ain't they so pretty" like a little girl adoring her dolls
"May I" he asked
She was hesitant, and confused. This guy kept coming up with things at such a pace that scared her.
He could sense her hesitancy, Its like befriending a new dog. You've got to let it sniff you so you extend the back of your palm towards it, but no sudden actions or it will bite. So he slowly bent down and lifted her leg onto his lap. The first touch of his fingers onto the sole of her foot and she almost let out a moan. Slowly he worked her sole using his finger ends to press on the pressure points, using the base of his pal
m to knead her tired muscles.She sat back and enjoyed the pampering. His massage and the fine mojito got her back into her chirpy flirty mode. "You are getting yourself into a very dicey area, you maybe called upon to fulfill this duty again"
"With pleasure" he replied in a very easy tone
"Oh really, you sure, i may not be in a chirpy mode everytime, it could be in public, my feet could be sweaty"
He pressed his thumb into her pressure point
"aaaaaahhhh" she went
"so you were saying"
"let go, let go , i swear i'll kill you"
"you were saying"
"nothing nothing, let go"
he eased the pressure of and she felt like a wave of peace had come over her, man was he good
"It will be a pleasure" he said pouring her and himself another round of mojito
She just looked at him..."you ready for dinner?"
"Dinner?"
"Yes I tossed up some light pasta"
"I feel like a princess now" she gushed
"you are one"
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Rehaana - part 8 - Buon giorno Principessa
Rehaana - the beginning
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
"I hope you remember your promise"
"Errr?"
"Of being a gentleman"
"Oh that, any other obvious statements you'd like to make" taking a light offence at her remark
"Hopefully not, just as long as you remember this one" She said with a smile, she knew her smile would take away any of the
hundred smart assy remarks he could come up with. She was a girl and she knew her powers.
It was a cosy room, a big cozy room, with its own LCD TV...gosh the rich had it nice he thought. They said their good nights.
Of course it would be too much to assume either of them slept, funnily though out of the ten movies playing on tv both ended
up watching 'about a boy', albeit in their own rooms.
Half an hour into the movie, he got an sms, "You awake? am watching this movie, 'About a Boy' on HBO"
"So am I, man now if only my pop had written a jingle"
"Imagine, getting up when you feel like, doing what you feel like, every day would be a new day"
"Yeah, though you know right now what I wish for"
"What?"
"Roasted Peanuts"
"Hmm...ok then say 'fairy princess, grant me a wish, fix me a snack, let there be roasted peanuts"
He smiled
"Buon giorno, Principessa! make my wish come true...let me have..." his fingers paused, he almost wrote something, "roasted
peanuts"
"The right side closet is a mini bar with a snack shelf, help yourself"
He could see her smile as she would have texted that message
they texted much into the night, lord only know who fell asleep first, but both had half written texts on their cells when
their lights went out.
His alarm went off at 5:30, Sunday. While he went for a jog every day of the week, Sunday's were different. On Sunday's there
were no deadlines. Sunday the jog was was more leasurly, he could soak in life and sunshine.
He passed by her bedroom. He slowed down and felt the door....smiled. He made his way to the kitchen, made her some
coffee...black. He left it at the newspaper table outside her door, covered in a tea-cozy.
He jogged easy that day, thinking about the previous night and smiling. The cup was still there when he came back...the door
was still closed. He took the cup back, emptied it into the sink, washed the cup and kept it back.
She woke up at 11, a lazy Sunday morning. She took the morning paper and sat down on the dining table. She smelt something
that made her realize that she was hungry, really hungry. It was something roasting, it was something rich, it was something
sweet.
He came out, tousled sweaty hair, red face, shorts, tee and apron. He had a plate in his hand. He set it in front of her.
Toast with thin layer of fresh cream, thinly sliced strawberry and strawberry crush.
She smiled, it was a wondeful Sunday morning.
Rehaana - part 2 - the twilight
Rehaana - part 3 - the phone call
Rehaana - part 4 - the first period
Rehaana - part 5 - the dreamer waits
Rehaana - part 6 - the homecoming
Rehaana - part 7 - Popcorn Confessions
"I hope you remember your promise"
"Errr?"
"Of being a gentleman"
"Oh that, any other obvious statements you'd like to make" taking a light offence at her remark
"Hopefully not, just as long as you remember this one" She said with a smile, she knew her smile would take away any of the
hundred smart assy remarks he could come up with. She was a girl and she knew her powers.
It was a cosy room, a big cozy room, with its own LCD TV...gosh the rich had it nice he thought. They said their good nights.
Of course it would be too much to assume either of them slept, funnily though out of the ten movies playing on tv both ended
up watching 'about a boy', albeit in their own rooms.
Half an hour into the movie, he got an sms, "You awake? am watching this movie, 'About a Boy' on HBO"
"So am I, man now if only my pop had written a jingle"
"Imagine, getting up when you feel like, doing what you feel like, every day would be a new day"
"Yeah, though you know right now what I wish for"
"What?"
"Roasted Peanuts"
"Hmm...ok then say 'fairy princess, grant me a wish, fix me a snack, let there be roasted peanuts"
He smiled
"Buon giorno, Principessa! make my wish come true...let me have..." his fingers paused, he almost wrote something, "roasted
peanuts"
"The right side closet is a mini bar with a snack shelf, help yourself"
He could see her smile as she would have texted that message
they texted much into the night, lord only know who fell asleep first, but both had half written texts on their cells when
their lights went out.
His alarm went off at 5:30, Sunday. While he went for a jog every day of the week, Sunday's were different. On Sunday's there
were no deadlines. Sunday the jog was was more leasurly, he could soak in life and sunshine.
He passed by her bedroom. He slowed down and felt the door....smiled. He made his way to the kitchen, made her some
coffee...black. He left it at the newspaper table outside her door, covered in a tea-cozy.
He jogged easy that day, thinking about the previous night and smiling. The cup was still there when he came back...the door
was still closed. He took the cup back, emptied it into the sink, washed the cup and kept it back.
She woke up at 11, a lazy Sunday morning. She took the morning paper and sat down on the dining table. She smelt something
that made her realize that she was hungry, really hungry. It was something roasting, it was something rich, it was something
sweet.
He came out, tousled sweaty hair, red face, shorts, tee and apron. He had a plate in his hand. He set it in front of her.
Toast with thin layer of fresh cream, thinly sliced strawberry and strawberry crush.
She smiled, it was a wondeful Sunday morning.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)