G mami's secret (715 words)

Ambujam mami knew almost everyone in the sprawling apartment complex She had the knack of befriending everyone with her pleasant conversation. Always well-dressed, she was a picture of grace wearing a smile on her face. She lived with her husband, who worked long hours, and their daughter, Sumitra, who also had an office job.

Alone and idle during the afternoons, Mami wandered the complex, gathering information by chatting with neighbours in the lobbies, play areas, or pathways. Twice daily, she took walks where she’d meet most of the residents. Nothing happened in the complex without her knowing—new tenants, pregnancies, children's schools, family disputes—she was aware of it all. This knack earned her the nickname "Gmami," with the "G" representing both her block and her gossiping nature. It wasn’t her fault, she believed, that she knew everything and occasionally shared it with others. Still, many residents tried to avoid her.

These days she had been noticing for the last few months every weekend, when she went out to visit relatives, a young man visiting the complex on his motorbike. Clad in jeans and colourful shirts, he looked muscular and quite handsome. What intrigued Gmami was that Renuka of E block rushed out every time that young man came in a motorbike and was seen talking to him in a corner of the community hall.

Renuka and Sumitra were close friends, having grown up together in the complex. Mami, however, was careful not to mention this to her daughter, fearing her disapproval of her snooping. But Mami couldn’t hold the secret and confided in a few other ladies. They confirmed her suspicion: Renuka was secretly meeting the young man, without her parents’ knowledge. Mami considered telling Renuka’s mother but decided against it, as the woman had never been particularly warm toward her.

Whenever Gmami was leaving the complex, Sumitra would invariably excuse herself from accompanying her pleading she had some work or needed rest. One Saturday when Gmami was leaving, she saw Renuka in animated conversation with that young man pointing at her and giggling with him. She could take no more of these nasty goings on and decided to tell her mom about their secret meetings.

The next Monday she took her close friend from the opposite apartment with her and went to Renuka’s house. Luckily Renuka was not at home. Her mom welcomed them warmly and said “What a pleasant surprise your visit is. I know you as Sumitra’s mom but we have never mingled much.”

After the initial pleasantries, Gmami said, “In fact, I wished to come earlier but was somewhat hesitant. I was not sure how you would react to the information that I wished to convey to you.”

“Why would I react? You can tell me freely without hesitation. I am eager to hear you,” the lady said.

“Please don’t take me amiss. Renuka is like my own daughter, Sumitra. But I thought you should know that Renuka has been meeting a young man near the community hall every weekend. They seem very close, and I wasn’t sure if you were aware.”

“Frankly I am not aware. Let me check with Renuka. We are a liberal family and would not object to her choosing her boyfriend and eventually even her partner. Since she hasn’t mentioned it, let me find out,” the lady said calmly.

It was then Renuka entered the house unexpectedly. Gmami was taken aback and started to get up. The lady restrained her asking her, “Please be seated. Let us ask Renuka in your presence. We will know the facts”

After hearing the situation, Renuka turned to Gmami and said, “Mami, brace yourself. That young man? He’s not meeting me; he’s meeting Sumitra. They’ve been dating for over a year. Every weekend, he checks with me to see if you’ve left so he can visit her. He spends an hour or two with her. We came to know very recently he had lied about his qualifications and his lowly job. Sumitra didn’t tell you because she knew you’d disapprove.”

Gmami sat in stunned silence. Sumitra? Her daughter? The woman who knew everyone’s secrets had missed the most important one in her own home. For once, she had no gossip to share—only unpleasant news to suffer in silence.

 

Doubly Lucky (1188 words)

 

Vinod had his account with the bank on the ground floor of his office building. It was manned entirely by ladies except for the security. He preferred frequent visits to the bank and rarely used an ATM or the credit card facility. The reason was not far to seek. It was the attraction of the charming lady teller who drew him like a treacle to an ant.

 She was around 27, quite efficient and business-like. Though she smiled, her answers to Vinod’s questions were professional and to the point. This did not deter him from trying to cultivate her. Unsolicited, he informed her that he worked in the same building and was an engineer in a good position. Sometimes he would talk about the weather and the overcast sky. She would just count the money and hand it over with a smile. But the pleasure of seeing her once daily was an adequate reward for the visit.

Vinod had gone with his mother to a book fair on a Sunday. It was a huge fair drawing a heavy crowd and on this day it was unmanageable. The weather was oppressive in the mid-summer. With poor ventilation and narrow corridors, it was smelly and hot. His mom bought some religious books while he went for cheap editions of old classics. It was nearing 8 pm and they had covered more than half the fair. Suddenly, they heard cries of ‘Fire, fire’ from one side and soon there was a mad scramble from the visitors for the exit gate even though smoke was coming from one corner. Soon the fire spread and engulfed larger areas.

 The unruly rush became a stampede near the exit and it was by luck that Vinod found an opening on the side to take his mother out. Someone had cut the power and the whole place was plunged into darkness. He could hear the bells of the fire engines rushing towards the different sides of the fair. In a short while the fire engines were dousing the fire and the shopkeepers' keepers were busy in salvaging the books. Most of the visitors had left except for idle and curious onlookers. There was utter confusion, smoke and shock

By the time he located his car in the darkness, it was 9 pm. As he got into the vehicle, his mother shrieked from the other side and said” Vinod, come here, I find a young girl lying on the ground near the door. “ She was about five years old and fast asleep. Separated from her guardians, she had strayed in the darkness to this place and fell into slumber.

“Mom, I will leave the child with some policeman. You be here. I will come soon” Vinod said

“No, it is a girl child and it is night time. It is not desirable to leave her with some policeman. The girl looks from a well-to-do family. Let us take her home and leave a message with our area police station that we have brought the child home and give our address and phone number. The missing parents would eventually find their way to us” she said.

The next day morning the little girl started crying when she woke up to the new surroundings. Vinod’s mom had gone to a temple. The child could only reveal her name as Purnima but could not tell precisely the location of her house though she gave the name of her play school. Vinod decided to take the girl to the school when the phone rang. It was from the police station informing that the girl’s mother was coming to Vinod’s house along with a policeman. The girl was tidied up, and given milk and some toys to play with. Vinod was playing with her to keep her in good humour and the little girl took to him instantly.

The bell rang and the girl rushed to open the door. Can you guess who was there with the policeman? You did it right. None else than the teller at the bank in the building where Vinod worked. For a moment both were rendered speechless. It was broken when the girl rushed to the arms of the lady telling her, “ Mommy, uncle is so sweet but did not know how to play even in simple games.”

Both broke into laughter. “I am Vinod. Please come in. Mom should be here anytime from the temple. How did you miss her last evening at the book fair? Lucky that we could find your daughter sleeping last night near our car. Or should I say doubly lucky?” Vinod said smiling.

Meanwhile, his mother came and the policeman was thanked profusely and sent away with some money.

“I have no words to express adequately my gratitude. I am Archana. You did a very wise thing bringing her here and keeping her safe. I see you daily at the bank,” she said with a smile

“Mommy, can we take uncle with us to our home? I like him so much” the girl intervened

“Don’t worry Purnima, I intend to drop you both at your place and meet your daddy,” Vinod said

Her mom’s face fell. She said” My husband was killed at the Kashmir border three years ago. I am living alone with my daughter.”

“Oh, oh. I am extremely sorry,” he replied even as his mother put her arms around Archana and led her to the sofa even as Purnima snuggled in his arms.

When driving them home, he asked with a broad grin on his face,” Should I explain why I said doubly lucky if you have not guessed it already?”

She looked at him and made faces before breaking into a smile. A love was born.

As Vinod pulled up at Archana’s home, the quiet of the morning settled around them. Little Purnima had dozed off in the back seat, still clutching the toy Vinod had given her.

Archana looked at Vinod, her expression was soft yet uncertain. "I can’t thank you enough," she began, her voice halting for a moment, "for everything. If it weren’t for you, I—"

"Please," Vinod interrupted gently, "you don’t need to thank me. I think I’m the one who got lucky here." He flashed her a warm smile, but this time, it wasn’t the casual flirtation he usually showed at the bank. It was much deeper and sincere, and Archana could sense it.

For a moment, their eyes locked. The tension, the brief awkwardness, dissolved. "Lucky, huh?" she teased lightly, trying to break the moment.

Vinod chuckled softly. "Doubly lucky. I found your daughter safe… and I got to finally talk to you and know you."

Archana’s lips twitched into a smile with her eyes sparkling "Well," she replied, "I guess we're both lucky."

Vinod turned to face her and said, “I think this might just be the start of something even luckier.”

With a promise in the air of happier days ahead, they looked at each other for long with a knowing smile before he followed Archana into the house carrying Purnima in his sinewy arms.

The mysterious disappearance (1343 words)

(An interesting story that may keep you engrossed)
 It was raining heavily with staff members coming out of offices and seeking cover under the porticos of office buildings or shops.

“How about a hot coffee at the adjacent coffee shop?" asked Vittal to his good friend and colleague Shoba.

Seated in a corner of the coffee shop with coffee cups in their hands, Vittal looking at her intently said, “Are the ear studs new? The penguin-shaped one with a red stone fixed on it for the eye looks exquisite on your face.”

“Yes, I fell for it when I saw it. It is a new and unique design. I bought them yesterday at the mall,” replied Shoba. She readily agreed to Vittal’s wish and posed for a selfie with him that displayed the stud prominently.

” Shoba, I have been observing you for the past two weeks and notice a look of worry on your face. Are you keeping well with no health issues? I have not seen the usual smile for a long time. Tell me if there is any problem that I can help resolve.”

She kept quiet for a long time. When she did not answer, Vittal said, “Never mind, drink the coffee before it gets cold. The rain has subsided. We will make a move.”

“I am sorry Vittal. You are someone more than a friend and someone whom I could trust and in whom I could confide. Let me tell you in strict confidence what is bothering me. I have been dating secretly someone in our office for a year. You know him well as I have seen you both together often.”

“Did you say secretly dating? why should it be that way? A guy in our office known to me? How come I did not get a scent of it?” asked Vittal in a baffled tone.

“It is Vikram Arora in marketing. You must know him well.”

“Who will not know that dapper guy with his charming ways and flashy style. He is a close friend as we were classmates at IIT. Surprising, he has not uttered one word about you so far. I have heard friends telling me he is the heartthrob of many female employees. You are lucky he has chosen you. Why this veil of secrecy? If the friendship is open, it will keep others away from him. When are you both getting married?”

“It was at his insistence that I did not tell anyone and secretly met him in resorts and hotels on weekends. You know I have no parents or any close relatives here.”

“Such an amorous development should reflect joyfully in your face. Why this melancholy look then?” If you had confided in me earlier as a trusted friend, I would have advised you not get too close to him till the wedding is decided publicly. I know him well from his college days. Do not lower your guard. I would advise you, if you really love him, get married soonest.”

“Vittal, I am actually in trouble due to my foolishness in falling for his sweet talk. I explained to him the urgency of the marriage in the condition I am. His reaction is callous and irresponsible. He tells me it is my problem for not being careful and asks me to abort or get lost. He even has the cheek to tell he cannot marry every woman with whom he had slept,” confided a sobbing Shoba.

“I feared this response. What will you do now? Did you consult a doctor? Vittal asked her with concern

“I will not buckle that easily. I threatened him that I had proof of all his messages on my mobile phone and that I would lodge a complaint in the office and if needed go to the police. He got jittery and asked me to wait for two months when his sister would have been married and he would marry me immediately in a gala function.”

“If I were you. I would still get rid of the problem immediately. He is not trustworthy. Do what you think is best before it is too late for redemption, “ he consoled her.

“Do not worry. I can afford to wait for two months,” she assured.

Vittal left the next day on a long tour for nearly a month. He got immersed in work and did not think much of Shoba. He was once or twice concerned about Shoba and her relationship with that wily Vikram.

On the day he returned to the office, he was busy meeting senior bosses and in meetings. Only as the evening drew close, did he remember Shoba, he requested his secretary to get her on the intercom.

“Don’t you know, Sir, she stopped coming to the office two weeks after you left on tour? Our HR department’s efforts to trace her at her apartment failed as she was missing there also. She had left no message to people. The landlady had also complained to the police. Our legal office has also informed the police. So far they have drawn a blank with no clue of her whereabouts. Her mobile is switched off. We are all very much disturbed. She was pleasant and seemingly had no problem. She had no romantic interest to our knowledge,” replied the secretary.

When Vittal met Vikram the next day in the corridor, the latter betrayed no emotion. On the other hand, he hugged Vittal and asked, “Where had you gone? I was told you had gone on tour. I need your help this Sunday. I am shifting my house to another locality. I want you to be at my place to keep an eye on the things at my present place as I will be busy receiving things in the new house. The truck will carry the big packages like furniture, fridge and washing machine. We will take in our cars the costly electronic and delicate items finally.”

Though Vittal agreed readily, an irksome thought crossed his mind about the coincidence of the disappearance of Shoba and Vikram’s shifting to another apartment.

Next Sunday the truck carried all the heavy things to the new location. Some personal items, electronic items, and some expensive glass items were stacked in Vikram’s car and a few in Vittal’s. Both cars followed the truck and reached the new apartment. A few men were arranging heavy things inside the apartment at the proper places. Vittal called two men who were standing idle to take the  things from both cars carefully inside which they did.

When everyone was inside the apartment, Vittal cross-checked Vikram’s vehicle's boot to see if nothing had been left behind. It seemed. empty though it was dark inside. When he narrowed his eyes and looked hard, he saw something shining in one corner at the rear. Curiously, he pulled up the mat and saw to his shock, one penguin stud with red stone. There was a reddish-brown smear on one side of the stud. He took care not to touch it but made sure it was one of the pair he had seen on Shoba. He closed the boot even as Vikram came down with the labourers.

Vikram thanked him profusely before Vittal took leave calmly without revealing the horror of what he saw and his strong suspicion.

 He stopped on his way at a public booth, rang the Police emergency number 112 and said “Please listen carefully. Look for Honda City Car number DL XX XX XX**** at ..... apartments, Third Avenue, …..Bagh and check the rear end of the boot for a penguin-shaped ear stud smeared possibly with blood and connect it to the missing woman reported if any within the last fortnight. Do not waste a moment. Seize the car.You may lose the vital clue. You will get a photo of the missing woman with the stud very soon.”

“Hello what is your name, where are you speaking from? Can you please hold on for a moment?” asked an anxious voice from the other end only to hear a click of the phone being disconnected.

The Stranger’s Visit (1124 words)

Top of Form Bottom of Form

Anita disliked the old man who visited once a month. He was dressed shabbily with an unshaven face, protruding yellow teeth and an ash mark on his forehead.He wore the same blue shirt with slightly frayed collar. She wondered why her parents who belonged to the upper class allowed this man to come and sit in their elegant living room and entertain him with snacks and tea. He generally stayed for about 30 minutes.  Worse still, her parents made it a point that she was present as he came on the last Sunday of each month. Much to her chagrin, they would ask her to hand him over the snacks and tea. There was not much conversation except pleasantries and a few appreciative comments about Anita like her charming face, intelligence and knowledge of English from the old man.  As soon as she finished this routine, she would run to her room on the first floor to escape his presence. Once the old man ran his trembling hand on her hair as she placed tea before him. She recoiled in shock and said rather rudely. “Don’t touch me anymore.” His face fell and she could see the hurt in his eyes. But Anita did not care.  After he left, her parents rebuked her for her uncivil and rude manners. Her father in a gruff tone sternly said,” I am disappointed with you. I hate the way you insulted the old man who visits us at my request as my guest. You are hardly 16 and he is over 70. You should learn to respect elders.” She expected her mother to come to her support. But she said softly,” What you did today embarrassed us much. Do not judge people by their riches and good apparel. If we are in a comfortable position, it is by the grace of God but that does not give us the right to hurt those who are less fortunate.”  Anita, unable to suppress her tears, ran up the stairs and flung herself on her bed. She hated the old man more now.  It so happened that the next last Sunday of the month, her parents had to go out early in the morning leaving Anita behind with the female cook. Anita was watching the TV. It was around 11 am when she heard the doorbell. Peeping through the French window, she saw the old man standing outside. She said without opening the door, “My parents are not at home. They will be coming only late in the evening”  “Never mind, young girl,” he smiled and continued,” You are here and that is adequate. I come here to meet you also. Let me in,” he softly said with a smile. There was no trace of disappointment at her not opening the door initially.  “I told you my parents are not home. I am alone. Please go away” she said in an acerbic tone  The smile on his face faded away but with kindness still in his eyes, he said,” You are like my grandchild, Anita. I have come in the hot sun walking a long distance. Please allow me to rest a while. No harm would come to you by me,” he pleaded.  “Go away. Don’t you understand what I am telling you? Don’t call me by my name. I am not opening the door,” she said brusquely.”  The cook who heard the bell was standing near the kitchen door watching. The old man did not utter one word but silently turned and slowly walked away. Anita could see him wiping his eyes but she never cared  When her parents returned around 4 PM, her father asked Anita whether there were any telephone calls or visitors. She replied that none came except the old man. She rushed back to her room pleading some pressing work. When Anita’s mom enquired from the cook whether the old man was allowed to come in and was served tea and snacks, the parents came to know what had happened.  It was during dinner that the subject came up for discussion. Her father asked her why she had turned the old man out especially when she knew he was always entertained by him.  “I don’t like him. I hate his appearance, his tattered clothes and his ingratiating smile. He is a misfit in our bungalow. You cannot compel me to like him” she said defiantly.  “Shut up, you hot-headed girl,” her father roared in anger and continued,” Do you think you are a rich girl?”  Her mother intervened and pleaded” Forgive her. She doesn’t know how much regard you have for the old man. I will explain her. She will not repeat this. Please stop with this” Her father said “No, it is time she knew the facts. Anita, brace yourself to hear some shocking news about yourself. You are not our biological daughter. When we came across this old man 16 years back,  he had lost his only daughter and her husband in an accident. He was left with the responsibility of bringing up the young baby girl of his daughter. He had lost his wife earlier some years back. When I heard about it, your mom and I agreed to bring up the baby as our own. He readily agreed but declined to take any money. The old man told us that he was happy that his grandchild got a good home to live in good comfort and that he wanted nothing except permission to see the young baby girl grow once a month. He promised to keep your identity a secret and has faithfully done so. He is your grandfather and you have treated him shabbily.” Anita sat in stunned silence as the realisation of her past came over her. The image of the old man’s retreating figure, wiping his eyes, came rushing back to haunt her. The truth struck her hard: she had rejected the one person who loved her unconditionally, even from a distance. “Tomorrow morning, you will come with me to apologise and ask for his forgiveness,” her father said. The next morning when Anita and her father went to the hut, they were told he had left the place permanently without leaving any information about where he was going.  Anita’s heart sank. She had hoped to make amends, to show him she understood now. As she looked around the empty hut, she noticed a small, tattered black and white photograph on a shelf. It was of a baby girl, held by a younger version of the old man, smiling proudly. Tears filled Anita’s eyes, as she clutched the photo to her chest, vowing silently to find him. She needed to make things right by tightly embracing him.

The lingering fragrance (588 words)

This is a very old post repeated on Teacher's Day

I was in eighth grade when Mr. Govindarajan (whom we affectionately called GR Sir) became my class teacher. Despite my sieve-like memory, I vividly recall his short, frail figure, unkempt hair, and an appearance that belied his early fifties. Yet, what truly stood out were the twinkle in his kindly eyes and the ever-present mischievous smile that brightened his face.

GR Sir had a unique gift for making even the dullest subjects fascinating. His witty remarks and lively teaching style transformed our classroom into a place of wonder and laughter. I remember one day while explaining a complex math problem, he suddenly quipped, "Mathematics is like a detective story—full of mysteries to solve!" His humour was infectious, making even the most reluctant students sit up and take notice.

Despite his humour and warmth, there was a certain aloofness that kept us from taking undue liberties. He knew how to instill confidence in us, making us believe we could achieve any goal we set. GR Sir never derided even the weakest students, patiently explaining lessons over and over until everyone understood. The last ten minutes of his class were always dedicated to broadening our minds, discussing topics beyond the textbook, and kindling our curiosity.

One day, GR Sir entered the classroom unusually late, looking distinctly fatigued and distraught. He called me over and whispered, "Partha, I went to the hospital this morning to admit my aged mother. She has acute asthma. It was an emergency, and I am coming directly from the hospital after she stabilized. You know my house. Can you please collect lunch from my wife? Tell her I was held up and couldn’t come home as promised. Also, let her know that doctors are attending to my mother and I’ll be going to the hospital directly after school."

I dashed to his house, a small, two-room side portion that was dark and dingy. After conveying the message, I waited as his wife packed lunch. In the dim hall, I noticed a boy my age huddled on a mat. He tried to get up but couldn't, making unintelligible guttural noises. His mother hurried to his side.

"Lie down quietly, Kanna. I will come to you in a minute after sending lunch to appa," she said gently.

"Aunty, is he not well?" I asked, concerned. "He is not getting up and is making strange sounds."

She turned to me, a tear glistening in her eye. "Yes, he is very unwell. He cannot walk on his own. He cannot speak and is not a normal child."

It struck me then that he was not only affected by polio but also mentally challenged. What a cruel fate for my kind and dedicated teacher, who never let his personal struggles show. An aged, sick mother, a disabled child, a small decrepit home, and low income—such a burdensome combination for anyone to bear.

Yet, GR Sir's devotion to his duty and his unwavering amiable disposition remained unshaken. My admiration for him grew boundless as I recalled his natural dignity, infectious warmth, and willingness to go the extra mile for his students. He never allowed his private grief to intrude upon his professional responsibilities.

For GR Sir, education was more than just book learning. It was about igniting young minds with the wonders of the world and life itself. The memory of such a remarkable teacher lingers like a sweet fragrance, long after the years have passed. His rich contentment and serene detachment are rare qualities, not often found among ordinary mortals.

"A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops." Henry Adams

 

The surprise caller (693 words)

Paul rarely received personal mail—just bills and promotional flyers. With most communication done through email and phone, he hadn't visited a post office in months. So, when a handwritten envelope appeared among the usual junk, it caught him off guard. The name and address were penned in elegant cursive, hinting at a female author, though it was hard to be sure. Ever meticulous, Paul used scissors to open the envelope, revealing a small square of paper inside.

The note read:

"Please come on the 23rd at 7 PM to the address on this envelope. A surprise awaits you. This is no ruse or harm. You will be pleased with the effort. This may change your life as you wish it to be. K."

Paul didn't know anyone with the initial "K." He had no enemies, no business dealings that might lead to such a cryptic message. His life was steady and uneventful, like a calm stream. He had once deeply loved a girl—Diana, but she had moved far away with her parents. Over time, their correspondence dwindled to nothing from her,not even a birthday greeting. Yet, Paul still loved her, even writing to her recently, though his letters were met with silence.

Curiosity gnawed at him. Who was this "K"? A wealthy employer? A rival company? The possibilities spun in his mind. Unable to resist, Paul decided to go. Just in case, he informed a friend of his plans and arrived at the address—a grand bungalow with a long driveway. He did not fail to notice how well-maintained the garden was, with perfectly trimmed hedges and vibrant flowers lining the path. A butler met him at the door.

"I am Paul. I received an invitation."

"Yes, sir. We’ve been expecting you," the butler replied.

"May I ask who 'K' is?"

"Oh, Miss Katherine Bridgewater, a wealthy spinster of about 50, with estates all over the country."

"But why would she invite me? I have no connection with her."

"I wouldn’t dare guess, sir, but you’re very fortunate to be in her good graces," the butler said with a mischievous smile that made Paul uneasy.

Paul was ushered into a lavishly decorated room, where a large, imposing woman with a broad neck sat on a sofa. The room was filled with antique furniture, expensive crystal chandeliers and abstract paintings on the walls. She had a big frame, strong arms, and an infectious smile that belied the predatory gleam in her eyes.

"Welcome, Paul. It’s so sweet of you to come. Please, sit by my side. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be," she said.

Paul sat beside her, smiling politely as she took his hands and placed them on her lap.

"You’ve made my day by coming," she said, her grip firm as Paul tried to withdraw his hands. The butler entered with tea and cookies.

"May I ask why I’m here?" Paul inquired.

"How naïve you are! My dear, this meeting is likely to culminate in a romance, and possibly end in marriage," she said with a loud laugh.

Paul shot to his feet, anger rising.

"I don’t find this amusing. There’s been a mistake. I’m not interested in marriage, and I regret wasting my time," he said.

"Please, don’t be upset. You’re perfect for me. You’ll be wealthier than you can imagine. I won’t let you go until we’ve settled this," she replied, her tone serious now.

"This is absurd! I’m leaving, and if you try to stop me, I’ll call the police. I’m in love with someone else—by the name of Diana. She’s abroad, and I’ve waited three years for her return. Now, let me go," Paul demanded, heading for the door.

The butler blocked his path.

"Sir, you might want to turn around," he said.

Paul turned to see Diana sitting beside Katherine, giggling.

"Sorry, my love," Diana said as she rushed to hug him. "I returned with my parents two days ago. They know about us, and we, particularly my aunt here,wanted to surprise you before announcing our engagement."

Paul stood there, stunned, as the weight of the surprise lifted, replaced by overwhelming joy.

 

 

The Hidden Strength (936 words)

 

The train slowly departed from the bustling junction. It was past 10 pm. The compartment was quiet with the passengers settling down to sleep. Some lights had been switched off leaving a dim glow in the compartment.

Three rough-looking young men who had possibly boarded the train at the junction walked through the aisle with their eyes darting around in search of empty seats. They were in tight black T shirt, red scarf around their necks, tattoos in their forearms and metal bracelets on their wrists.

In one of the bays, they found a young woman in her early thirties lying on the lower berth with her body fully covered by a bed sheet except for her face. Two passengers were sitting on the lower berth opposite her. The ruffians stopped there staring at her and the two passengers.

“Go to another bay. We intend to sit here. Do you get that?” barked one of them at the two passengers.

“These are our reserved seats and we have been here from the starting station,” replied one middle-aged passenger, somewhat nervously.

Even before he completed, one of the ruffians pulled out a gleaming pen knife while another restrained his hand with the third fellow handing out a hard slap at the passenger who demurred. He was lifted by his collar and pushed out of the bay.

 The other passenger stood up trembling in fear.” You better move fast if you wish to remain unhurt” bellowed one of the evil men. Both passengers collected their things and scampered fast to another part of the train.

A few passengers on the side seats and from upper berths who witnessed the happenings were shocked at the rude and violent behaviour of the ruffians but had not the nerve to question them. Some of them pretended to be asleep while many others kept silent.

Emboldened, the three bad guys sat on the berth before the woman and started talking among themselves while one of them lit a cigarette and blew smoke at her. They were all the time eyeing the woman making small talk among them and passing lewd comments obliquely at the figure opposite to them. She seemed to ignore them completely and appeared asleep with her eyes closed. One of them lifted a bag and “accidentally” brushed her with the bag. Startled she opened her eyes and glared at them.

“Sorry, madam, the bag came into contact by accident. I did not mean to wake you up.”

She just ignored him. Irked by her silence, he said “You seem to be upset. It was not deliberate. Anyway, how far are you going?”

She stared at him still in anger but chose not to answer. The guy, determined to provoke her, said, “You look prettier when angry. Sit up, we can while away the time chatting. I am feeling bored” The other two companions chuckled loudly, with other passengers listening silently to the one-sided conversation.

When she adjusted her bed sheet to cover herself fully, the hooligan stood up and shook her shoulders to ask “Are you deaf-mute? I have been talking to you and you are indifferent”

“I warn you and that too only once. Do not mess with me. You will regret it,” she spoke softly but firmly.

There were muted giggles accompanied by apprehension of what was likely to follow from the other passengers. This infuriated the guy. He said to her “Look here, you common slut. It is you who is going to get hurt when the train stops at the next station. Mind what and how you talk to us” and tried to lift her into a sitting position by clasping her shoulders.

In a blip of a moment, her leg shot out and hit hard his head like a sledgehammer with the man crumpling on the floor. When another hooligan rushed towards her, she dealt with him a similar blow with her leg around his shoulder and neck region. This man too folded on the floor shrieking in acute pain. Dazed at the sudden onslaught from someone he considered a frail woman, the third hoodlum was cautious in approaching her. She was still lying on the berth and beckoned him to come closer if he had the guts. He looked around at the smirk on the faces of other passengers, his ego would not permit him to retreat leaving his companions on the floor.

In a fit of bravado, he approached her pulling out a pen knife and screaming with his hand raised “You common whore, you will pay dearly for this defiance.”

In a quick movement of legs, she hit his hand that held the knife with one leg and the other leg whacked his back. The onlookers heard a slight cracking noise as the man doubled in pain on the floor.

The other passengers rose immediately from their seats and tied their hands and legs tightly with clothes, scarves and ropes on which they could lay their hands. A few dared to box their faces and slap them too when they were immobile. Someone went in search of a policeman and the attendant allotted to the compartment.

One old person asked her” Are you trained in any martial art? How bravely you immobilized them with your deft and quick attack when all of us were frozen in fear. Do you belong to the police?”

“No uncle. I am an ordinary woman”, she replied, as she lifted the border of her saree and added,” Look here, I am handicapped too,” to reveal two prosthetic Jaipur legs made of wood attached to her knees.