Prayer answered

It was dusk. The air was cool and the sky was turning darkish blue. There was no breeze, no rustling of leaves and everything was quiet. Even the birds had returned to their perches.Basanti was sitting in the comfortable chair in the front porch watching vacantly the empty road. She was 65 but looked older for her age what with the strict instructions on her diet and movements.

Sharath came by her side with a tray that had two cups of tea with Marie biscuits. As he sat down by her side after stroking her head, he could see a faint smile in her face. These days she hardly smiled and there was mostly pain in her face that she tried hard to conceal whenever he came by her side. He took the cup and gave it in her hand. “I think you will like this. I added tulsi, your favourite flavour.”He put his arm around her and said “Isn’t it very quiet this evening. May be it will rain in the night”

She smiled weakly and replied”Yes, unusually quiet. I don’t like it and am scared. I do not wish to leave you behind alone. You are yourself not boasting of a good health with your weak heart and arthritis. My only worry is you would refuse to go to Ananth at Germany. I know you are uncomfortable at his house with his German wife though she is a very nice person. This thought about you rankles my mind more than my physical discomfort.

“Don’t be silly. You are not leaving me behind. Banish such thoughts. It is getting chill. Let us go inside and watch your favourite serial of songs contest. Thanks to you I have also grown to like the young kids showing their amazing talent”

He led her carefully to her bed inside holding her arm and switched on the TV. The song of an old Lata number reverberated in the room and if one closed the eyes, one cannot distinguish the original from the copy.”This girl Ruchika is good and I think she will become famous one day” Basanti said.

"True, she has an awesome voice and a reach that is incredible” he replied and looked at her.

Her eyes were closed and suddenly a fear overcame him. He gently felt her forehead and relieved placed his hand on her palm. It was rather cold.”Basant”he called her softly and when she did not respond repeated. This time she opened her eyes and said “Do not worry. Close the kitchen, TV and doors and lie by my side.

He came back soon, sat by her side, and gently massaged her arms that always pained.”You are a blessing for me, so understanding and loving. The touch of your hands is soothing. I am very happy but feel sleepy. Put your arm over me when I sleep and your proximity gives me assurance. I pray to God that we should be together always” she said

“Do not worry. I will always be with you. Sleep now” he said as he stroked her hair. She fell asleep soon there after

It was 6.15 am. She heard noise of the newspaper being thrown into the porch. She turned and found her husband sleeping still. She wondered why as he usually got up at 5am,had his bath did some puja and boiled milk. He would always be at her side with a cup of tea at 7 am when she usually got up.

She thought he is also aging and must be tired. She dozed off again to be woken by shrill bell of the maid. She found him still sleeping and went to open the door.

When she came near him along with the maid, she called him gently. When there was no response she touched his forehead and found it lukewarm. She felt his palm and found it cold. Worried she shook him by his cheek when his head fell on his side. She let out a shriek that was heard over entire block even as she fell over his chest.

The maid rushed out brought the neighbours in the apartment complex. One of them a doctor examined them and pronounced them as no more. Evidently God had answered her prayers

The journey

After a hard day's work, i was returning home by the fast local. it would be 8pm by the time I reach home I decided to have my dinner from the roadside 'dhaba'.They make tasty food at affordable rates though many warned that they recycle the used oil till it gets exhausted. My parents were looking for suitable match for me and the photos of a few they sent did not enthuse me. Though not aiming at a drop down stunner, I was not prepared to settle for a plain looking Jane.

The train was crowded but I could manage a seat. Still the humidity, the hot breaths of passengers close to me, the body odour due to perspiration that assailed my nostrils made it very uncomfortable. It was while trying to take my handkerchief to cover my nose, I turned to my right and what I saw made my heart skip a beat. Such beauty, such perfection in creation is no sight for levity. I forgot the hand kerchief but adjusted my sitting posture to get an eyeful for the rest of the journey.

There was a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, the eyes twinkled, a stray strand of hair curled on her forehead that was glowing. She had a sleeveless and a thin yellow saree was draped carelessly over her chest and shoulder. I could see she was looking at me from the corner of her eyes without any attempt to hide the fact. This emboldened me to gaze at her uninterrupted except for short breaks to avoid other passengers frown upon my crude ogling. I had four more stations to go and wished that the train travelled slower and I wanted to feel her skin with a touch.

When the train stopped at the next station the passenger by my side stood up abruptly closing the glossy foreign fashion magazine that had her on the centre fold. My dreamy interlude came to a sudden end and the nauseating smell started assaulting my nose with a vengeance.

The seven year itch

I was bored. The TV was showing an old action movie Bad day at Blackrock with Spencer Tracy I liked the role of one handed stranger who was on a visit to a town that had a shady past and prone to violence if necessary to keep its past a secret. I love seeing the classic Westerns of the old. Then I watched the recorded Tennis match between Rafa and Djokovic at French Open. I was hungry but had no mind to cook. I ordered some Chinese food from Wang’s with instruction that it be delivered within 30 minutes.

It was then the phone rang. I took the extension line by the side of sofa

“Hello” I said when there was silence from the other side

“Hello.Sundar there?”That was a young woman’s voice with a convent accent.

“Yes, Sundar here. Who is it?”

“I am sorry. You don’t seem to be the Sundar I rang for.”

“How do you know?”

“His voice is youngish with a life in it”

“I am also young and not old as you seem to suggest”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that way. He is 28 and a singer with an arresting voice”

“It is alright.I am Sundar Kumar though I cannot sing like your friend. You did not tell me who you are.”

“Ratna Pandey, Your voice is also good. I like the mix of husky and baritone in yours”

“Thank you,Ratna, not as sweet as yours. I am a bit unlucky I am not the Sundar you are looking for. What do you do for living?”

“I am a software engineer. Why unlucky? We have come to know each other now though by chance”

“One second. Let me switch on the AC.It is very hot here and sultry too”

“Yes Chennai is miserable unlike this place. I visit my parents once a month at least and will be there the next weekend”

“You must be in Bangalore”

“How did you know?”

"Where else these software engineers swarm to? Hahaha”

“Why the contempt for soft ware engineers I see in your laugh?”

“Far from it. I am also in IT with TCS”

“Same pinch. We are in same company.Then we can meet at our office when I come next”

“With pleasure. Are you single staying alone at Bangalore?”

“Yes. How about you?”

“Single for a few months though. My wife has gone to her parent’s place at Trichy”

“Oh, oh.married eh…It does not matter anyway. I have noted your number and will stay in touch’

“What is your number? We must meet over dinner this weekend”

“Sure. Will give the number when we meet. By the way congrats”

“Whatever for?”

“I surmise you are becoming a father in a few months”

“Okay. Here is my cell number. You can ring me there any time”
“Yes, that is the intention. Will smother you with phone calls.hehe, bye”

“Wow!Would love to be. Are you in a hurry? If you were in Chennai, we would have met right away”

I heard the abrupt click of phone being put down on the other end. I wondered why she disconnected. I went to the base phone on the other side of the hall to note down her number. I was shocked to see a Trichy number and remembered it was that of my wife’s sister with whom my wife was staying presently..

Revenge

The last repeat story

“Ravi, what you are doing is not right. You have been running around with Vinita when you are already engaged to Sarala.It is not fair once you have committed to marry someone else. Even though you are not yet married to Sarala, it is plain cheating. You must move away from Vinita for the good of both” said his friend Ram.

Ravi laughed and replied “Oh don’t be such a prude. My marriage is slated only three months hence. How does it matter to Sarala what I do till then. Vinita and I like each other. How does it bother you?’

“Didn’t you tell me that you had assured Vinita that you will marry her? She is trusting you and giving herself to you in the hope of both getting married. I would not approve of this” said Ram

Ravi with an impish smile said “Forget it. It is all common in love and if she is foolish she will have to pay the price.”

--0--

“Sarala, you have been dating Mohan for almost three years and had gone very intimate with him going out with him now and then to holiday spots. How can you ditch him and settle for Ravi? Is it not a clear betrayal?” asked her friend.”

”Tell me what am I do when this Mohan is virtually a pauper and lives on his meagre monthly salary. He keeps counting money even when he takes me out to cheap joints. No doubt he keeps me happy. But I cannot imagine a life of want when all I need is luxury and a foolish husband who will shower money on me and allow me to do what pleases me most. Ravi is garishly rich with huge business interests and property. I will nevertheless be intimate with Mohan as hitherto though I may not marry him” replied Sarala

“You are not only an untrue lover but also a likely cheater.Fie on you” said her friend.

--0--

“Vinita” called her roommate Sharanya.”I hear you are getting married to Ravi and that both of you are already going steady and intimate. Is it true?’

“Yeah, he is madly in love with me and has promised to marry me within three or four months. You know I need someone in the circumstances I am placed.”

Sharanya asked her “Did you not tell him that you tested positive for HIV? How can you spoil a young man’s life? What you are doing is totally unethical and dishonest.”

“He never asked me. Why should I volunteer information that would take him away from me?” said Vinita

--0—

In life God has His own mysterious ways to punish the wicked. None can cheat Him. People think they are clever only to be overtaken by revenge from unexpected quarters.

The curse of beauty

From July you can expect new stories.Till then please bear with repeats of old stories that you might have missed reading

It was a very crowded hall. I was standing in a corner watching the people. Some were moving past me staring at me at the same time and a few scurrying along without noticing me. I always curse myself for the beauty that god has endowed me with. The pity is I have heard people say that I am a knock down gorgeous woman and would figure above nine in a scale of one to ten..You can put me in late twenties with a figure that is sure to win hands down a Miss World contest.. The sharp chiseled features with a nose that could make Cleopatra jealous and eyes that could mesmerize even a sage were my bane..

I hate being stared at and all the waking hours people ogle at me with covetous eyes. I am aware that extreme good looks can isolate people and make them objects of envy of women and adoration of men. There is also the tendency for people when they look at the beautiful women to assume they are proud, arrogant and selfish which I am not. Be that as it may, let me recount the incident that happened today.

I noticed this handsome young man giving me all his undivided attention. He was not moving as others did after a furtive glance or a cold stare. He stood transfixed like a statue at a distance from me eyeing me all the time. I averted his gaze but could sense his deep eyes groping on me. No doubt he was very attractive, tall, muscular and dusky with dark hair that curled and fell on his face. I don’t know how to describe his pointed but curious look though I felt inwardly flattered. I didn’t like his eyes grazing on my midriff that remained carelessly uncovered by the sari that I wore.

When some people seemed to notice his standing for a long time at the same place, he moved to another area a few feet away without averting his gaze. I feared whether his intentions were honest but felt the comfort of the constant crowd around me...When the crowd started thinning, he came closer and walked around me though he made no advances. May be he was a silent admirer of beauty as I saw from my sideward glance his taking pictures of me surreptitiously on his mobile. I didn’t object as I am used to this annoyance.

I don’t know how long I was standing lost in my thoughts. The hall was practically empty except for a few moving fast engrossed in their own preoccupations. It was then this young man made bold to approach me and audaciously stroke my bare midriff and thereafter kiss his hands. I was dumbstruck at his impetuosity though to be honest I felt happy and even had half a mind to hug him.

It was then I heard the security shouting at him “Keep off the statues. Don’t you see the board warning you not to touch the articles under display in the museum?”

Right attitude

Arjun was a 11 year old boy studying in class five. A puny boy with a round face, he always wore a pleasant smile on his face. Though a bright kid in the class, he was seated in the last bench. One may ask what is wrong with that except that this boy was affected with polio in one leg and used a crutch to walk. Though amiable in disposition, the other students never mixed with him. When all the others were playing, Arjun would be sitting on the bench alone watching them play or reading a book. Some of the mean students hurt him by calling him names like one legged horse, a halt or a crutchy. Some even derived sadistic pleasure by dislodging his crutch as they walked to make him trip. Arjun never lost his cool on such occasions and made light of them by laughing along with them.

The class teacher one day asked, “Arjun, why don’t you sit in the first bench.You are short and not visible.”

Arjun said, “Sir, I would like to sit in the last bench as it is convinient to keep the crutch against the wall away from the legs of others. I can see the black board clearly.”

The teacher had a look of worrry but remained silent though not satsified with the reply. There was an annual sports meet falling within a week and names were invited from the willing participants for events like running race, long jump, high jump, marathon race, lemon and spoon race, musical chairs, obstacle race and sack race. The boys huddled in groups, discussed amongst themselves and filled the forms with the events they wished to participate. Arjun was sitting alone in the last bench. No one came near him or invited him to join.

In the last hour of the day the teacher collected the forms as each student went to his table. When Arjun as the last boy limped his way with his crutch and handed over his form, the class broke into laughter.The teacher was angry and hit the table with the ruler and asking”What is there to laugh about, you silly boys?”

When Arjun gave his form the teacher put his arms around the boy and told him in kind tone”Dear boy, it is not compulsory for all to participate in the sports. If you wish, you can watch the events along with others.”

Arjun replied,”No, Sir. I wish to be like anybody else a normal person and I have given my name for the sack race. My friends will all be handicapped with their legs tied in the sack.God has already endowed me with a handicap. I think sir we are all evenly placed.Please permit me to join.”

The teacher rubbed his eyes with his handkerchief as he accepted the form. There was a pin drop silence in the class.

It was the sports day and sack race was the last event.The entire school was there watching the event. They knew Arjun was particpating in the event.Fifteen boys along with Arjun ran the race. No special handicap was given to Arjun even though he took the help of his crutch. The whole crowd watched with bated breath Arjun leading the pack unafraid of his falling down. As he breasted the tape the whole crowd gave a standing ovation and the thunderous applause took along time to die down. As the Principal rose from his chair and went near Arjun to pat him on his shoulders, there was again a deafening applause.

“How do you feel Arjun on winning the race?”asked the Principal.

“I feel normal like any other boy and happy to be part of this meet” replied Arjun. All his class mates thronged around him and shouted “hip hip hooray Arjun.”

The Miracle of Makkan Chor

I am repeating a story as my mind is blank

Sukanya was no ordinary girl. Just ten years, she was very much different from others. It all happened suddenly when on a visit to her grandmother she was gifted with a doll of Sri Krishna. It was a two feet high, doll of Krishna in blue colour standing with a flute in hand and a cow behind. With His bewitching smile and handsome features, He caught the fancy of the little girl. Her grandmother narrated to her, the story of Meera Bai and her unflinching devotion to the Lord despite the trials and tribulations she faced. The story made a deep impact on the girl and transformed her completely. She no longer went to play with her friends in the colony. She spent all the time other than school hours with the doll, dressing it up, making flower garlands, talking to it, singing bhajans and doing puja.She was a soft spoken girl with a sweet voice and a very beautiful face.

Her parents were upset initially with her constant attention to the doll to the detriment of her studies, play and other chores. While the mother understood the girl’s love for the doll and her sincere devotion to the Lord, her father was adamant that the doll be kept in the loft out of reach of the girl. She cried so inconsolably that after her mom’s persuasion he relented subject to the condition that she spent only an hour in the morning and evening and went to play, do her homework like before. She put a stipulation that her mom should provide her with a small cup of butter for her Lord. This was agreed to without fuss. She knew that Krishna loved butter being a makkan chor. The doll was kept in the puja room and not a day passed without Sukanya doing the soul stirring Bhajans, puja and offering of butter to the lord. The parents too saw no harm in her devotion, as it did not clash with her studies, play and other chores

One day when she had finished the puja, she found the butter had been scooped as if by fingers. With surprise and glee, she asked her mom to witness the strange happening. When her mom looked at the cup and then at her fingers, Sukanya denied amidst sobs that she had not touched the butter. While they didn’t know what could have caused it, they decided to keep quiet. When this phenomenon happened in the successive three days, her mom told her husband about the strange occurrence. The father called the girl and told her sternly that he would stop all the puja if she did not come out with the truth. With this veiled accusation as if she had taken the butter, the girl denied her hand vehemently. But the dad was not convinced and said, “I have not come across any incident of God taking the Prasad offered to him. May be Sukanya is not aware that she was unconsciously handling the butter. I think there is something fishy about the whole thing.” Sukanya was deeply hurt but did not respond unwilling to provoke him.

The next day the dad stayed at home to get into the bottom of the matter. When the girl was doing the puja, he surreptitiously came down without the knowledge of the girl and his wife who was busy in the kitchen. Now and then, he saw through a narrow opening of the puja room door, the girl singing softly with her eyes closed. When the song was over and the puja seemed to end, he peeped again through the opening. What he saw astounded him. He saw a boy of ten years bluish in colour with yellow silk around his waist, a peacock feather on his head and a flute in hand stooping down to the cup and taking the butter. When the boy turned his gaze towards the opening in the door, the dad instantly fell unconscious.

Hearing the commotion both Sukanya and her mom came running towards him.” Appa, Please open your eyes. What happened? Why did you faint?” asked Sukanya. When the man blabbered about the blue boy, his flute and the feather, her mother gave him water to drink and asked him to be calm. She said “What boy and where is he? The front door is locked. There is no one here.

Sukanya also hasn’t seen anyone. Are you day dreaming?”
He said, “No, I saw him distinctly. I have never seen such a beautiful face and the eyes were red in colour of unparalleled beauty. He stooped down and took the butter. See the cup yourself if you do not trust me.” When they saw the cup, they found the butter has been removed with two tiny fingers"

Sukanya with tears welled up in her eyes shouted in elation and happiness “Kanna, Krishna, Govinda, Navneeth chora, how lucky I am that you have heard my prayers and had come to stand by my side. How unlucky I was to keep my eyes closed when you stood near me and ate the butter? Why did you not your bells make some noise?”

The parents embraced the girl who was in rapture and delight and smothered her with kisses.