The smirk (1088 words)

Her mobile rang. It was from her ex-boyfriend. She ignored the call and deleted the missed call. It rang again and again ​s​everal times. There were five missed calls she had deleted, and he should have known that she was not interested. Then a tinkle for ​a​n SMS message.

 Swetha, I am having high fever and shivering since the evening. Can you please come for a few minutes to help me”? She deleted that also

Arun was living in the adjacent block in the same Purva Mantri complex. She never met him after they broke up. She was happily married to Suresh, both in the same IT line but in different offices. He was aware of Swetha’s past friendship with Arun and why they broke up. Her parents never liked Arun from day one; his parents had separated and married again, and he belonged to a different community with different eating habits. It was only after striking a friendship with him that she came to know he had had many girlfriends and ditched them one after the other whenever a better one came along. She had observed his roving eyes and decided to sever her relationship, much to his annoyance.

He was now pleading sick and needed help. It could be a ruse, but what if it were true, she wondered. Maybe she could go and size up the situation and have a doctor called or have him admitted to the ER. But what deterred her was that it was past 730 pm and he was alone in his apartment. Further, Suresh had gone for a party and was expected only around 11 pm. She gave him a ring, but there was no response.

When she finally went to Arun's place, the door was not locked. She gently opened the door to find him lying on the sofa in the drawing hall. He had a pillow and had covered himself with several bed sheets and a blanket. The light was on, as also the TV on subdued volume.

“What happened, Arun? “she asked

“Since evening, I have been having terrible shivering, body pain, and I think I have a fever”

“Why didn’t you go to the doctor? Have you eaten anything?”

“I took a paracetamol and hoped it would subside. I haven’t taken any food. Tell me if I have a fever.”

She felt his forehead and found it warm. She also noticed an electric warmer by his side to keep him from shivering. “Okay, let me heat some milk and give you along with bread”

She went inside, boiled the milk and came with a tray containing a glass of milk and toasted bread.

He ate the bread and drank the milk. “I am having a splitting headache. Would it be too much to ask you to press my forehead?”

I may have to hurry up as my husband will be back anytime. I will press for a few minutes.” She sat in a chair and pressed his forehead as he kept looking at her with a wry smile on his face.

Suddenly, he said, “I wish we had not broken up. At least you can keep visiting me once in a while”

She abruptly got up and said, “I am leaving. There is no point in discussing the past and that it is best we do not meet. I came only because you said you were unwell”.

 As she was walking back to her block, she saw Suresh coming towards her to her surprise and shock.

“The security in our block told me he saw you walking hurriedly towards the adjacent block. So, I came looking for you. What was it and whom did you visit?”

She narrated to him all that had happened and that she left him as he was feeling better. As they were climbing the stairs to their apartment, there was a beep on her mobile. She turned to her husband and said, “It is again from him asking me to come urgently. We are not going. Let him take the help of security”

Suresh said, “No, let us go and have a look. In case he needs medical help, let us take him to the ER”

This time the door was locked, and after they pressed the bell, he opened the door and said to Suresh with a big laugh, “What a surprise to see you also along with Swetha”

The sofa was clean with no pillows or blankets. There was a beer bottle with a glass on the table. The TV was on. There was no evidence of his sickness, and he was in T shirt and well-groomed hair. Suresh looked at Swetha questioningly.

“Arun, when I came here a few minutes back, you were shivering and said you had fever. You had covered yourself with many bed sheets and blankets. You said you had taken paracetamol. I boiled milk for you and gave you with bread. How come you seem ok in a few minutes? Why did you text me to come urgently?”

“Who's unwell, me? Are you daydreaming? You came to spend some time with me, saying your husband had gone out. You left abruptly, and so I sent a message asking whether you would like to come again if free”

“You dirty liar”, exploded Swetha and dragged Suresh to the kitchen to show the vessel in which she had boiled milk. The sink was dry and clean with no vessels. She was dumbfounded and crying fell on the chest of Suresh, telling him, “Trust me, He is lying to sow a doubt in your mind”

Suresh led her out of the house, even when Arun was having a mischievous sneer on his face. On the way to their apartment, he consoled her and said, “I trust you implicitly. I know he is a scoundrel. Never go to his place again.”

It was two days later that Swetha went to her parents' place on a Sunday. When she returned in the evening, there was a commotion outside Arun’s block. When she went to her apartment, Suresh said, “Do you know Arun had committed suicide? I heard that he did it, possibly consuming sleeping tablets along with beer. Serves him right, isn’t it?”

When she turned to look at her husband, she saw a happy smirk on his face.

Confused, she walked to the kitchen. As she opened the fridge to take milk​ for making tea, she froze. The beer bottle she had at the bottom rack  was missing.

 

A Wrong Number to Mr. Right (1210 words)

 

Rhea was browsing through the matrimonial site during lunch hour. She was proud of her tall bearing, good looks, and her well-paid job. Being 27, she wished to settle down. She wanted someone, preferably an engineer from the IT industry in Bangalore itself. Her requirements were not too demanding. A healthy man under 32, tall to match her height, clean habits and willing to live with her separately without other family members, was enough. To be compatible with her, she wished that he must be interested in films of all genres, light music, travel, eating out and be a fun-loving person. These traits she felt were very reasonable, especially for a lifetime partner.

Most profiles she saw from Bangalore were disappointing-over-aged widowers/divorcees, men in small jobs, short in height or rooted in joint families. A few insisted on horoscope matching. After a long scrutiny, only one came somewhat remotely close to her specifications.

 "A 31-year-old B. Tech working in a leading IT company in Bangalore with a handsome salary is interested in an educated lady, not employed, adept in cooking South and North Indian cuisine for a gourmet and with interests in home-bound hobbies like Carnatic music, painting, embroidery, decorating the house, gardening, etc. She should be willing to raise a family soon after marriage without imposing any time limit. Should not grudge his relatives visiting the house or nag to be taken out for eating in restaurants or social gatherings. A good homemaker who can take care of her husband and is the main requirement. If interested, you can contact xxxxxxx for a dinner date"

Rhea did not like the emphasis on cooking, being home-bound, getting ready to bear babies and being a homemaker. Though she was quite sure that this would not work out with her being in a cushy job in an advertising company, she succumbed to the mischievous idea of enjoying a free dinner in the company of a guy, making him, in the process, build castles in the air of a wedding with a beautiful woman. She had nothing else to do for the evening and was in an adventurous mood. She dialled his number to hear his deep voice.

The manly voice was mesmerising as he gently said, “This is Naren, I could not catch your name. Did you say Shriya? What can I do for you?”

Rhea felt a thrill pass through her spine. “It is Rhea, not Shriya. I saw your profile on the matrimony site, and as desired by you, I am free to meet at the restaurant for dinner tonight”

“Did you say my profile in the matrimony site suggested a dinner date?” he asked

“You must know better, as you have inserted the ad” she said with some irritability.

“I am sorry I forgot. Maybe a momentary blackout after hearing a sweet, feminine voice,” he giggled and added,” How about meeting at 7 pm today at Grand? Is it close to your place or shall I pick you up from your place?”

“That is not necessary. I have my vehicle. I will be there at the lounge in blue jeans and a dark coat”

“Thanks, Rhea. I will be in a blue striped shirt. I look forward to meeting you. Bye till then”

It was 7 pm, and the lounge was crowded. Rhea was playing a game on her iPhone. When she looked up, hearing a mild cough, she was startled to find a very handsome guy in a blue striped shirt sitting opposite her and watching her intently with a smile on his face.

He stood up and, extending his hand, said, “I am Naren. I was waiting for you to finish your game”, he said with a mischievous grin

“Sorry, I didn’t notice you”

He took her hands in his and led her to the table reserved for them in a corner. drew the chair and made her sit comfortably. She was at once taken in by his easy charm and chivalry.

When the bearer appeared, he said, “Please order whatever food you like. I am open to any kind, Italian, Mexican, and Chinese, unless you prefer South Indian items. What are your favourites?”

“I think our food tastes are similar, though what you had written about being a gourmet and that I should be proficient in cooking South and North Indian stuff baffled me” she said

There was a confused look when he said, “Had I written like that?” he asked

“How strange you're asking me the question. You also wanted a woman who is ready to raise a family immediately and wished a homebound woman knitting sweaters and singing Thyagaraja Keerthanas.“.

When he started laughing, she added, “You also wanted your partner a sit at home type tending to the garden and decorating your home and entertaining your guests”

“My god! Did I say ready to start a family immediately, is it? Let me explain, and your confusion will disappear. I returned from Japan only last night. Maybe my mom had inserted the advertisement on the site. She is particular that I should get married soon. I have no idea of the content, and whatever is mentioned is her idea of a good daughter-in-law. Was there anything else that put you off?” he asked

“That I should stay at home and not nag you to take me out on travel, or for eating out or for parties” she smiled

“Oh my God. This is not the type I would ever wish. On the contrary, I want her to be well employed, be liberal in outlook, fun loving, outgoing, interested in outdoor sports like swimming, gym, jogging and fond of travel every six months to new places. Will you kindly ignore what was all stated on the site? What are you, by the way?”

She told him and said “If what you say is true, I am happy to have found one after my heart”. The butterflies started fluttering in her stomach when he held her hands and said “you are very beautiful.”

They lingered together for a long time and then decided to meet a week later to take things forward, as she had a campaign. They exchanged the cards and parted

As she lay in the bed recalling his handsome face and the striking contrast of his personality to what she had assumed, she suddenly clicked the link for the site and found the phone number different from that on the card. Naren was also not in IT but a VP in marketing.

Shocked, she rang up the number on the site. A gruff voice answered, “Raju here. Who is it? What do you want?”

After hearing her, he asked whether she was employed and when she affirmed, he curtly said,” I had made it clear in the ad that I do not want an employed woman but a homemaker. I have my old parents to look after.”

She realised then she had originally dialled Naren’s number by mistake, but was happy she discovered her Mr. Right.

Her mobile then rang.”Naren here. Rhea, can we meet again tomorrow itself  , whenever convenient? I hope you understand the tsunami you have caused in my heart.”

She laughed and said,” Surely, I am no better than you”

‘Eight Weeks’ scare (681 words)

 Ambuja wore a worried look as she brought her young and beautiful 20-year-old daughter to the doctor’s apartment on the upper floor of her building.

The doctor, past 70 years, had closed his regular practice and confined himself to advising some of his longtime clients when approached. He charged no fees and kept a donation box marked boldly FOR CHARITY for the clients to drop whatever they thought fit. A highly respected and popular person, he was known for his kindness.

The doctor emerged from the examination room, his expression grim.

“Eight weeks,” he said quietly.

Ambuja gasped. “Oh my God. She’s never been left alone without one of us. She’s such a sweet, innocent child. Barely knows anything! I didn’t even let her watch adult movies. How could this happen?”

The doctor shrugged. “How would I know? There’s an old saying you must have heard, “With dogs around, the bitch is never safe.”

“She never had a boyfriend. She never dated anyone. I’m sure of it!”

“That’s what she told you. Were you following her every time she stepped out?”

Ambuja’s face wrinkled. “She’s in her final year of college. A baby will ruin everything, her future, our family’s reputation. Please, Doctor… do something. I beg you.”

“Alright,” he said, softening. “Send her in. I’ll speak to her.”

A few minutes later, the daughter stepped out and motioned her mother inside.

The doctor met Ambuja’s eyes and spoke gently. “I’ve spoken to her. Brace yourself. It’s your neighbour’s son. They’ve been in love for some time, meeting whenever they could. They didn’t expect this. He wants to marry her. He’s just finished his final management course. I know his family—they were my patients too.”

Ambuja stiffened. “Shakunthala’s son? That wily woman has always been jealous of me, of our wealth. This is her ploy to grab everything through her son! No, I don’t want this baby. You must terminate it. Do whatever it takes.”

“It’s not that simple. It’s illegal at this stage without medical grounds, and even then, I’d need the young man’s consent. Talk to your neighbour, bring them here with your daughter. We’ll see what’s possible.”

He added gently, “And for the record, Shakunthala’s family is quite wealthy. I doubt she’s after your assets. Perhaps she’s just envious that you have a beautiful, talented daughter while she has only a son.”

The next evening, both mothers arrived at the clinic with their children and a basket full of fruits.

“Doctor,” said Ambuja with a nervous smile, “We had a long, honest talk. Shakunthala’s son and my daughter are truly in love. Our families are compatible, and we’ve spoken to our husbands. We’ve decided, they’ll be engaged soon.”

Shakunthala nodded in agreement.

“Wonderful news!” said the doctor. “When’s the wedding?”

“Soon, but only after we take care of the baby situation,” said Ambuja. “They aren’t ready for children yet. They plan to travel, maybe on a long honeymoon. They want the pregnancy terminated.”

“I need to hear it from all of you: is this marriage final and non-negotiable?”

All four nodded in unison. “It’s final.”

Suddenly, the doctor burst out laughing. The two mothers looked bewildered.

What’s so funny, Doctor?” asked Shakunthala.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, chuckling. “I was part of a drama… scripted by your children.”

The women stared.

“They were terrified to tell you the truth about their relationship, knowing the distrust and dislike between you. So, they came to me with a plan. No, your daughter is not pregnant. I never examined her. She just wanted me to say ‘Eight weeks’ to bring a sense of urgency.”

“You mean…” Ambuja stammered.

“I never violated my ethics. I didn’t lie to your daughter or examine her. I simply told you what she asked me to tell you. The rest? It was all you. But it worked, didn’t it?”

There was a long pause. Then Shakunthala let out a reluctant laugh. Ambuja followed, shaking her head.

“Kids these days,” she muttered.

The doctor smiled. “As they say, all’s well that ends well.”

The Surprise Visitor (670 words)

It was unusually dark that night. The heavy rain had stopped, but a persistent drizzle continued, deepening the gloom in Suguna’s already heavy heart. She sat alone in her apartment, resting on the sofa, doing nothing in particular. She felt neither hungry nor sleepy.

Suddenly, the apartment was plunged into darkness. The wretched electricity department had cut the power due to waterlogging somewhere nearby. She wanted to light some candles but couldn’t recall where she had kept them.

In the dim light filtering through the window, she noticed a figure sitting on the opposite sofa. She froze. From behind, it looked unmistakably like her father (appa). He hadn’t been there before the power outage—he must have entered after the lights went out. The broad shoulders, the smooth, bald crown of his head, and the familiar way he reclined all pointed to one thing: it was him.

But how could it be? It had to be a stranger.

The figure rose suddenly and walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside to let in a sliver of moonlight. His gait, the way he moved, it was identical to her father’s. Yet fear kept her rooted. She couldn’t bring herself to move closer. It couldn’t really be him… could it?

Her mind went back to the accident on the highway, a few months earlier. She and her father(appa) had been returning from the mall. He was driving steadily at 70 miles per hour in the fast lane when a vehicle in the second lane suddenly veered into their path. Her father had swerved to avoid it and crashed into the divider. Just before she lost consciousness, she had seen a gaping wound in his upper chest, blood gushing out. She saw him slump in his seat, motionless.

He hadn’t survived. She was certain of it.

So, who was this man?

Filled with dread, Suguna tiptoed toward her bedroom. The apartment, so familiar in daylight, now felt alien in the dark. She moved slowly, carefully.

Then she heard it.

“Suguna!”

The cry rang out like an anguished wail, echoing through the apartment. It didn’t sound like someone calling her name; it sounded like a heart being torn open. Again it came, louder, more desperate:

“Suguna!”

She froze. The voice filled her with terror. She couldn’t bring herself to respond or even move toward the door. She was alone. She couldn’t risk drawing his attention. And she couldn’t flee either, as he was still in the drawing room.

Then, suddenly, the power returned. Light flooded the room.

She heard footsteps approaching. He was coming into her bedroom.

Suguna quickly hid behind the curtains.

The man’s figure was stooped, his posture heavy with sorrow. He moved slowly, silently, as if crushed by grief. He looked around the room, touched the edge of her bed, and gently ran his fingers over the pillow. Then he walked to the dresser, where her photo stood in a frame. He stared at it for a long time, eyes filled with tears. Carefully, with trembling hands, he picked it up, wiped the glass with his shirt, and brought the picture to his lips.

Groaning through his sobs, he whispered,

“Suguna… why did you leave me? I should have died in that accident. You were so young, with your whole life ahead of you. My years were spent. How cruel God has been…”

He wept openly now, and Suguna’s heart broke at the sight. This was no stranger. It had to be her father… revisiting her, in grief.

She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around him, and whispered,

“Appa, please don’t cry. I’m right here. I’ll join you when my days are done.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her voice. He didn’t feel her touch. After a few minutes, he gently placed the photo back, walked out of the room, switched off the lights, locked the door behind him, and left.

Suguna followed him to the front door and watched in silence as he drove away into the night.

 

The Irony (529 words)

 Krish crossed this traffic signal every day on his way to work, and almost without fail, he got stuck there.

He had grown up watching beggars and hawkers swarm the junction, but over the years, the scene had become increasingly overwhelming. The chaos was no longer just a part of the city’s character; it had become a public nuisance.

Swarms of children and young women, some with infants clinging to their hips, all in tattered clothes barely offering modesty, moved swiftly between the vehicles. Grimy children with running noses and matted hair, frail mothers cradling emaciated babies, the lame, the leprous, and even able-bodied boys and girls pretending to sell trinkets like combs, car swipes, magazines, and goggles, knocked on car windows and wiped windshields without being asked.

They couldn’t be ignored. They were persistent, sometimes even aggressive, and they darted dangerously through traffic as the lights changed, undeterred by the risks.

Krish felt a deep ache watching them. Offering a few coins or a sympathetic smile felt futile, a meaningless drop in an ocean of suffering.

He thought of the children who should have been in school, not wandering barefoot on sun-scorched roads or begging in the pouring rain.

It pained him that even after several decades of independence, poverty remained a harsh reality, stubbornly untouched by countless development plans and government schemes.

He felt a radical shift was needed, something bigger, something that would go beyond charity, and touch the root of the problem.

A sudden chorus of honking horns jolted him from his thoughts. The signal had turned green, and the beggars, too, had rushed off to the other side, where a fresh batch of vehicles waited.

The image of those faces stayed with him all day. His mood remained heavy, and when he met his colleagues at the office, he spoke only of what he had seen, of poverty, and what must be done to end it.

One colleague suggested banning begging outright.

Another said beggars should be jailed to “clean up” the cities.

None of it sat right with Krish. He longed for a day when no child would need to beg at a traffic light, when every child would have a home, an education, and a future.

That evening, Krish left the office early. He had promised to take his wife and son shopping for school supplies.

After picking up some stationery from Staples, they stopped at Bata to buy the boy a new pair of shoes, as his current ones were slightly tight. The old shoes, still in usable condition, were packed up and handed back to them.

“Let’s give these to some poor child at the signal,” his wife said kindly.

By then, it was already 8 PM. As always, their car halted at the signal. Krish lowered the window and looked out, scanning for the familiar sight of begging children.

But tonight, the crossing was empty.

Not a single child. Not even an adult beggar.

His wife’s face showed quiet disappointment.

And in a strange, bitter twist of irony, Krish found himself hoping, just for a moment, that at least one child would appear, if only to accept the shoes.

 

Pandian’s second wish (900 words)

Pandian, an IT engineer, had come along with his three friends to explore the dense green forest on a Sunday afternoon and to spend time with nature to savour its raw beauty. He had heard there was a beautiful lake, clean and circular, surrounded by wild and colourful flower plants. He wished to find it out and spend a few minutes. But his friends demurred, saying it was getting dark. His enthusiasm overtook his caution, and he went deeper inside alone after requesting that they wait for a short time. Unfortunately, once inside, every side looked alike, and he lost his way and his friends. He tried to reach them through his mobile, but the charge had drained.

 It was only 4 pm, but it was pitch dark. He heard unusual and strange noises, and he was terrified of slithering reptiles. He was scared and started praying even as he continued moving through the maze, searching for a clearing or the brightness of sunlight. Something soft and cool, slightly rubbed on his cheek, and he jumped, startled that it could be a python from the overhead branch. He could see nothing and moved away quickly.

After several harrowing minutes when he lost all hope of escape, he was happy to see an opening that was a little brighter. When he went near, he found to his great relief, an old man of indeterminable age sitting bare bodied under a tree. He was sitting with his legs crossed in Padmasana, had a flowing white beard, and his eyes were closed, obviously in meditation. He sat quietly before him, waiting for him to open his eyes. Pandian was afraid to disturb him lest he get angry and refuse to help him find his way out. Minutes clicked past, and it was almost an hour, and he was still sitting before him when the weird noises around him grew shriller and louder. But nothing seemed to wake the old man from his musing. When a fly sat on the edge of Pandian’s nostril, he could not stop the loud sneeze despite his attempt to smother it. It was then that the old man opened his eyes and, surprisingly, smiled at Pandian.

In a soft voice that was almost a whisper, he asked, “Son, what are you doing here in this dense forest? It is a risky place to be here with crawling reptiles and roaming wild animals.”

Pandian prostrated before him and prayed, “Swami, I lost my way here and could not find my friends with whom I had come. I fear I have strayed deep inside the jungle. Can you kindly help me get out of the forest?”

“I have not seen a human for several years, this far into the forest, ever since I came here as a young boy in search of the meaning of life. I am not normally visible to others' eyes. Lucky you could see me. I am pleased with you. Ask me three wishes and they would be fulfilled immediately.’

“My first wish is to be out of this jungle at my home,” he said

” It will be done immediately. Express your other two wishes,” said the sage-like person

“Swami, I love Swarna, my colleague, very much, but she is not reciprocating. Can you please make her fall in love with me?” asked Pandian

“What is your third wish? Tell me now, this moment before I become invisible to your eyes”

“Swami, I am so tired after the walk all day that I can scarcely think, and I wish I had a sound sleep before telling my third wish, Pandian said unwittingly.

Everything went blank till Pandian heard his mother’s shrill voice, “Pandia, why are you sleeping like Kumbakarnan. You said you have a meeting today. Get up fast, as it is already late.”

Pandian felt happy that his first wish to return home from the dreadful forest and desire for sound sleep were readily granted.

Pandian was not sure whether his second wish about Swarna would materialise as the old man did not specifically respond.

The next day, he was busy with the scheduled meeting in the morning. It was around 3 PM he was surprised to see Swarna entering his cubicle unusually with a broad smile. Extending his hand, he said,” What a pleasant surprise? Am I dreaming?” he said mockingly, pinching his hand.

“I came to this part of the office on work after a long time, and just came to greet and spend a few moments. You look a bit jaded. Anything bothering you? she asked. He denied.

After exchanging pleasantries, she took leave of him with a giggle and parting remark,” I feel your happy days are starting soon,” leaving Pandian confused.

It was at dinner time when the family, including his parents, sisters and one younger brother, her mom asked with a mischievous smile,” Is there any Swana, an IT engineer like you working in your office?”

“Why, why, I know her a little,” he exclaimed hastily.

“Her parents were here seeking your hand for her. She looks charming in the photo. We have agreed to visit them with you tomorrow formally for finalising with your approval,” said his mom.

With the cat out of the bag for Swarna’s visit with her smile and parting remark, he thought of the venerable old man for fulfilling all his three wishes.

 

 

 

The bully (1419 words)

(This story relates to pre-mobile days)

The final examination for class 12 was just a few weeks away. It was lunchtime. I was sitting alone in the prayer hall where the students assembled daily in the morning

I saw Durai standing outside the prayer hall with his friends, looking at me once in a while and conversing with them. I knew why he was there, but I just ignored him. I must give a short introduction about him, as he plays a significant role in this story

He is a school bully, tall, muscular, with unruly hair and a copper bracelet on the wrist. Except for his cronies, the boys and girls gave him a wide berth. Short-tempered, he was given to picking quarrels for flimsy reasons and turning violent. A backbencher, he fared poorly in studies. The teachers, who knew that his dad was a local politician, generally left him alone. He was proficient in Karate and had a colour belt.

A week earlier, I had warned him to stay away from Sumitra, our classmate. Every time she walked past him, he made some indecent comments or hummed film songs with double meaning, much to the amusement of his buddies and the embarrassment of Sumitra. Sometimes he will try to indulge in silly talk with her. When she could tolerate it no more, she confided in me.

Durai did not like my admonition and angrily shook my collar and. threatened me to mind my own business if I wished to avoid getting maimed for life. He punched me hard and pushed me away as he left with his pals

A brief account of my friendship with Sumitra would be apt here. I have been studying with Sumitra for the last four years, and there was nothing special between us except as classmates till we came to class 12. It was the beginning of the academic year, and as usual, I sought refuge during lunchtime in my favourite corner of the prayer hall. The large hall was practically empty in the afternoons except for some students passing through the hall at the other end. I was sort of dozing one day with my eyes half closed when a whiff of jasmine fragrance wafted across me. I opened my eyes to see Sumitra standing before me with some books in her hand. I smiled at her and arched my brows as if to ask what brought her to me.

“I have some doubts in geometry and am unable to solve a few problems. I was initially hesitant, but decided to come to you as you are a topper in the class,” she said softly

“Sit down and show me the questions” I replied.

She sat on the bench a little away and spread the notebook on her lap. She opened the page in the geometry book and showed me the problems.

They were simple, and I took the notebook from her and drew the diagrams. She came closer to me, craning her neck to see what I wrote. Her hair with jasmine concealed in it almost brushed my face. The intoxicating smell, the proximity of a feminine figure was something new to me, triggering unexplained feelings in me. As I was explaining the diagram and the construction needed to solve the problem, her hand brushed against mine. I stopped explaining momentarily, and she looked at me quizzically.

“I hope you do not mind my troubling you now and then like this, Raju. Things are clearer to me now,” she said with a shy smile

“Not at all. It is a pleasure to help you. You can always approach me”

“Did you say a pleasure?” she said as she flashed a smile and scurried away.

There was a song in my heart as I got up, looking at the receding beautiful girl.

The next day, she came and thrust a notebook, saying, “I have to rush. I have unsolved problems in calculus. I will collect it tomorrow. I hope you won’t mind”

I opened the notebook after she was gone, and a peacock feather fell. I smiled to myself. I inwardly knew that her getting her doubts cleared was only a pretext to be with me.

The exchange of notebooks with rose petals, flowers and small notes with names written graphically became a routine, though we had not mentioned that we were in love with each other. One day, she mentioned she said she would be joining SSM Engineering College and wished that I also do the same. “We can be together for four more years. Choose ECE.”

I asked her mischievously, “What about after four years? Won’t you like to be together?”

She said “Chee, chee “and ran away.

It was on one such day recently, Sumira complained about Durai’s constant harassment, followed by my warning him.

I was woken up from my reverie when I found Durai lifting me by my collar and dragging me outside the prayer hall to the gate. There were his buddies and many students standing in a circle.

“You skinny cheapster, who the hell are you to warn me to stay away from Sumitra? What is she to you? Your sweetheart or lover?” he shook my body violently.

When I did not reply, partly shaken by fear, he flexed his muscles and punched me on my face. There was laughter from his buddies and horror in the looks of other students.

“Are you dumb? Open your mouth if you wish to save your life,” thundered Durai in rage.

I smelt blood and looked around. Another blow landed on me like a sledgehammer. I fell. Someone came running towards me.

” Don’t anyone dare to come near us. It is a private quarrel, or shall I say duel? I have decided to end the issue once and for all,” he roared

Turning towards me he asked, “Is she your lover? How close are you to her, you rascal? Keep away from her. Do you understand?”

I knew I could not fight with him, and he only wanted me to resist him so he could hit me more. My silence infuriated him so much that he kept raining blows on me even as I lay on the ground, cowering in fear. Things turned black, and I felt myself going unconscious.

It was then I heard faintly Sumitra’s shrieking voice, “Stop it, Durai. I had only asked him to tell you. I have nothing for him. Leave him alone”

“Why are you so concerned about him? Are you in love with him?” Durai shouted

“I told you I have no love for him. I feel bad because he gets beaten for what I asked him to do. In fact, I have no fancy for him. He is a puny bookworm and nothing more. I beg you to leave him alone”

Durai gave one final kick and went away laughing with his buddies in the knowledge that Sumitra did not love me. I lay there, shattered not by the blows of Durai but by the hurt and disbelief caused by Sumitra’s words. Are all the exchanges and interactions since the beginning of the year a deception, I wondered?

Both avoided each other studiously, and I could see a spring in Durai’s Walk after that violent incident.

The day after the final examinations were over, Anusha, a common friend, came home and gave me an envelope.” Please read this and I will come in the evening to collect your reply. Sumi is such a nice girl. You will understand,” said Anusha before leaving.

“My dear Raju,

You must be having a very low opinion of me, and I understand that. But I could not bear, that brute hitting you like a murderer, overcome by jealousy that I love you. He has seen us together many times and always talked derogatorily of you. The only way, I felt I could save you that day from being killed, was by proclaiming that I hated you and satisfying his ego.

Please understand and forgive me. These days of silence between us have been torture. I am looking forward to spending four years at the college with you, and who knows, thereafter? Send me a reply through Anusha that you have forgiven me, and that I can always come to you with problems in mathematics.

Love, S”

As I jumped in joy and made a jig, my mom entered the room and asked me, “Why are you dancing, Raju? Any good news?”

I hugged my mom and said nothing except for a smile.