Hyde's tales

The contender

2017-04-06T23:58:00.002+05:30

Since when did you start riding a Royal Enfield?’ she asked while stirring her cup of coffee.

‘It’s been a year. You follow motorcycles?’

‘I like only Royal Enfield motorcycles. I like their thumping sound, and the feeling that I get when I sit on the seat.. of something tall like a horse. My father has one’ she added proudly.

We were meeting for the first time, having made acquaintance in a group that were fans of Royal Enfield motorcycles.

‘I am not agreeing to meet you because I am interested in you. I am only interested in seeing your motorcycle’ she replied in her message when I suggested that we meet.

I was in no mood to be interested. A relationship has just soured and I was not keen to ‘find’ someone else so soon. I was just curious about her.

It was a good 4 hours before we realised how much time we spent talking about things that were not about the motorcycle, or its brand.

‘I won't get a bus to go back home now’, she groaned.

‘I could drop you home’, I suggested.

She hesitated. I knew I got her attention.

‘Alright’ she said and paused for a moment. ‘But that doesn’t mean I am interested in you’, she warned me.

I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I am offering you a ride back home only because it is late...'

‘8pm isn’t late’, she scoffed. ‘But you will not get a rickshaw to take you back home, because... you know it’s too far for them’, I reminded her.

We stood, waiting for the other to react.

‘Well?’ she asked. ‘Let’s go’, I said.

The ride to her house was mostly quiet, save for the thumping sound from the motorcycle. She sat sidewards and her left hand gripped the backrest: she wanted to make sure she gave me no signals. I turned one of the mirrors to see what she was doing: she had a big grin on her face as she surveyed the road ahead. When she realised that I was looking at her reflection, she looked away.

Soon we stopped at the entrance of a street that lead to her house.

‘Thanks’ she said, and grinned. We bade each other goodbye and I set off towards home. But I could not get her out of my head.

A few weeks later, she called me to ask if I had returning from a road trip the previous evening. ‘I saw all these Royal Enfield motorcycles on the road. They were dressed in riding gear and I was wondering if you were one of them’ she said breathlessly.

‘Could have been my friends’, I murmured. I was amused that she called just to ask about this, but something told me that she wanted to keep in touch despite her best self-preserving intentions.

I began to find excuses to catch up with her. She didn’t seem to mind, but she would also tell me that she was not interested in me. It sounded like she was warning herself more than she was warning me!

As time passed, things began to change between us. A few years later, I decided to take the plunge. I went to a jewellery store, carefully looked at each ring before settling for the one. Armed with a small red box, I returned home. But I had to decide on a place, a date and an excuse before I proposed. It had to be perfect.

Each day I tried to ignore the small box telling myself that I must have a good plan so that she would agree. I played out various scenarios in my head but none of them seemed right. I knew she loved me, but was it good enough for her to agree to spend the rest of her life with me? I was sure it was, but I was also sure that she would ask for time. Rejection appeared inevitable.

Meanwhile, the motorcycle began to give trouble on account of its old age. I began to spend more weekends with the mechanic than with her. On the other hand, she was happy to be with me at the workshop! This girl is weird but she is also a keeper, I told myself.

A few weeks later, after another weekend visit to the workshop, I started the topic.

'You know, I have been thinking. It's time to sell this and buy a new motorcycle. Something faster, something more reliable...'.

‘No! You are not selling the motorcycle. I love it! I love it more than I love you!’, she yelled angrily. She grabbed a nearby chair and sat with her head in her hands.

Something clicked in my head.

‘If you accept this, then I will not sell the motorcycle’, I said to her. As she lifted her head from her hands, she saw that I was holding a ring. She looked at the ring, and then at me. She looked at the ring again, and I saw her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears.

‘How dare you make me cry and then propose!’ she cried as she pummelled me. I laughed and enveloped her in a tight hug. ‘If you love my motorcycle more than me, then you are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with’.

Azhagiyae! Marry me, marry me, azhagiyae!
Flirt With Me, Get High With Me
Azhagiyae...
Kovam vandhdhaa, koochcham vandhdhaa, don’t worry
Azhagiyae ae azhagiyae

She sank into my arms, and whispered a barely-heard ‘yes’.

Then she pulled away, sniffed and said,'Only if you promise not to sell the motorcycle. You can get any motorcycle that you want, but this motorcycle stays with us whether you like it or not'.

A year later, we were married. What is a few hundred rupees a month to pay for parking space when it offers a lifetime of peace and happiness.

The dream

2015-08-23T02:06:00.001+05:30

'I wish I had something to say too', I cribbed to myself as I trudged towards my room.

An hour ago, we 4 friends had sat in front of a bonfire and exchanged 'horror stories'- describing our experiences that included a supernatural element. Like every other time when others narrated their adventures, cracked jokes, or just sang songs, I could only muster up something lame, or, like this time, nothing at all!

I entered the room to find that Ed had already tucked himself in. He was feeling quite tired and had begged off around a half-hour before me.

I took the bed between him and the door. The room had a large window on three sides and Ed took up the fourth side that opened into a bathroom. The mild snores coming from Ed confirmed that he was already in deep sleep. I looked at my watch- it was a little past midnight.

I could feel the temperature fluctuate in the room. It must have been only ten minutes after I curled up to sleep that it began to get unbearably warm. Realising that a sweater was useless in the warmth, I took it off and slept with a thin sheet. Then heavy rain followed and I began to feel cold again. I wrapped the sheet tightly around me and somehow managed to fall asleep.

All of a sudden, a tug on the sheet woke me up. The tug grew more persistent and began to pull me towards one side. I yelled in fright and the sheet fell back on to me. I broke into a cold sweat, and did not dare to open my eyes. I slowly reached out for the sheet and quickly pulled it up to my face, breathing rapidly.

It was only a few minutes, but felt like eternity before I dared to open one eye and squint at the room around me. I could sense weird shapes in the room, but told myself that the darkness in the room was playing tricks on me.

I looked at my watch- it was a few minutes past two.

'Ed?’ I called out in a low voice.

'Hmm?’ he responded.

I was not sure what to say next. Would Ed believe me if I said that I felt something tug at my sheet? Before I could think anything else, the words spilled out of my mouth.

'I heard you whimpering. I thought you must be dreaming. Looks like you were', he said and got up.

I looked around the room after Ed switched the light on. The room was exactly how it was supposed to be. Our bags were stacked in a corner, my slippers were by the side of my bed, and the door was bolted from the inside. No one could have broken in and tugged at my sheet. Why would an intruder want to wake me up at all?

'See, you were dreaming. Those horror stories we talked about by the bonfire must have been playing in your head', Ed said and went back to switch off the light. 'Relax and don't think about it. Just go to sleep'.

'Alright', I said unconvinced. That tug felt quite strong yet it could have been just a nightmare.

Yes, it was just a nightmare. I fell asleep again.

I woke again when I felt another tug on the sheet. The tug was stronger this time and it looked like I was going to get yanked off the bed. I yelled again but did not dare to look to see what or who was tugging at the sheet.

I slowly turned towards Ed. 'I felt the tug again, and this time it was stronger' I mumbled.

'I heard you whimper again, it is just a dream' he replied sleepily.

'It was quite freaky' I mumbled to myself.

I grew cold when a voice whispered at me from the opposite end. 'It is, isn't it?'

The book

2014-04-04T15:20:00.000+05:30

'Is that a new book?' she asked, pointing at the book that I was holding.

'Yes. It's called "Frankly Spooking", written by a blogger I know', I replied.

'How many books will you buy? What about those?' she asked, pointing at the stack of unread books near me.

I grinned and said that I would read them after I finished the one in my hands.

She shook her head, knowing that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. 'I am going to sleep. When will you be done?'

'Last 15 pages or so.'

'Have you finished the book already?'

'No, I am reading only the last story. It is longer than the rest.'

'Please don't wake me up! I need my sleep tonight' she said grumpily, and disappeared into the bedroom.

* * * * *
Ten minutes later, I put the book down and walked towards the bedroom, mentally imagining the story unfold in front of me.

I shivered involuntarily.

I opened the door to the bedroom and found her reading a book.

'I need my sleep tonight' I mimicked her. 'What are you reading now?'

'Your spooky book. I couldn't sleep so I started reading it.'

'Huh? But I left the book on the table in the hall', I said turning to look at the table.

The book was still there. I turned back in shock.

'Whaddya mean...' I began.

At that very moment, the lights went out.

The swansong

2012-07-04T17:43:00.000+05:30

It will be my swansong.

'This movie is going to be my swansong, my last achievement' I thought to myself with determination.

And this scene is what they will talk about after I am gone. With awe-struck expressions on their faces and respect in their voices, they will speak about it. It has been going on for a long time, the derision and the mocking of my recent roles. They say that I am too old, that I have lost my touch.

'What do they know about me!' The thought almost escaped as a growl from my lips.

All around me were the crew, busying themselves in getting ready for the take. The assistants scurried around while the director was animatedly explaining to the cameraman how he wanted the scene to be shot.

I looked around, and saw a young man getting made up. He was an upcoming star, and was being touted as the next superstar. The one who would inherit the mantle from me.

'Ha! Nothing more than an amateur', I thought bitterly. A few of my films had flopped and the media was quick to denounce me, and announce the end of the road for me.

I will show them all, especially this young star, what acting is really about.

The scene, that we are going to shoot, is the opening scene of the movie where I am killed by a man wielding a gun. Why it happens forms the story. The upcoming star, my successor, was going to wield the gun and 'finish' me off.

Ironic.

It was time for the take. The crew assembled at their respective places. The young man walks up to me and says that his dream as a teenager was to work with me, and he is happy that it has finally come true.

Maybe he isn't such a bad sort after all.

The director bellowed at us to get ready for the shot. The clapper announced the start of the take and we began.

This was going to be a perfect take. I could feel it in my bones.

As I finished my line, he raised his gun and shot me. I was ready with the right facial expression to show that right mix of surprise, hurt, anger and pain. I felt blood splatter on my shirt and found myself collapsing.

Yes, it is a perfect take.

* * * * *

The media announced the tragic death of one of the finest actors that the country had produced. The actor was shooting a scene with the country's upcoming star when he was shot using a gun that had real bullets in it.

'The performance was so realistic that we stood there transfixed before bursting into applause. No one realised that he was actually shot' the director said.

The police are investigating the case as that of negligence but have not ruled out murder as yet.

The manager

2011-12-19T09:20:00.000+05:30

I walked up to her desk and found her talking to one of the members of her team. I hung around patiently for around 10 minutes. I sometimes amaze myself... at how patient I can be. Normally, I would have given myself 4 minutes tops.

Finally, their talk got over and I went over and said hello. She looked up at me, questioningly.

'It is about that information engineer opening in your team. I had called, asking to speak with you a few minutes ago', I said.

'Oh yes, were you waiting all this time? I am so sorry!' she began apologising profusely and got up almost immediately.

Now I am not used to a manager apologising to me, let alone something as trivial as waiting for 10 minutes.

She began describing the requirements, the expectations of the candidate and things in general, standing all the time. Managers rarely stand up when speaking to someone unless it is someone they respect a lot- usually someone higher up in the organisation. And with the kind of informal culture we had in our office, no one stood up to talk unless they wanted to. We usually remain seated or offer a chair. I think we take it to the extremes when it comes to being informal.

Now this incident could have passed off as an aberration. While I stood still at my place, she kept fidgeting. First she stood in front of me, and then slowly backed by a step. Then she moved to my right and leaned onto a chair. Then she moved back to the desk, in a bid to perch herself on it.

I tried to keep my amusement under check. Soon the talk ended, and I walked over to a colleague's desk not far away from the manager's.

'Tea?' I asked. 'Why not! Give me a minute; let me save my work' she responded.

Soon we were seated, sipping our teas in silence. I guess the previous incident was sub-consciously playing in my mind.

'I have been noticing you for some time now. You have been smiling to yourself for no reason. What's the reason?' she asked. I grinned, but divulged nothing. Playing a little hard to get is so much fun. After a minute's prodding, I described what happened but didn't reveal who the person was.

She laughed. 'It looks like this person has a mild crush on you. Who is she?'

I looked towards the far end of the cafeteria and noticed the manager walking in.

'Your manager.'

My white flag

2011-07-29T20:51:00.002+05:30

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were

'I know what you want to say. And I know you also know what I will say. But I will say it anyway. Your loving me or not doesn't matter to me. I know in time you will' I said.

She sighed deeply and shook her head. 'It's of no use.'

'I am willing to wait' I persisted.

'You know it doesn't work this way. You have been telling me this for the last one year. Has anything changed since then?' she demanded.

'I know something has, which is why I am willing to wait.'

'It's useless to reason with you.'

'See you know me so well, might as well give up, yes?' I grinned.

She smiled weakly. 'If it were only that simple...'

I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

That was many, many years ago.

Come to think it of it, it was only a few years ago!

I had heard of people rebounding onto someone else. I always wondered how it happened. Because I never rebounded onto anyone.

Till she came along.

But today, as I heard this song again, it brought back memories- sweetly painful ones.

Of resolve, of conviction, of reasons to persevere.

And then, of doubt, of being incapable to wait indefinitely.

No, I wasn't going to give up, I had told myself then. One does not just give up on the sweetest thing one has found, only because... well, in hindsight, that was a good reason to give up.

The song, it served to remind me of something that I had forgotten in time.

How I had given up that day itself.

The proposal

2011-04-23T21:43:00.002+05:30

'So, what have you decided?' Mom asked me sternly.

'About what?'

I wondered what made her become stern suddenly. Oh, I had not gotten back to her on articles about outsourcing to India, I realised.

As I tried to make peace, something told me the issue is something else.

'Your time is up', she said.

'What time?' I got the feeling my inability to grasp the situation was considered deliberate.

'The time you asked. March 2011. I told you that your days of being single will end on March 31. That is when I will start looking for you', she glared.

There goes my weekend, I thought. I had to buy time, and quickly.

'I want some more time...' I began, when she cut in.

'No more time for you. I have had it. Our neighbour Nirmala has approached us with a proposal.'

'Is that so?'

'Yes, the girl is in the US. She is the daughter of one of their relatives. She feels you two will make a fine match.'

'Don't they all' I murmured to myself.

'So, I am going to tell her to send the girl's photo to me. I will send it to you when I get it.'

'Ma, not so soon. I am taking a couple of interviews this week. Let's see how they go and then we can think about this proposal.' I just had to buy time, any excuse will do for now.

'Hmm, ok. Next week you will tell me how the interviews went'

'Yes Ma' I said meekly.

* * * * *

'I don't like working here anymore' she told me.

'Why da, the US is not treating you well? You got this assignment after a lot of arguments with your manager and now you don't like it? Why?' I asked.

'It is because you are not here! And I miss you like crazy. I want to return to Bangalore now.' she cried.

'I know da. Just hold on for a little while' I tried to pacify her.

'How can I remain calm when you tell me your mother has a proposal for you?'

I cursed myself for bringing it p. The stupid things we men do in the name of honesty and openness...

'And my parents tell me there is a software engineer in Bangalore who they think is a good match for me.'

Aha! Now I know the cause of this storm.

'Some guy in Bangalore whose parents are in Madras. My relative is their neighbour.'

'Hush hush my darling. We'll find a way out soon. Let these interviews get over and I'll tell my folks about you'

'And you think they'll accept me?'

'Why shouldn't they? They just want me to settle down.'

It seemed to calm her down. After a few minutes, we ended the phone conversation.

Another calamity averted. Quick thinking my boy, I said to myself.

* * * * *

It was only many weeks later that we realised how small the world really is.

The blogger

2010-11-24T23:28:00.002+05:30

'My real name is Anupa. The name you got from my blog is not my real name, though it sounds very realistic' she laughed.

My cogs in my mind began to turn, trying furiously to recall where I had heard the name before, before settling down to return a memory of a person who used to blog a long time ago.

What was her blog called, I asked myself. And the mind returned "apuna"- her name in reverse.

But that was many years ago and I had later met some women who were also called Anupa. I shrugged the coincidence away and concentrated on the task at hand- my bowl of ice-cream.

She continued talking about her life in Delhi and how she was getting used to a different yet exciting life in Bangalore. I nodded along.

'I didn't make many friends in the blog world back then' she continue. 'I was more keen on writing when I wanted. I already had friends in my real world. But there was one person I remember who, for lack of proper words, went beyond.'

'Hmm...?' There were so many like that for me.

'Of course, I don't remember her name very well now. It has been so many years. We used to talk about the boy she was seeing then. That, and her college life'

Her voice took a more animated tone as she tried to remember every thing, digging deep into the recesses of her mind.

'And I remember her blog template was quite unusual. It was so nice that I wanted a copy for myself. But she refused to give it to me since her boyfriend had made it specially for her.'

She smiled. 'I could understand the sentiment, and didn't ask her after that.'

'Oh' I said simply.

'Yeah and her boyfriend had an unusual name for a blogger- Tusitala. Apparently it is a name R. L. Stevenson adopted some time later in his life.'

'Tusitala... a black blog with a white writing area. And the template you asked for was a white notebook with black borders. Yes?'

'Oh, you read them too?'

'In a way. I used to blog as Tusitala.'

The restaurant

2010-01-06T19:51:00.000+05:30

'You could have listened to me.' she began.

He looked up from the menu card he was reading.

'What's wrong with the restaurant I chose? They serve good food and the ambience is wonderful. But you had to choose this place. This! Dull walls. Plain furniture. Old table mats. And the food is just about ok.' she continued.

He smiled.

'Don't smile at me!' she glared at him. 'Tell me why you wanted to come here.'

He sighed deeply and put the menu card aside.

Then leaning forward, he said softly 'I'd take quiet restaurant with dull ambience and average food any day over good food and wonderful ambience. You want to know why?'

She nodded.

'Because when I am looking at you, I don't want to hear bawling children and loud parents. Because when I am looking at you, I don't want to be distracted by the food I am served. Because when I am looking at you, I don't want to look over your shoulder and gaze at the wall behind you.'

Leaning back, he asked with a smile 'So shall we go to the place you chose?'

The test

2009-10-19T21:29:00.001+05:30

'Is this one of your tests?' she asked me.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. The expression on her face, one of pain.

I looked away. She knew that I knew that she knew she was right. I expected her to say 'I know'.

She didn't.

One point for her, my score still at zero. But I gave myself a -1 for making her teary.

'Why do you do this to me?' she persisted, her voice cracking a little in the end.

'I don't know' I maintained.

'You don't? Really?'

I didn't say anything. Neither did she, after that.

We stood in silence- I, by the window and she on a chair. The clock kept ticking, almost silently.

'You are worried I will eventually leave you' she began. 'So you want to see how much I can bear, to see if it is worth your while to stay on with me. Isn't it?'

'To see if you can bear with my crappy behaviour. To see if you are strong enough.'

'And you think I'll leave you like that?' she asked. I did not answer.

Truth is, I had no answer.

That was then.

She didn't leave.

I did.

The teacher

2009-04-28T11:50:00.004+05:30

'Mangalore is a nice place, that's where I come from' she said as we turned to leave.

'Bye bye teacher' I said before walking away with my mother.

That was the last time I saw her- Ms. Vijaya, my primary school teacher. I was leaving the school that day, and the city the following week.

Twenty-five years after that day, I crossed the school gate again.

Official business brought me to the city after all these years. It was quite unexpected; one does not expect to visit that part of the country on business. Especially when one's business is setting up a new industry.

The chowkidar looked at me questioningly. 'School ends at 2pm, you will have to wait' he said.

I nodded and walked inside. The main building hadn't changed much, recalling shades of yellow from the days back then.

I spotted a board titled "Principal". Knocking on the swinging door that opened to the Principal's office, I waited to hear someone say "Come in", but there was no answer.

'The Principal is on her rounds. She will be back in half an hour' I heard a lady say. 'I am the vice-principal. You are?' she asked.

'My name is Edward Hyde. I used to study here a long time ago, early 80s' I replied.

'Oh, I joined here much later. You've come here to...?'

'I haven't come here since I left back then, so I thought of seeing how things are'

She smiled. 'I have a few matters to look into. If you can wait for ten minutes, I can show you around.'

'Sure.'

We must have walked around the place for twenty minutes or so. The nursery class had been modified into a mini-library. The kindergarten class was still the same. The seats had changed from tables and benches for two to single desks. The playground hadn't changed at all.

Then the bell rang. Suddenly the quiet was replaced by a chattering buzz of excited children leaving for their homes. The buzz died out once the last set of children left.

We were back by the door to the Principal's office. A lady in her mid-fifties was sitting behind the desk. She looked up as the vice-principal and I entered.

'This gentleman had studied his first three years in school here. He wanted to meet you'

'Please sit down... and you are?' the Principal asked.

'Edward Hyde.'

'The name sounds familiar, but I am unable to place you. What do you do?'

'I work in Bangalore now.'

'Oh... actually I am from Mangalore...'

I could not help interrupting her.

'It is still a nice place.'

The classmate

2009-03-07T23:00:00.007+05:30

I stood on the railway platform scanning the boards to know where my coach would stop.

I had plenty of time to spare... an hour before the train would roll in.

I opened my bag intending to take out a book. That was when I spotted him.

We had studied together in the same class in high school. I was seeing him after many years. I was settled in a well paying job, had gotten married and even sported a few grey hairs. I heard he was still unmarried and had moved to the city only a few months ago. He had not changed much and looked only a few years older than when I last saw him.

That was fifteen years ago!

I walked up to him in a bid to renew acquaintance.

He was so engrossed in his book that he moved aside thinking I wanted some space! I casually put my hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

He slowly looked up at me.

And with a questioning look that sonofabitch then asked 'Yes Uncle?'

The best friend's wedding

2009-02-25T12:05:00.003+05:30

It was my best friend's wedding.

Rhea and I lived in the same neighbourhood, went to the same schools and even to the same college.

We knew each other inside out and would swap stories on school crushes or evaluate the other person's potential love interests while studying in college. We were never in love, at least that's what we told others.

But when we were finishing college, I realised I had fallen in love with her. And I never told her.

Not that I never had a chance, I never made use of the ones that came my way. Besides, we always told everyone we were very good friends. I was afraid to spoil the friendship we had, what if things went wrong after telling her?

The usual fear.

And that day, she was marrying a man she met at work. Her parents liked him, and his parents liked her. So there was nothing to stop them from going ahead.

I could only watch.

* * *

My father was hovering around, enquiring and making sure guests were happy. This wasn't a wedding in our family, but he felt she was his daughter as much as uncle's.

It was a sentiment shared by everyone in the family. The family also shared another sentiment- that my father and I would have more things in common. I don't know about my old man, but I certainly did.

I don't remember much of my younger days, what I do remember is the bond he and I shared. He was my Superman, there was nothing he could not do and he could do nothing wrong.

The teenage years of angst and rebellion damaged it all. We've all heard it before, haven't we? Things were never the same again between us. Clichéd, but true. The affection was there, sadly so was the emotional distance.

* * *

Presently my mother came and stood by my side. Nudging me, she whispered 'Look at your father, talking to his teenage crush'.

'Huh?'

I was surprised, a little shocked too. The old man had a teenage crush? I looked questioningly at my mother.

'I never told you, did I? She was your father's teenage crush- they grew up together. He never told her. She got married to someone else and went away. He doesn't know if she liked him just as much. I think she did.'

'I don't blame him for looking so happy on meeting her. I mean, she is still a stunner after all these years' I heard my mother say. I could not detect jealousy, wistfulness maybe.

* * *

I can never describe what went through me then.

I had always wanted to have something in common with my old man. Something other than looks or behaviour.

I wish it wasn't this.

Young love

2009-01-04T15:44:00.002+05:30

'Idiots you two are' I bellowed at them.

The boy and the girl looked at the ground, not daring to look at me.

'The time is 11.45 now. What time does your train leave?' I directed my tirade at the boy.

'12.10' the boy mumbled.

'Get onto my scooter' I ordered him.

The railway station was 25 kms from home. And the only thing that could get us there at that time of the night was my old but trusted Kinetic Honda.

The boy lived in Bangalore and the girl lived in my house as a paying guest. And they were in a relationship for a few months. The signs of young love were very much evident in how they still remained at my place when the boy should have been on his way to catch his train.

'Spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch' I muttered mimicking Anthony Hopkins in The World's Fastest Indian.

I, an old man aged 55, then rode like a mad man and dropped the boy at the railway station with minutes to spare.

The girl was waiting for me, sitting on the steps that leads to the door.

'It's okay now, he was able to catch his train on time' I grunted.

The girl quietly left to her room, but I thought I heard a faint sniff as she walked away.

It softened me a bit, but I continued to maintain an icy exterior and retired to my room.

I sat on my rocking chair, lit my pipe and inhaled slowly.

The face of my deceased wife smiled at me from her photograph, as if reminding me of something.

Something that happened 35 years ago when her father rushed me to a railway station in Bombay so that I could catch a train to Pune with a few minutes to spare.

The tickets

2008-06-12T23:04:00.009+05:30

Life in an event management company is a breeze. Talk, arrange and execute.

Putting it mildly.

Then there are days when everything is out of control and nothing falls into place. The times I look forward to in my work.

This time, I wished it wasn't so.

A movie was going to be released in two days. The local newspapers were informed that we were giving out a limited number of free tickets for the evening show on the day of the release.

All they had to do was come to the office with the clipping from a newspaper that said so. We sat back and waited.

The response from the public was a trickle. The response from my colleagues was overwhelming, ranging from 'Do you have a few tickets? My girlfriend wants to watch the movie.' to 'Oh, no tickets for the late night show? Pshaw!'

A day before the movie I got a call from a colleague.

'I have the clipping, but I am not coming to office today. I'll take them tomorrow morning, keep two for me. Ok?' she asked.

'Ok' I said simply.

In the evening, my cousin called. 'Hey, two tickets for the evening show?'

'When are you taking them?'

'Err... I don't read the papers, so I don't have the clipping. You think you can manage to put aside two? You know...?' the cousin paused.

'Actually we ran out of tickets' I lied. 'By the way, we are meeting over lunch tomorrow, right? How does one o'clock sound?'

At lunch, I got a call from the office. We had half a dozen tickets left. So I asked the cousin if he still wanted two tickets. I expected a heart-warming yes.

'Naah' he replied dismissively.

'Give them to the staff. First come, first served' I said and ended the call.

The evening was a bore, the only bright spot was the few books I picked up from the book store.

Dinner was simple and it was time to sleep. But sleep eluded me. So I picked up the nearest unread book. It was a Peter Temple crime fiction novel called "Bad Debts".

I flipped to the bookmark at page 123.

The horse shone like glass, groomed to a standard only achievable by ten-year-old girls. It had pristine bandages on all legs. I knew enough about condition to know this creature was well advanced in his preparation to race...

At that moment, my phone beeped. It was a message from the colleague.

'We enjoyed the movie. Thanks for the tickets.'

The message was sent by the cousin.

Afterthought: The story also works as my response to a tag propagated by Surya (and later by Extempore). Feel free to take up the tag.

Untitled

2008-05-10T16:10:00.002+05:30

Have you left? Nearing Subway

He punched out the letters on his phone as he waited for the signal to change. He hurriedly punched a few more buttons to send the message.

A minute later, he stopped next to Subway and looked at his phone.

The word Send was highlighted. The message was never sent.

He swore under his breath and began editing the message. Cannot say nearing Subway, he thought to himself.

He had hardly erased a few letters when he saw her walking towards him. Completely unaware.

He waved; there was no reaction. Leaning a little to the right, he tried once more.

It worked.

'What are you doing here?' It was more of an exclamation than a question. The look on her face was a mixture of surprise, happiness and bewilderment. And it made him happy.

'How did you know I would be here now?' she persisted.

The look on her face robbed him of the words he wanted to say.

'Good timing, don't you think?' he asked instead.

Tere pyaar mein, dil haar ke
Maine kya paaya, kya gavaaya

Two guys and a girl - Version 4

2008-03-03T21:26:00.001+05:30

'Well... I don't know how things will proceed from here' he began. 'I only know that things cannot work out between us, the situation is such.'

I nodded.

'She walked out on me. I couldn't stop her out of helplessness. I wish I did something else, I wish I wasn't what I was then...'

Unknown to himself, he was blabbering. In such a state this kind of behaviour is normal.

'I think she is seeing someone else now. She vaguely hinted at it but did not tell me who. I did not ask, somehow it didn't seem right.'

'Hmm' I murmured.

'Anyway, there are things I got to do now. Important client is visiting tomorrow and I have to prepare a presentation. And I have taken a lot of your time' he sounded apologetic.

'That's alright, we can speak later. Chin up, things will be alright' I told him and disconnected the phone.

Two days later, she called me.

'You know what its like Eddie. I cannot forget him and I think it is the same with him. But I do not dare ask, after all I was the one who walked out of the relationship. If he had only stopped me...' she trailed off.

'Yes, you told me before' I murmured, almost to myself.

There was silence for a few minutes.

'How are you doing?' she asked me.

'Oh fine, just fine. Can get better though.'

'I am glad' she said. She sounded like a person with a relieved smile.

'I did tell you I will be alright. This is not the first time that something didn't work out. The situation is so familiar that I can walk out it with my eyes closed.' I said.

'Yes, you told me before. But I am not as emotionally strong as you are. I wish I could... I am sorry I rebounded onto you.'

Winning battles, losing wars

2008-02-05T23:29:00.000+05:30

I like quizzing. So I joined a quizzing club in Bangalore when I moved from Madras. It had become such an integral part of me that I couldn't think of not continuing what I loved doing in Madras.

It was there that I first met him. He was the quiet type, or so you would think. Once he got used to a person, the real him would take centre-stage. A few months later, we realised what we felt for each other was more than just friendship.

But it hardly lasted long. I had finally gotten somewhere career-wise and wanted to concentrate on it. It meant moving out of Madras. He supported my decision, but could not move out as well.

A long-distance relationship is never easy. We parted ways a few months later. My last meeting with him was at the airport when I went to see him off.

A few years later, I was in Madras for a quiz contest. I didn't expect to see him, or maybe I was just fooling myself. He is an avid quizzer as I am, I reasoned.

The contest was well fought. My team trumped his by a few points. After the prizes were announced, I walked up to him.

'Hi' I said, extending my hand.

He hesitated before shaking mine. 'I didn't think you would come up and say hi' he added.

I didn't know what to say. There was a moment's silence when I heard a voice call out his name.

A moment later, a woman stood by his side, linking her arm with his. I looked questioningly at him.

He cleared his throat. 'This is Maggi... we got engaged last week'. After a pause, he turned to her and said 'This is Anna'.

'Oh' she said. From that terse comment, I gathered he told her all about me.

'We've got to go now, dinner plans you know' he looked apologetic. I nodded slightly and added 'I know' with a forced smile.

As they walked away from me, I knew that though I won my battle today, I lost the war.

The dream

2008-01-06T16:09:00.000+05:30

We were watching a movie on the television- she and I. With numerous channels to choose from, a random channel showing a random movie resulted. Not that it bothered us- we just wanted to idle our time away.

Together.

The television blared while both of us watched the plot of the movie unfold. Our eyes were glued to the screen, but our minds were elsewhere. I knew it and she knew it. The silence between us spoke volumes.

She shifted on the couch to make herself more comfortable. In doing so, she moved closer to me. Hmmm?

A few minutes later, she shifted again- this time snuggling upto me.

If I don't make a move now, I am certainly daft. But there are times when my mind refuses to listen to itself.

'Won't you switch off the light?' I heard her murmur.

I turned to look at her. She looked up at me. A look of plaintive innocence was all over her face, but I knew it masked the mischief within.

I grinned and leaned over her to turn off the light.

I awoke with a start and switched on the lamp beside me. It isn't unusual to have erotic dreams- I've had plenty before. But they all stopped just before I made my move.

'Won't you switch off the light?' I heard her mumble from under the quilt.

I smiled to myself as I switched the light off. Sometimes reality is better than a dream, no matter how infrequent it is.

Two guys and a girl - Version 3

2007-12-03T22:01:00.000+05:30

It was my first week at the new place of work. I was slowly getting used to seeing new faces, and they in turn were trying hard to get used to seeing me work from an odd location- the cramped area next to the office photocopier.

The team had expanded rapidly in a few weeks. The large influx of new hires had thrown a spanner in the administration's works. It was evident from their frustrated expressions as they struggled to find seats for newcomers.

It was in one of those days that I saw her. Having joined a year before me, she wasn't new to the place. But what worked against her was the year old assignment in the US- which meant someone else occupied her place when she was away. She and I have something in common, I thought to myself.

She had temporarily taken up place in the neighbouring training hall, but the nature of her work caused her to come into my hall a few times every day. Most importantly, to the part of the hall where I sat. Our eyes locked onto each other when both of us happened to look in the others' direction.

I began to look for ways to introduce myself to her, but the opportunity hardly came by. Fate, however, works in mysterious ways. After the seating re-organisation, we found ourselves sitting in the neighbouring cubicles.

What happened next was only natural. A week later, we were chatting like old buddies.

One day he came. The two of them worked on the same project when they were in the US. He had returned for a week, just to catch up on the situation here before heading back. And they appeared to be very thick friends.

That left me in the cold. A wave of jealousy burnt me every time I spotted them together. She was oblivious to it, denying me the chance to vent my frustration. It only made things worse for me.

He returned to the US a week later. And she left the company the following month. I had a feeling he would send his resignation from the US and join her wherever she was.

* * * * *

The memory had finished playing in my head when he walked up to me.

'So when are you leaving?' I asked, smiling. We were casual acquaintances and I had no reason to be jealous of him anymore.

'Tomorrow' he replied.

'And when are you returning?'

'Perhaps a few months later. Or maybe a few weeks! You never know when the fellows here want me to fly back just to appraise them of the situation there' he laughed. And then he asked 'When are you leaving?'

'The day after tomorrow' I grinned.

He smiled. 'Say hi to her for me... you have her number, right?' he asked.

I nodded. We wished each other good luck, shook hands and then he walked away.

I never thought I would be the one putting in my papers and joining her wherever she would be.

Two guys and a girl - Version 2

2007-11-19T23:28:00.000+05:30

I seem to have run out of motivation and inspiration. Till they make an entry in my head, here is something that was written two years ago.

The three of us were standing there and talking. Two guys and a girl, in a wedding hall.

Three people who used to study in the same classroom- many, many years ago.

Saying she had a phone call to make, she excused herself and left.

There were a few moments of silence.

'You used to have a crush on her at school, remember?' he asked me.

I laughed.

'Yeah, and I thought she and I would live happily ever after.'

'Are you unhappy with the way things turned out? That she chose someone else to get married to?'

I knew his concern was well-founded. But it didn't matter anymore.

'Of course not! It was just a teenage crush and nothing more. Surely you know how these things are!'

He nodded.

'Besides... she could not have chosen a better guy' I added with a grin.

He smiled.

'I am glad you think that way about us.'

Afterthought: The one that started it all is here.

Private investigations

2007-10-02T21:21:00.000+05:30

A story that took me almost two years to complete.

* * *

It's a mystery to me
The game commences
For the usual fee
Plus expenses

I work as a private investigator. My office is on the third floor of a decrepit building. The paint is peeling off the walls and the ceiling is cracked. Times are hard and clients are few. The job doesn't pay well, but a guy's got to do something for a living.

Confidential information
It's in a diary
This is my investigation
It's not a public inquiry

So what do I investigate? Unreliable employees, cheating spouses, digging up the past of a future son-in-law or daughter-in-law. I do them all. If there is something you want to know, you come to me.

My work is a source of tension at home. Especially the lack of money part. The wife stopped airing her complaints, once she realised whatever she said would not have an effect on me. We hardly talk unless it is necessary.

The son has ideas similar to his mother. My lack of social graces embarass him; he'd rather be seen without me.

In whole, strangers live under a roof.

I go checking out the report
Digging up the dirt
You get to meet all sorts
In this line of work

One day, a man walked in. He suspected his wife was cheating on him. He wanted proof he could show his divorce lawyer. And the money was big. I was surprised, but shrugged the thought away. After all, it is his money, his life.

Treachery and treason
There's always an excuse for it
And when I find the reason
I still can't get used to it

It did not take me very long to find out who the lover was. A week later, I followed the woman from a distance as she drove to meet her lover. The camera snapped away, and soon I had emptied my film roll. My client would soon get the proof he wanted; he would be happy. I knew I wasn't.

And what have you got at the end of the day?
What have you got to take away?
A bottle of whisky and a new set of lies
Blinds on the window
And a pain behind the eyes

I had made an extra copy of a photograph that showed the faces of the woman and her lover very clearly. I put it in an envelope and placed it on the table.

In my son's bedroom.

Scarred for life
No compensation
Private investigations

Closure

2007-09-01T03:02:00.000+05:30

We lay in an embrace. My arm gently caressed her, while she drew random patterns on my chest.

'Ed..?' she began.

'I'll be with you, forever and a day. It will work. We can make it work' I interrupted her.

She looked up at me, her eyes full of surprise. 'How did you know what I was going to ask?'

'I know you well' I said simply.

* * * * *

Many months later. We were on our way to the airport. I had a flight to catch in an hour's time. She pulled over as soon as we crossed the entry gate.

'Ed...' she began and paused.

I didn't say anything and let her continue.

She took a deep breath and continued. 'It will not work between us. I am sorry things didn't work out the way we planned.'

I continued looking ahead, as if there was no one in the car. Without turning my head, I replied. 'I am not the one to toot my horn. But you will never find someone like me. Remember that.'

'I know. I hope I never have to regret this.'

'I hope you do' I replied immediately. The words came out before I could check them. I sometimes surprise myself.

'Wha...?'

'I just wish that someday all those who put me in this predicament will look back and wish this never happened. And I want know that when it happens. Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn what you think of me right now.'

She kept quiet. She started the car and drove towards the departure terminal.

I got out, removed my bag and turned to walk away.

'Ed... will you keep in touch?'

I looked at her, not knowing whether I should say something rude or nothing at all. 'I cannot promise' I said instead.

I began walking towards a queue that was slowly forming at the entrance to the departure terminal. I couldn't bring myself to turn back and look at her for the last time.

* * * * *

Many years later.

It started as a call that I felt I should make.

It wasn't easy. But an hour later, I reached a level of comfort that reminded me of the initial days. It was a little unsettling.

'It is getting late and I have an early meeting tomorrow, I mean today' I said.

'You were making those statements for the sake of arguing, weren't you? I know you Ed, I know you well' she said triumphantly.

I couldn't deny it.

'Good night Anna' I said instead and disconnected.

The closure that I thought I had, I got it today.

Eternal sunshine of two spotless minds, Part III

2007-08-11T23:29:00.001+05:30

A few minutes later they were seated across the hypnotist's desk, in his clinic as he liked to call it.

There was silence for some time, each willing the other to start first. The hypnotist cleared his throat and waited. Seeing no response, he began.

'You see, it is like this. I help people erase memories.'

He paused to see the effect of his statement. The man and the woman looked confused.

'Erase memories?' the man asked.

'Yes. People have different reasons to forget their past. I am sorry, some of their past. I have devised a technique that does just that. Using hypnotherapy, I delve into people's minds, make them talk about it and then remove it from their memory. I haven't seen it fail.'

'So far, so good' he added, rapping lightly on his desk.

'However, there is one issue. Once the treatment completes, the person begins to experience gaps in his memory. Understandably, he doesn't recall certain things, there is a sense of deja vu that he cannot explain...'

'Exactly! I have the same problem' the man interrupted excitedly.

'I know. One of my earlier patients had this problem. Luckily for her, I had forgotten to erase the memory of having met me. So when she met me a few weeks after her treatment, I was able to explain this to her. Then on, I resorted to leaving a card with my number in the person's purse or wallet before I began the treatment... which is how you were able to locate me' he smiled at the man.

There was silence for a few moments.

'So what memories did I want to erase?' the man asked.

The hypnotist fidgeted a little. 'Her memory' he gestured to the woman.

'WHAT!' they cried in unison. The hypnotist nodded his head.

'I couldn't believe it when I saw the two of you together... The two of you were in a relationship for some time till a few months ago. After mutual consent, the two of you decided to separate. But the memories were so strong that you couldn't stay apart. Nor could you reconcile. That was when I came in.'

He turned to look at the woman.

'You had heard about me through a friend of yours. We began the treatment. A few days later, while your treatment was going on...' he turned to the man, '... you came to see me for the same reason, aware of her reason to visit me.'

'The treatment ended and the two of you went separate ways. I never heard from either of you till today.'

'Didn't you experience the same problems as him?' the hypnotist asked the woman.

The woman hesitated. 'I did... but I did not have a card on me. I thought I should see a doctor, but I kept putting it off. When he described the card, I got curious and urged him to meet you. I never thought...' she trailed off.

There was a longer silence this time. Neither spoke nor moved. The hypnotist had to break the silence again.

'I don't know what to tell you. Quite a few people have consulted me, wanting to forget their past relationships, but never did any one of them get back again. Maybe the two of you are destined to be together, in spite of your differences. Relationships have their ups and downs, how you take it in your stride shows committed you are.'

Silence hung over them again. The man was the first to speak.

'I think we should leave now. Thank you for your help.' The man and the woman left the clinic quietly.

A few days later, the hypnotist walked down the street to the cafe. He spotted the man and the woman walking towards him. They didn't notice him, they were busy talking animatedly like lovers do.

The hypnotist smiled. 'This is what I call starting with a clean slate' he said to himself.

Concluded.

Inter-aisle love song

2007-07-31T22:42:00.001+05:30

'...and I want to deactivate the value-add service. How long will it take?'

'Please hold on sir.'

The quality of the customer service was getting to him. Only a few minutes more, he told himself, just hold for a few more minutes.

And that's when it happened.

The faint smell of a perfume got his attention and he turned to look.

Tall and fair, with untied hair that fell below her shoulders, she took his breath away.

'Sir? Sir... excuse me sir?' The customer care professional at the other end of the line. He had forgotten he was waiting for a response. 'Only momentarily' he tried to convince himself.

'Uhh? Yes yes, tell me.'

'It will be deactivated within 24 hours. Anything else?'

There wasn't anything else. The only thing he wanted was to see where she went. But it was too late. He had lost her. He did not lose hope; he knew she worked in the same floor. He would see her soon.

****

She brought her lunch that day, but decided to take what was served at the cafeteria. When she returned, she found a person sitting opposite her at the table. Somebody she had never seen before.

'Must be from the other team. Never saw him in ours', she thought to herself.

While she talked with her colleagues, she noticed he ate his lunch quietly. He hardly looked up from his plate, seemingly intent on finishing his lunch as soon as possible.

Then on, their paths kept crossing regularly. Be it in the morning when they entered the building, during coffee-breaks or at lunch-time. They noticed each other, but neither said nor did anything.

An aisle separated the two large halls in the building. The walls of both the halls had large glass windows. One could easily see the entire expanse of a hall from outside.

One day as he walked towards the door of his hall, he noticed her at her cubicle. In the other hall.

'So that's where she sits' he told himself.

That evening as she walked to the cafeteria, she noticed him at his cubicle.

'So that's where he sits' she told herself.

Unknown to each other, both began to look for the other whenever they passed each other's hall, be at the cafeteria when the other was likely to be there or be loud enough to get the other's attention.

Occasionally when their eyes met, both turned away almost instantly. The stalemate continued.

****

'We are shifting some of you from here to the neighbouring hall', his manager told him one day.

'But that hall is occupied by the other team', he said with a slight note of alarm.

'Yes, some of them are moving out to another building. We are getting cramped here. And some of you are moving there today to take the free places. The places are scattered, so you will have to share the cubicle with the people of the other team.'

He did not know what to say or do. He kept hoping she was not one of those moving out. His heart sank when his manager pointed out his new place. It was in her cubicle.

'Is my place going to be in that cubicle?' he asked.

'Yes...why, do you have a problem?'

He shook his head.

'You will be sharing it with the other team. It is a temporary measure though.'

Saying this his manager walked away.

He looked around listlessly. She was nowhere to be found. Maybe it is for the better, he consoled himself. The cubicle still had her nameplate. Soon his would replace hers.

He was lost in these thoughts when he heard her voice.

'Excuse me, I think you are in my seat.'