It was a sweater made for two.

Something I had written for Sticky Stories. The beginning line that was given was 'It was a sweater made for two.' Read on!

It was a sweater made for two. She held it close to her chest, as painful tears mercilessly trickled down her face. The big, empty baby bump never felt this heavy. With little stamina, she crossed out yet another date on the calender.

Today was the 'due date' her family had been eagerly waiting for.

The power of electricity.

Survived 10 hours and 15 minutes of power cut today. This gave me time to think, and embrace the power of electricity. I was almost in tears when I heard the fan roar and see the tube light pump in energy into my room again. 

Forget how humid and annoying it was, there is just so much more than we rely on electricity for, these days. First off, I work alternate Saturdays. So the other Saturdays are a boon beyond reason. 
Here's a gist of what my today looked like, and how sucky it was.

1) The first two hours were manageable, as long as the mother and grandmother were around for company. Paper, chai, hi and good mornings, etc took up time.

2) Phone Internet started hogging on battery, hence decided to keep it shut for a while.

3) With nothing else to do, binged on a packet of masala corn balls. Soon, time for lunch.

4) Read a whole Calvin&Hobbes book to just push lunch as much as possible.

5) Hands start itching to see what's happening with the world. Battery dies a little more.

6) By this time, I'm suddenly left home alone. Obviously, with nothing to do.

7) Eat lunch.

8) Try to take power nap, FAIL thanks to the humidity and sweat.

9) Maid enters. Try to keep myself occupied watching her work.

10) Get an idea for an advertisement. Start writing on paper, have absolutely no flow of thought (or the backspace option)

11) Phone is almost gone. Try desperate methods of saving it. Like, the ever helpful Mac!

12) Try to play brother's guitar. Even the dogs ran away.

13) Eat more corn balls, and have two more cups of chai. Because, bored.

14) Pray for electricity to return soon. Or at least some human company. (All dogs were too blissfully asleep to be ruthlessly woken up)

15) Power nap fail, yet again. Eyes are too tired to read anymore.

16) Start talking to myself, without any other choice. I sang a little too. 

17) Father returns home. OMG PARCEL FROM DOSA PLAZA

18) Ate American Chopsuey Dosa (yes), and waited impatiently.

BAAAAM! Electricity is back, so is all the happiness.

What has social media done to me? Where is all this stupid addiction going to lead? It's a scary thought. So incredibly difficult to digest the fact that at one point of time, everybody lived without electricity. A worse thought? The fact that so many people live today, this minute, without any access to electricity. 

Though I did make it through 10 hours successfully, I disappointed myself. A lot.

Until next.

Dream big. Dream with your eyes open.

I dream consciously. I dream because I love to. Dream during the day. Stop your work for a while, stare into empty space and just dream. Never give up dreaming. Be passionate about being able to dream. So many people don't make time to dream.

By dreaming, I don't mean the dreams that attack you while you're fast asleep. Those are driven by the day's happenings and highly influenced by reality. You can't even recall most of them. We have enough of shit to deal with in reality, why bother adding it to dreams? Dreams are meant to be unique, fantasy based. Take a break from whatever you are doing, and let your thoughts just wander.

There's a healthy difference between day dreaming and night dreaming. You have no control over night dreaming. Which is also why nightmares come into existence and ruin a good night's sleep.  Like I also said, it is always based on what happened during the course of the day. So, why not change the course of the day?

Dream about anything under and above the sun. Dream about puppies flying. Dream about that wedding you've always wanted; detail out every single thing you want. Dream of the tiny, pretty house you can maintain all by yourself. Dream  of watching baby pandas fall off a slide. Dream of your life as a celebrity; give yourself importance. Dream about how you managed to save the world. Dream about that perfect guy/girl you want to date. Dream about having your crush fall for you, head over heels. Dream of a big bunglow that you know you can't afford. Dream of a life where money isn't everything. Dream of shopping. Dream of sun bathing in a beach wearing a bikini and not feel shy about.

Dream about anything, everything.

Of course, be positive. A smile will draw itself on your face without you knowing it.

Spruce up scenarios, make happy bubbles, and live in the them. Enjoy the liberty of shaping the dream and deciding its course. Enjoy the fact that you are the master of your mind. Enjoy how much you can embrace life in a parallel universe. Enjoy sculpting every detail with a dash of perfection in accordance to what you really want.

Dream consciously during the day. The sub conscious night dreams will fall quietly into place.

Haffun!

I see chocolate. Nothing happens.

The joy of an anti-sweet tooth. I don't even know why it is such a big deal. It isn't. But the sweet tooth walas have made it this way for the minority.

"Hey, chocolate?"

"No thanks, not too fond of it."

"WHAT? How do you survive?"

Sorry for bursting your chocolate filled bubble, but like without chocolate is highly possible. And extremely comfortable. I can't survive beyond one square of a dairy milk bar, so forget the rest. I've seen for real when people melt, go crazy, tear their hair, make orgasmic noises at the very look at that brown, gooey thing. Doesn't stop with just chocolates, let's not even get into the world of cakes and cupcakes. Every third picture of my newsfeed has a cupcake. Ok, I admit, I love love love looking at those pictures. But it does not make me want to eat it. Nope, not even a bite.

So, while you sweet tooth walas hog on chocolates and cupcakes, I shall proudly announce to the world how my love for chips is multiplying in enormous amounts, with every new packet. If you really know me well, and decide to gift me something, you should know what not to give me.

Until next!

Just another love story.

They were walking down the railway station. It slowly started dawning upon her that he was leaving. The past week had been blissful. She didn't know what this meant. Happiness overflowing, fast paced heartbeats, blushing cheeks, restless sleep and high energy. It passed like a dream. Suddenly, everything else didn't matter. Didn't matter at all.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep, sexy voice.

"Give me the bag!"
"No. I'll carry it for you."
"No, give it to me!"
"But I want to carry it!"
"If you love me, then give it to me."
"I do.. I do love you."

Did she just say that? Her heartbeat was the fastest she'd ever felt in 16 years. They carried the bag together, each holding one strap. The bag took responsibility of the growing bond between them. The bag called out to their love and gave them an answer. The bag was stitched for them.

The next few minutes passed in complete oblivion. The electricity between them left her head spinning. She wanted to hold his hand, and have a conversation with his eyes. Their eyes were fixed on each other. The train window between them didn't pose a problem. The train moved.
She didn't say goodbye. Neither did he. No words were spoken. The train just moved.  It was only after he was out of sight that she began to realize. She was blindly in love.

Months flew by. They loved each other. Each day had reason to wake up with a smile. Each song had meaning. Each smile had thought of him behind it. Each minute was precious.

Years flew by. The electricity was intact. The love had grown multifold. The passion was enviable. They had grown fondly comfortable and happily familiar. She fell deeper in love. Even if he didn't have time to talk to her. Even if his phone was engaged for hours. Even if he snapped at her. She was too much in love.

It had fallen apart for him. She was too naive to realize that. She lived in a world of her own. The guilt was killing him. He had to break it. His new found love. That he loved her.

And he did. It shattered her to bits.

So more years passed. She had matured into a beautiful and confident person. He, on the other hand, heart broken, troubled and guilty.

They met at a friend's wedding. She was lugging her bags into the hall. He saw her with sorrowful, guilt studded eyes. He went up to her.

"Give me the bag!"

She gave him the bag and walked away, breezily. 

A lesson. The hard way.

A mere 7th standard kid, when completing notes on time and submitting was the biggest task in life. Quality didn't matter as long as I was punctual, until the day I had to read such comments at the back of my notes. My heart started thumping and I went red in embarrassment. 

I had to read it more than twice for the pure harshness in it to sink in. 

History lectures were something that didn't interest me in any way, that day was just a bit more than that. Even her face had the features of a strict teacher, and it suddenly became the only thing I could notice. I was restless all day, and obviously didn't muster the courage to tell any of my friends about it. The lecture started peacefully, but every minute ticked in my head. Unfortunately for me, the day wasn't written in my favour  She announced, “I want each one of you read out the comments I've written in your last lesson’s notes.” This was DOOM for me. I wanted to crawl up in a corner and cry. 

It felt so obvious, it was ‘attack-Shasvathi-day’. When it finally boiled down to my turn, I think I couldn't find my voice, twice. With the entire class watching me, I repeated these words with trembling hands. 

"To have corrected such a miserable handwriting, I need it!"

End result, classmates broke out into a bout of laughter. Except for my best friend (thank God for that). I stormed back home, hid my face in a pillow and cried. And as always, the mother came to my rescue and taught me how to take it as a lesson and not a ‘failure’. It took me a while to look at it rationally. A year down the line, I got an overall ‘improvement in handwriting’ in my progress report. That was the beginning. Its been 9 years now, and these words still ring in my head as clearly as then. Not just for handwriting, but for ANYTHING I do. 

Thank you, Ma’am.

I miss you, mom.

Hi Mommy,

I'm writing to let you know I'm safe. I'm safe, but I'm in pain. I want to snuggle up close to you and cry. You kept telling me not to run around, skip, hop and jump near the dangerous highway close to home. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I should have.

Here's what happened, mom.

Sis and I were fun-fighting over these delicious parathas some humans threw to us outside that hotel. We were laughing, eating and savouring the taste, ripping it apart one piece at a time. Once our tummies were full, we went rolling on the grass nearby, enjoying the smell of fresh rains and wet mud. Suddenly, in all her playful spirit, sis sprinted towards the road. Believe me mom, I ran behind her as fast as I could. A gigantic truck hit poor little sis and sped across in a split second. Now I understand why highways and a few humans are dangerous. Sis was thrown across the road and that is etched in my mind. I will always be haunted by that nightmarish moment. By the time I reached her, it was too late. All I could see was blood and gore. I ran around her in circles, squealing for help. Not a soul stopped. Where were you then, mom?

I saw sis breathe her last.

While I was still crying out desperately for help, I forgot I had to look left and right, then left and right again, while crossing the road. In just a few sparkly seconds, I thought I was flying and then fell with a thud on the road. Except, what I thought was really true.

I don't know what had happened, but I saw a big black car zoom ahead. Everything was a blur after this. But I do have vague recollections of the evening's happenings. I saw a hairy man stick his head out of the car, laugh loudly and throw a glass bottle out of the window which smashed against a tree. I don't know what it was. Or why he threw it.

All I could concentrate on was the pain. I was wincing in pain. Excruciating pain I can't even begin to explain.  Pain Pain Pain. I was lying helpless in the middle of the road and I knew this was my last escape before another life-threatening vehicle passed. I tried moving, I couldn't. I didn't even know if my tiny legs were part of my body any more. I tried dragging myself but heard a dreadful crack in my ribs. That pain was so fierce I started seeing black and silver spots. At a slight side glance, I could see baby sis in a pool of blood. I cringed and gave up the fight. I couldn't even cry for help, for more vehicles passed by without giving me or sis a second glance. Where were you when I needed you the most, mom? WHERE were you?

I was giving in to the unbearable pain, and the world was becoming darker by the second. I saw a white car pass by. It's a special car. You want to know why? Because the car reversed and stopped near me. Yes mommy, I got help! This man hopped out, looked left and right only once and swiftly walked towards me.  He took a minute to check if I was going to bite him. Haha, mom, I love humans. Why would I bite him? Anyway, he instantly picked me up and put me inside that giant car. Exactly like the ones we ran behind at night!

It was cold inside the car and there were more humans who were staring at me. I think there was a lot of blood on me and I looked scarily ugly. I know you won't agree with that. They tried to make me comfortable with soft blankets. The pain was racking and I was terrified. I didn't want to die. No, I didn't! 

I passed out. 

I was so sure I was dead. But I drowsily woke to the smell of medicine and a sharp poke in my left hand. I lay tired, hurt and sapped on a cold steel table. After what seemed like ages, I was carried back to the car and driven away to a house where dogs, cats, rabbits and guinea pigs live too! A lovely lady cooks delicious food for me everyday. 

10 days have passed, the pain has slowly started decreasing and I'm getting better. I visit the doc regularly and eat medicines that don't taste nice. I occasionally play with the dogs here and love scaring the cats. But I want to come back home. I don't know the route. Will I ever see you again?

I want to see you, mom. And I miss darling sis. 

Yours Woofily,
Sonny. 

P.S.: Incidents like these happen everywhere and we're insensitive. Sometimes, right in front of your eyes. Sometimes, your own vehicle may hit a dog/pup/cat/kitten/cow/monkey/donkey/elephant, anything. Don't drive away. Don't hate the dog on the road when you love the one at home. Help them. Be kind. Call for help. 

Would you drive over your dead loved one lying on the road? If you see a hit-and-run case on the road and the animal is dead, pick up the animal and place it on the side of the road. Clear the road. Respect the victim's dignity.  

It's the least you can do.