Short Story #13: Another Instagram love story

"Hey, listen, Sarah just broke up with her girlfriend and she wouldn't stop crying, she is going to be staying with me for the night, let me spend some time with her now. Also, isn't it too late for you there? I will talk to you tomorrow, okay?", she said, as he stared at her face on the video call.

'She is so beautiful', Aarush thought, smiling at her face on the phone screen.

It was one of the very few times they had connected on video calls in the last one year that they have been close friends.

"Oh, I'm sorry, yes, please take care of her, and hey you did tell me that you wanted to talk to me about something?", he asked.

"Oh, yeah, hmm, may be tomorrow?"

"Sure, good night, Shruti", he said, as they hung up.

He woke up to the noise of his neighbour's lawn mower. 

"Aargh", he moaned as he reached out to his mobile phone to check the time.

"9.32! Damn, I am late!", he exclaimed in whisper.

The big day was here. He had been planning this day for over two months now.

He quickly scrolled through the notifications on his mobile as he checked for messages from her.

Nope, none. Ofcourse, it was only 5am for her, he thought.

"Hey, everything ok?", he messaged her.

He spent the day cleaning his apartment, carefully wrapping the gifts, watched a few episodes of Sienfield as he finished packing his bags and got ready to leave for his flight.

The idea of surprising Shruti in Germany scared him as much as it excited him.

On his way to the airport, he was scrolling through instagram messages and reading some old conversations he had with Shruti.

He was so much in love with her, and of course she had no idea.

Ping.

"Hey Aarush. It has been a long day, but everything is okay. Whats up with you?", her message read.

"Nothing much", he replied, smiling but keeping it casual as he quickly moved through the queue at the arline counter to check-in.

"..but just dreaming about the future may be :)", he typed.

He put on his earphones and scrolled through Spotify for a song to suit his mood, as he waited to board the flight.

Aarush realized he wasn't even hungry, he just had butterflies in his stomach.

He has never done something like this before.

He almost felt like a hero from steretypical indian romantic movies.

"How far in the future? ;)", she replied.

Aarush sat in his seat, and tucked his little backpack under the seat. He was just a few hours (twelve to be precise) away from her and he had many little anxiety pangs as he thought about this.

"I don't know, but may be just far enough to see me happy with someone", he replied, immediately feeling flushed and stupid.

'What if she didn't have feelings for me? What if she was not ready to take this friendship any farther? What if she feels I have made this awkward for us to be good friends?", he thought, as his heartbeat grew louder.

A message from her.

"Wow, that would be someone lucky for sure", she said.

Aarush clutched his heart as he typed this with almost-freezing fingers "Haha, don't live in la-la land. You don't know me offline. I am a very difficult person, you haven't even met me ever".

"Of course, I haven't met you. But fortunately we have enough mutual friends for me to know you are not a robot or a fake account, LOL" 

"You would never know, I could still be a smart bot who is a CAPTCHA expert may be", he said.

"Haha, also the fact that I have been talking to you every single day for a year now, and you have been so kind to me, you have always been there to comfort me whenever I felt vulnerable and needed someone", she said.

She was still typing something.

Typing...

Nothing.

Typing...

He stared at the chat screen for the next two minutes until the flight took off and the mobile network wasn't available anymore.

He sighed, put his mobile phone inside his bag and rested his head backwards, putting his hand on his chest and heaving a huge sighing breath as he watched the well lit Delhi city from thousands of miles above. 

'When I wake up, I would be in the other side of the world, and the closest I have ever been to Shruti', he thought.

As soon as he got to the conveyor belt at the Berlin airport to pick up his rucksack, he connected to the WiFi to check Shruti's msgs, it had indeed been a long wait.

A hundred notifications from all the social media apps and his mobile almost hung up on vibrating incessantly.

As he sat in the taxi, he opened her message.

"Hey. There is something in my head that I need to tell you, it would be unfair if I didn't let you know this is running in my head. As much as I love the relationship we share, in the world inside my head, it's different. A parallel world, may be. It's a happier place. A world where we wake up next to each other every morning, spend the day smiling and thinking about the kisses, cook together and gossip like high school girls, work out together as our dogs watch us, travel places and while I meet new people in the beaches and make friends, I see you lying down by the sea reading a book and listening to music from the 80's, and we experience life together as we grow old as best friends. 

This seems like a perfect picture to me and I don't want to ruin this picture in my head with reality. I know I am jeopardizing our friendship and making things awkward, but I think if I don't tell this to you now, I may never. But I think I am in love with you"

WOW, he thought. His heart now pounded much harder. And louder. 

'Well, I thought I was going to surpirse her, but this just put me on the sky', he thought as he smiled so wide with a tear in his eye.

He read and re-read the message a few times, until he believed what he thought was unbelievable.

There were also a few messages from her after that.

"Aarush, I am sorry if this kinda ruined things for us"

"Aarush, is everything okay? Your number has been unreachable since evening"

He clutched his mobile harder as he typed, "Thank you for sharing this with me. I think the picture in your thoughts is very sweet. Beyond words. I know that so far we have lived in a real world, away from this parallel world of yours. But what if both the worlds could meet?"

He read this message about ten times to make sure he phrased every word right.

Two long minutes.

"Omg, Aarush! Are you serious? I mean, am I getting this right? Am I misunderstanding this!! :) :)".

He read the message as he got out of the taxi and walked to her door.

Aarush rang the door bell and waited for the longest 20 seconds in his life ever.

She opened the door.

"Oh my God! AARUSH!! How????" She flung her arms around him and hugged and cried in joy.

"I don't know what to say", she sobbed between smiles, "Did you come all the way here for me?"

He pat her head lightly as she cling to his chests still hugging him.

"Ofcourse. It has been a few months since I realized you are the one"

"Okay, this is another instagram love story, then. Well, I'm not complaining", she giggled, wiping the tears that fell on her cheek.

They stood there hugging, like time had frozen.

Short Story #12: Unconditional

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to school?”, I asked her, slowly pushing the hair off her face as she lay on me, hugging like a little ‘Koala’ or that’s what I called her every time she did this.

‘Nooo, ma-ma’, she said, her lip curling into a pout and eyes welling with tears.

I kissed her forehead softly as I got up, lifting her slowly and dancing around singing ‘kuchi kuchi raakamma’ in baby voice as Tara chuckled.  

‘It’s been 3 years and she is still entertained by that song”, Sid laughed, busy making some orange juice for breakfast.

I looked at her smiling and admired how beautiful her tiny features were (of course she didn’t look anything like me), as I wiped the little drop of tear on Tara’s cheek and told her ‘Tara is such a big girl now, daddy and I are coming with you to school today and let’s do a picnic lunch after school, okay? Yay, picnic lunch at the park, woo-hoo!'. She smiled and hugged me again, but this idea did cheer her up a bit.

Tara is now five years old and it has been three years since she came into our life, and not a day has passed without all these cuddles in the morning.

Two soft meows. “Ah, look, Fluffy is up”, I said.

Tara ran across the room to lift the cat, tripping over her toy and breaking it accidentally. I picked her up from the floor even before she started to cry, “You are okay, you are okay, do you want feed some treats to Fluffy while I get ready?”, I asked Tara handing over some treat sticks for our tom cat.

Forty minutes later, we arrive at Tara’s school, listening to rhymes and singing along throughout the 15-minute car journey while we braved the Bangalore traffic.

“Pa-pa, pa-pa”, Tara said, confusedly looking around as we walked towards her class. “Papa is parking the car, he will be here now in a minute, Tara kutti”.

“Oh, look Tara, here’s Jo ma’am”, pointing out to her favourite teacher. “You are a sweet little girl, be a good girl in school today, and we will pick you up soon for picnic, okay?”, kissing her cheeks, and I saw her walk holding Ms.Jo’s hand, as she animatedly pointed towards her clothes and shoes and talked to her with whatever little words she knew.

I was looking at her so proudly I almost didn’t see Sid coming, until he tapped my shoulders and said ‘Let’s go meet the Principal”.

Mrs.Hiremath welcomed us with a broad smile.

‘We are glad that Tara is doing great in school, but we also wanted to know if there’s anything more could do to help her feel more comfortable?”, she said.

“I really appreciate the school and Ms.Jo especially for all the efforts to help out Tara”, I said, humbled genuinely. “We are taking it one step at a time, teaching her little things every day and making learning fun for her at home, we take her out to the park to play which could be harder for her here in school with other kids, we spend a little more time every evening teaching her to write and draw and express herself better with words or art’, I paused.

“We are grateful that Tara is having extra help in school to cope up”, Sid started explaining, “..umm, may be she can have little breaks in the schedule, or when she needs time taking more than one instruction in class, but I’m sure Ms.Jo is already doing all that she can, Tara seems to like school better now, and you can let us know if there’s anything more that we can do as well, but thankfully with great care I guess we are managing the her difficulties quite well”.

Tara was diagnosed with dyspraxia when she was 2.5 years old. She reached her milestones later than she should, she did have minor difficulties with writing, drawing, eating on her own, with movements, especially playing, she did bump into things or trip over and fall a little more, understood instructions slower and found normal activities of her age a little more challenging. But it did not hinder her happy and kind spirit, and she was as chirpy as a little duck.

“Great, then. We will definitely keep you updated on her progress”, Mrs.Hiremath concluded, as her assistant Chetan walked in with tea for us all. After some general conversations over tea, we walked out of the school, holding hands, a little lost in thoughts.

“Do you think Tara will have the perfect life when she grows up?”, Sid asked.

“Of course, Sid. I don’t think we should worry about it, she is going to be an amazing teenager and adult. We might need to be a little more patient with her as she grows up, I’m sure we will be. If she makes mistakes, we are here to help her, that’s what parents are for right? She might have a little difficulties with day to day life, but who doesn’t?”, I said, reassuringly.

Later that afternoon, Sid and I sat under the tree eating some tamarind rice and appalam (Sid’s fav menu for picnic lunches), as we watched Tara play with a dog in the park. She was so fond of dogs, cats, and birds and she was definitely a baby version of me with animals, I proudly thought.

“Don’t you think we learn so much from Tara every day? I mean she teaches us a lot of simple things’, Sid said.

‘Hmm-hmm. She is a constant reminder to live in the present, to be happy and kind all the time and to look beyond our limitations. And also a reminder to be calm when you stress, to live one day at a time’, I added.

Tara ran to us, took her dog soft toy from the basket and put it close to my face and said ‘Ma-ma, kissie’ and then took it to Sid, ‘Pa-pa, kissie the puppy’ and then ran back to the dog and the woman to show them her dog toy.

“What a little wonder she is, she always has so much love to shower”, Sid said, proudly. “Isn’t she the best thing that happened to us?!”, he put his arms around my shoulders and looked at my eyes, smiling.

“Every time I look back in time, I am so happy and grateful we chose to bring her into our lives. I still remember the little shy girl who refused to look at anyone, and when people called her ‘different’ and when our family and friends questioned our choice of adopting her, we knew she was very special and that she needed us, more than how much we needed a child. And look at her today, she has changed our world. And filled it with unconditional love”, I said.

Tara ran to us smiling for a group hug, or ‘goop huggie’ like she said.

“Unconditional indeed, precious”, Sid said, hugging us both.

Short Story #11: The forgotten man

It was just getting harder and harder to ride. He wanted some rest.

He stopped to stand under a tree, the only tree in that street, for some shade. He bent down to check the tyres. Flat.

“Punctured, again! That’s the second time this week”, he mumbled.

He took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the beads of sweat running down his face. He took out his glasses, wiped his forehead and looked up at the sky. ‘No clouds, the temperature is not coming down anytime soon”, he thought, and reluctantly walked his cycle at 41 degree celsius.

He walked for about 2 kilometres before he found a small cycle repair shop by the slum. He asked the tyre to be changed and went aside to wash his face with some water.  

 ‘Aaah”, he exclaimed, as he sat down, on the cemented steps of the nearby shop, holding his knees.

“Getting old, uncle?’, asked boy, with a smile, as he worked on the flat tyre.

‘Ha, yes. I am getting old. Things aren’t like before, are they?’, he said, with a half-smile, as he took out a small transistor radio and set it up next to him, playing All India Radio channel.

He opened his lunch box. Three rotis and bhindi sabzi.  His favourite bhindi.

‘Rim jhim gire sawan..’ his little radio played.‘Sulag sulag jaaa..ye mann’, the old man sang along. He slowly munched on his rotis, humming the song every now and then, when a dog approached him, wagging its tail.

“Oh, boy, eat this’, he said to the dog, placing a few pieces of his roti next to him on the steps. The dog ate them up hurriedly and looked at the man, still wagging its tail. He patted on the dog’s head and packed his empty lunch box and small radio back in his cloth bag.

“Your cycle is as good as new now, uncle’, the boy happily exclaimed, dusting his clothes with his greasy hands. “That will be ten rupees, uncle”

“Oh, thank you.. Ten? Only ten? Are you sure?”, taking out a few notes of ten rupees and some coins from his shirt pocket.

“Yes, ten rupees only..but come here to my shop the next time your cycle tyre is burst, deal?’, the boy smiled and winked, as the old man handed over a ten-rupee note to him.

“I will get going then”, the old man waved and cycled off.

Over the next few hours, he visited about thirty locked houses and many high-rise apartments where he deposited the letters at the security desks.

After a long exhausting day, he cycled back towards home. The sun was setting and he stopped at the stationery shop close to his home.

“Uncle, looks like you are a little late today. So, what are you getting for your grandchildren today?, the shopkeeper asked, packing a few notebooks for a small boy standing against the counter.

“Umm, may be a sketch-pen set”, replied the old man, smiling. The shopkeeper showed him a few sets of colour pens and the old man beamed as he selected one.

The old man, on reaching home, parked his cycle outside and carefully locked it with a chain and a mini-lock.

When he entered home, his 8-year old grandson and 7-year old granddaughter ran towards him with arms open. ‘Dada..’, they screamed excitedly as he hugged them.

He showered and then sat with them for an early dinner. As his daughter-in-law served them food, he talked to the children about their school and friends. He listened to them talk, keenly, as he relished the dal chawal.

‘Dada, do you have friends too?’, asked his granddaughter.

‘Hmm. I had many friends. Many many years back, when I used to go around the city delivering letters, I had so many friends who were like family. They used to wait for me to bring them news. When it was good news, they gave me sweets to eat. They always offered me water or buttermilk during summer. They used to gift me for diwali. For those who couldn’t read, I sat at their house reading them their letters. I knew so many of them, I knew them all well’, he paused.

‘But now, everyone is busy. Times have changed. I deliver only a very few letters, which nobody is anyway waiting to read, ha ha’, he gave a nostalgic sigh, ‘but wait, dear, I do have friends.. a small boy who makes my cycle shine bright, the man at the shop where I get you gifts, see, I have friends?, he smiled.

As he went to bed that night, he remembered many fond memories from a few decades ago. He felt lucky to have such great memories associated with his job. The job, he knew he loved no matter what. 

Short Story #10: Magic

The whistles of the wind grew louder as I went down the stairs to platform number 8. Despite the unusual darkness, I could see the scarce trees swinging eerily. I wondered if the cyclone had hit the city already. I hoped I would reach home before it was too late. It was getting colder and the railway station looked lonelier that night, surprisingly. As I walked down the platform, I saw a big-framed man stare at me. I froze for a few seconds, frightened. He was almost naked and had long unkempt hair in dreadlocks. I hurried past him with long steps and stopped near an empty bench. I noticed an old lady stare at me. She was chewing something as she stood there with a bag and her eyes bore deep into mine. I could hear my heart thump faster and a bead of sweat appeared on my forehead. I could see a broad beam of light and a loud horn. The train was arriving! As I stepped in the front awaiting to board the train, the train sped past me in lightning speed without stopping and the horn was blaring loud. The horn kept growing unbearably louder and shriller and I closed my ears and shrieked.

WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE P DIDDY

GRAB MY GLASSES, I'M OUT THE DOOR; I'M GONNA HIT THIS CITY

She woke up with a jolt to shut the alarm off. 5.30. Everyone had turned their heads towards her. She had her eyes watering and she didn’t want anyone to see that. She bent down to casually wipe the corner of her eyes. Even before she realized how embarrassing it was, she straightened up and pretended to listen to her colleague presenting.

OH MY GOD! “I can’t believe I dozed off again. And the alarm? Oh, no. No wonder, the alarm didn’t go off in the morning! I set it for 5.30pm instead of 5.30am? Not again, Shiya!”, she thought. She was doodling a beard and she just realized she had turned it into what looked like a play-swing when she had dozed off. “Tch. What a waste of time meetings could be!”, she thought, as she continued to draw a bandholz beard on the notebook.

After what felt like months, the meeting ended and she dashed out of the hall. She rushed down two flights of stairs and there he was! “Nihal!”, she exclaimed. 

She was surprised to see him there. Well, there he was, with a bouquet of flowers and beaming like a blushing teenager in love. He opened his arms and walked towards Shiya, and bent down on one knee. He kissed the flowers and offered it to her, smiling through words ‘Will-you-marry-me-Shiya?” and singing “I do I do now..I do I do..All I am, all I'll be…Everything in this world…All that I'll ever need…Is in your eyes shining at me”.

Shiya laughed, slightly turning red and looking around to make sure her colleagues weren’t watching this. She took the flowers from his hand, rolled her eyes and said, ‘Yes! Only if we had not married each other a year ago”. Nihal got up on his legs and hugged Shiya and whispered, “Aw, that’s bad. Happy Anniversary month, sweetheart!”. 

Shiya hugged him back and said “I thank my stars every day for making me such a lucky wife”. She held his hands and walked out of the office, still smiling over his romantic surprise. Nihal was always full of surprises. Shiya felt overwhelmed by his gestures, ever since the day it all began.

She remembers the day so fondly. December 1, 2014. Shiya sat there at Marine Drive, Mumbai, staring at the sea. As she munched on some sukha bhel, she watched the tides hit the tripods and rush back and forth. The sun was setting and she was happy looking around at the kids skating, old couples holding hands and walking, couples romantically watching the sea and whispering into each other’s ears, men and women jogging with the earphones plugged on. She sat there silently pondering over all that had happened. A failed and abusive marriage of 7 months followed by an immediate miscarriage. It had all happened too quickly that she needed to take some time to accept everything. Being an optimist that she is, nothing could hamper her love for life or dampen her spirits. She looked forward to life as she always did.

She looked up at the sky, lost in thoughts. Suddenly she heard the screech of cars and turned around to see two cars brake just few inches away from a man and a dog.

“Zorro!”, screamed a teenage boy as he ran towards the greyish white dog, a husky mix breed, and pulled him by his leash. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you”, he told the man who saved Zorro and walked him away from the road, on to the pavement.

The man, now she noticed had a big beard and rough hair, limped back, panting slightly and sat down, examining his ankle. As he sat down, she read what was written on his T-shirt: Sometimes all you need is to talk to someone. I’m a shoulder-tap away. As he bent down to check on his ankle, she peered and read the name ‘Nihal K’ at the back of his T-shirt. Nihal K. The name struck a chord somewhere, but she was unable to remember anything more.

“Madam, kulfi?” She was startled by this sudden voice to her other side. “Nahi, Bhaiyya”, she said, as she politely refused to the guy selling kulfis. The beard man turned towards her and that’s when she saw his face clearly. Familiar and yet it wasn’t. She noticed him stare at her for a few seconds more. “Shiya?”, he asked.

Surprised, she smiled, ‘Yeah?’.

“Weren’t you my classmate back in school, 7^th grade?’, he asked.

‘Oh, Nihaaaaal! The fat guy from last ben-..sorry, I mean“, she bit her tongue apologetically. Of course, she remembered Nihal. She remembers the guy who had no surname, but initial K.

“Ha ha..yes, that’s pretty accurate..I was fat..ha.. that was 15 freaking years ago!”, he said, laughing.

“So, long time! How have you been? What are you up to, these days?”, she asked, curious about him.

“Hmm, I teach. I travel. Well, both, to be precise. I travel wherever I feel like, I teach kids there. Uh, not formal education at school. But I teach them, just anywhere”, he replied.

“Wow, that’s interesting!’, she exclaimed.

“Yes, it is.. ah, if you don’t mind, I have got to go now.. I’m meeting some kids at Girgaon now.. Let’s connect, please take down my number.. I’m just a mess-“, he said, as he stood up.

“A shoulder-tap away?”, she said in an amused tone.

“Ha ha.. That’s right. That started right here at Marine Drive. I met someone who was about to end his life by jumping from here. I talked to him for a few hours and the talk changed his mind. I am glad he was convinced that nothing was worth taking his life. I have been talking to random people here and in places where I travel around. I realized that sometimes, people just need someone to listen. When people put up sad posts on social media and seem depressed, I randomly message them like –Hey, how are you? I know we haven't connected in ages. I just saw your post. Take care. Sometimes all you may need is to talk to someone. Remember I am a msg away!..”, he said.

“Hmm, hmm?”, she said, with a keen look in her eyes.

“..And it works sometimes. Some people think I’m creepy or maybe that I’m hitting on them, ha ha..but yeah, some people choose to open up and yeah, it helps them”, he replied, casually putting his hands inside his pockets.

“That is so sweet, very sweet”, she said. She couldn’t help but notice his radiating smile. A very kind smile.

“Thank you, madame”, he said, bowing jovially, “I’m late. I will see you around sometime. Bye, Shiya”, and there he was, jogging away with a slight limp.

A beautiful companionship began that evening.

Love followed. Her life had turned unexpectedly magical.

On 20^th, January 2016, they got married in a small low-key wedding ceremony. The next one year, they had traveled to as many places in the country possible. Nostalgic nights of star gazing at Marine Drive, evenings spent hanging around with kids in the slums, movie marathons on weekends, too many surprises every now and then, their bonding grew stronger and Shiya never looked back to the times she has spent trying to become a stronger woman. She had never been happier in love. He was a kind angel. To her and to everyone.

She smiled as she thought how much she loved him, as they walked back home, hands held. She pulled him closer, leaned on his shoulders and whispered, “Thank you for gate-crashing into my life”. He laughed and puller her closer and said, "I'm glad I did".

Magic happens. To anyone. Anytime.

Short Story #9: Beyond genders

She hit the ‘delete’ button. She didn’t want to see his picture again.

‘Tch’. A long breath. ‘I can never tell him that I love him’

Sigh. ‘He would never accept me’, she whispered to herself as she tossed her mobile phone into her bag.

She had a hundred thoughts running on her mind as she kissed Ash on his forehead and nose, and left for work.

It has been 5 months since she moved to Mumbai. As she walked across the slums, she heard someone whistle followed by loud laughter of two men. She saw them staring at her bosom. She was angry, yet chose not to react. Adjusting her saree, she continued walking past them. This had become a routine now.

She crossed the lanes, when her phone rang. She dug through her bag to find the ringing mobile phone. “Hello”, she said.

“Mam, this is Veena,” said a hoarse voice on the other end, “Would like to speak to you”.

This was her second client that morning. As much as she loved her new counselling job, she preferred the calls were only during her working hours, unless it was an emergency.

“Is it an emergency? Can I call you back in about 15 minutes? Will that be fine, Veena?”, she asked crossing the road. As she crossed the busy narrow road, she noticed a tiny kitten stranded in the middle of the road. She didn’t wait for the response from the other end, but disconnected the call and just ran across the road, threw her hand up in the air to signal the speeding cab to stop and picked up the kitten. Barely two weeks old, definitely shaken and trembling from fear now, the white-ginger kitten couldn’t have looked more innocent, she thought. She dropped the kitten near the bushes a little away from the road, where she spotted the mamma-kitten, warning with her finger raised, ‘Be with mommy. No crossing the road, meow’. She smiled as she walked back, watching the mother kitten lick her little baby’s face.

She reached her work desk in her small office premises and as she greeted her four colleagues, she sat down to check her mobile for important messages and mails.

News update: Hit by Demonetisation, Delhi's Transgenders Write to PMO for Help.

She clicked the link open.

“Most of the transgender community in India have been never a part of mainstream society. They earn a living by either begging or dancing at weddings & birth ceremonies. The worse off take to prostitution. But the recent move to scrap Rs 500 and 1000 notes has all of them in dire straits”.

She scrolled down further.

“Everyone thinks we can go to the bank and solve our problems. But most of us do not have any savings. If we all earn Rs 4,000 one night, then we divide it among out guru, chelas and helpers while the rest goes for make-up, clothes, and food. We hardly have anything at the banks,” said Roshni, a 30-year-old transgender at a Laxmi Nagar shanty.

They complained of discrimination from the common public at the long queues near ATMs and banks. “Firstly, many of us don’t have bank acoounts because of the identity issue we face. Secondly, some of us who managed to get an account were often pushed aside by men and women at these lines. Centuries of prejudice cannot fade away so soon,” said Sakshi, a transgender who stays at Laxmi Nagar during the day and spends her night at Paharganj.

She hit ‘exit’ and dialled back to the client. “Veena?”, she asked, “I’m sorry I had to put the phone down then..hmm..please tell me about yourself?”.

After a few minutes of patient listening, she said, “I completely understand what you are going through. The journey to self-acceptance is a long one. I understand you have just recently had your sex-reassignment surgery. It might be difficult to start afresh without the support from family or friends, or sometimes it might just hurt when the society sees as you as an outcast and mocks at you. What you need to accept is that the ‘normal’ lens is different for each of us. Aren’t we all unique and different from each other? I have been there in your shoes and I know how it feels. I have lived a confused teenage trying to discover myself. I came out when I was 22 and fortunately by then I had completed my masters. I’m sure I wouldn’t have had access to good education if I had come out earlier. With the help of one of the support groups back in Tamilnadu, I was able to accept myself. I had a successful surgery and could see myself transform the way I always wanted me to be. The world is going to be unfair to us. From public spaces to health services, education to employment, or even basic utilities like accessing restrooms could be a struggle for us. But at this stage, you should embrace yourself confidently and love the transformation you have had from Veera to Veena. Finally you can be what you wanted to be when you were trapped in a body you couldn’t identify yourself with. So, are you a part of any support group there in Chennai?”

After a few ‘hmmm’ and ‘okay’, she said, “I understand. Ultimately, there is nothing to stop you from who you dream to be. There are so many famous transgender professionals in India, from lawyers to journalists, TV hosts and models, artists and authors, bank professional, police officer, school principal, times are changing in India. We have been included in the census, recognized as the third gender, we have been promised to have toilets built for us, it might take a while, but yes, the world isn’t that bad after all.”

A few ‘hmm-hmms’ and nods later, “Ha ha, yes, please assure them we are not sexual predators. I know it could be hard, but the world needs education. A lot of people do not know that ‘transsexual’ is independent of sexual orientation.  Do you think everyone understands bigender, pangender, genderfluid, agender, cross dressers? No, even we do not understand them completely. So if people are against us, if they discriminate us, it could be because they do not know about us or what we feel and they perceive we are abnormal. Remember, there are so many good people out there. I am blessed to work for an NGO that supports more like us, I have a great boss who has provided me accommodation and my life is almost what everyone calls ‘normal’. I’m sure you’ll catch up with the pace of life soon and love your life unconditionally.”

The conversation ended in a few more minutes. “Not at all. My pleasure, Veena. We are always here for you. Just a call away. Good luck and take care.”

She checked her messages. There was a message from one of her new clients, a 17-yr old.

“Mam, yesterday when Vanita and I were walking to a local shop, Vanita got ruffled up by some young men. I screamed so much for help, none came to our rescue. They started hurling abuses at us for being sex workers. I shouted at them asking if it was really our mistake. It is them who don’t let us study or employ us, nobody does anything to help us and we have no choice. I’m feeling threatened in this area, we did report this to our Guru. Can we call you?”

Sigh. “I hope Vanita is doing okay. I’ll call you in sometime. Don’t worry”, she replied.

It wasn’t an easy job talking to her clients all day, telling that they need to accept the unfair world. How can she calm them down telling her it is okay to be cursed?

She spent the afternoon writing down an article titled ‘My long battle ahead’ for a magazine. She also jotted down some points for her advocacy research paper on Rights for Transgender Communities.

She wrapped up her work early and rushed home to find Ash waiting at the window, wagging his tail and running around excitedly at the sight of his companion.

She opened the door and hugged him tight, as Ash licked all over her face.

There is so much love in this world, she thought J

Short story #8: The wait of pride and faith

She waited for the bus, anxiously looking at her watch every few seconds. It was 5.45 already.

As she peeped to see if the bus was there yet, she noticed the big-bellied man with briefcase stare at her again today. Uncomfortable, she adjusted her already-perfectly-pinned dupatta and thanked God as she saw the bus arriving towards the stop. She got in hurriedly and sat down for the 25-minute journey, hoping there wouldn’t be any traffic. She stared out at the orange sky, the sun shone like a bright glowing ball; both of them watched each other go home, as the wind blew on her tired face.

This was her life every evening. She rushed back excitedly from work to be with her 6-year old daughter, Aaryahi. Her little sunshine.

‘Aaryaaa!’, she happily screamed out, as she reached the first floor of her apartment, unlocking the door to their flat and removing the electricity bill sheet stuffed in the handle of the door.

‘Mommy!’, came the joyous little shrieking voice, as the girl came running out of the neighbour’s door, with arms open to hug her mother. Mahima hugged her daughter, pushed the small fringes from the girl’s forehead and kissed it, as she thanked Mrs.Deshpande, like she did every day. Of course, she has been kind enough to offer taking care of her daughter every evening after school until Mahima returns home. A fifty-something petite widow, she had no children of her own and pampered Aaryahi like her own granddaughter.

“Mahi.. The doodhwala had come to collect his monthly bill.. “, Mrs.Deshpande started to say..

“Oh aunty, I’m sorry.. I forgot to give you the money! How much was it?”, asked Mahima, anxiously. “600 rupees.. I have paid him... Not a hurry, give me later”, said Mrs.Deshpande with a sweet smile. Mahima thanked her again and gently closed the door.

“Mommy, do you know what happened today in social science class? Ruhi and Preeti were fighting over a notebook and then Braganza Ma’am….”, it went on. Mahima patiently listened to her daughter, as she changed her into her karate clothes and packed her little bag. She fed her a few pieces of apple and a glass of milk as she quickly gulped down a cup of tea.

“Let’s go, baby”, chimed Mahima, as she buckled the belt of the small red helmet on Aaryahi’s head, held the tiny hand of Aaryahi and rushed her down. They both quickly hopped on the scooter and left. As they scooted through the busy evening lanes of Andheri, Aaryahi was filling her mother in with stories from her school. “Mommy, let’s go to the beach, please mommy’, chirped Aaryahi.

“Not today, baby. I will take you there on Saturday, okay?”, promised Mahima, as two young boys whizzed past on an expensive sports bike, driving zig-zag, missing Mahima’s vehicle by inches. Aaryahi closed her eyes in fear. ‘Weren’t you scared, mommy?’, she asked innocently. “No Aarya.. we both are wearing helmets, we are safe .. but did you see that those two bhaiyyas were not wearing helmets? So they are the ones who should be scared of getting hurt while driving like this.. don’t worry,”, assured the mother whose heart was racing in the thought of what could have happened.

Mahima dropped Aaryahi in the Martial Arts Centre and left to the market. Aaryahi was the youngest student at the martial arts class. Her colleagues often asked her why she wanted to put her little daughter in the martial arts and football classes when she is too young for them. She smiled and said, ‘I am training her to be tough, to face the big bad world’. Isn’t that why she named her after Goddess Durga? Strong and fearless, she thought.

Mahima parked the scooter a little away from the crowded corner of the market and went purchasing vegetables and necessary groceries. She also bought a beautiful watercolour set and some craft materials for Aaryahi’s school project. She heard a faint sound of music and then she realized it was her phone ringing. By the time she searched through her bag to get to the mobile, it stopped ringing. 3 missed calls. From Major Dev. She dialled him back, the line didn’t get through.

Her heart was racing again. It has been a week since her husband Rohan had called. But it wasn’t abnormal, she thought, as she dismissed any possibility of scary thoughts. She has been assuring herself every single day of the last 8 years that ‘Rohan would be fine’. Being the wife of an army officer is never easy, she was always told. Yet she had gone against her family’s wishes to marry him. With the vows of the wedding, she had also vowed to be strong and support him the most.

She had stayed true to the vow. She had been strong, independent and understanding. She did everything possible to make life normal for Aaryahi.  There were days when she missed her dad, there were days when she didn’t remember him much. There were nights when Mahima shed some silent tears missing Rohan. As much as she was proud of her husband spending sleepless nights to guard the country, she also had her own fears and nightmares that she silently suffered through. There was always a cloud of uncertainty looming over their lives. She met him for a month every year and waited eagerly for his phone call every other day. It had been 10 months since he had come home. One more month to go before she could see him.

Why had Major Dev called? Was anything wrong? The tensions were severe in the Indo-Pak borders after the recent Uri attack and surgical strike. She remembered watching the news clips where the martyrs were brought home. A chill went down her spine. As she shook her head subconsciously, she hated herself for letting her mind travel through these thoughts. She looked at her watch again. 7.30. Time to pick Aaryahi.

She pushed the thoughts away temporarily and smiled as she picked Aaryahi up. “We learned a new kata today.. Heien Yondan”, she shrieked happily as she got on the scooter. “Wow..will you do it and show me after we reach home?, asked Mahima. “Sure mummy, KIAI”, Aaryahi playfully screamed and giggled and punched her fist up in the air.

The ten minute ride felt like ten years. Terribly worried, she was only hoping that her worst nightmare wouldn’t come true. Why did Major Dev call? She couldn’t stop wondering. As she parked her vehicle and went up to the first floor, Mrs.Deshpande was waiting by her apartment’s door, ‘Mahi, can you please come inside for a minute?’, she said. Growing more anxious by every passing second, Mahima rushed inside holding Aarya’s hands.

She thought she was paralyzed for a moment and her heart skipped a beat. She saw her husband standing there, arms open, tears welling up in his eyes. She couldn’t believe what she saw. The moment seemed frozen, those few seconds when Mahima and Rohan started into each other’s eyes, a lot of unuttered words exchanged silently. The silence was broken with a loud ‘DADDDYYYY!” as Aaryahi ran to hug her father. He bent down on his knee, held her close to him and kissed her cheeks. Mahima joined the hug and smiled through sobs of happiness and relief.

“Rohan..Rohan..I was..very worried..”, Mahima spoke through sobs. “I know.. I know, Mahi.. I wanted to see you both, I couldn’t be away.. So, here I am”, replied Rohan. There were no words to describe what they both felt.

The next few minutes were their happiest. Rohan lifted Aaryahi up in the air and played with her. Mahima couldn’t stop hugging him while still in tears. It was an evening filled with the biggest surprise for her. All those fears and anxious moments faded away as she held his hands now.

“I wouldn’t be able to take my yearly one-month off this time.. but you understand, right? It is an emergency situation. War could break out any time. So I thought I’ll visit home early for a week and get back”, he said.

“I understand, it is okay.. I’m glad you came”, she said, not telling him that she was scared for him, as both of them exchanged understanding glances.

The next seven days, their home was filled with so much laughter and happiness. They cherished every minute together until it was time for him to leave.

Mahima waved him goodbye, holding her daughter closer and blurredly watching him disappear around the corner of the road. She had hope and faith to grip her, until she saw him again.

This is just one story out of a million more stories. Dedicated to the families of 1.5 million active personnel in the Indian Armed Forces. The brave men who choose to dedicate their lives to safeguard the country, leaving behind a love-filled home and family members waiting to hear from them.

Salute ... Jai Hind!

Short Story #7: First rain.

The sky was turning grey, as she left the house, locking the door and rushing as she heard the lift close. She knew it was about to rain, yet she hoped to reach the mall before it poured in. She hopped on her scooter and looked up at the dark sky.

“15 minutes, please..” she said, looking up, pleadingly, as it started to drizzle.

12 minutes and 4 kilometres later, she stopped at the entrance of the mall to realize that she was completely wet. The rain was lashing out and she was wondering how she could sit through a movie with wet cold clothes.

“Isha.. Ishaa!!”, she heard someone yell her name.

She turned to see Akhil, standing right there at the entrance. She waved back as he ran towards her with a small smile, ‘Hey.. Riya just messaged to say she can’t make it, thanks to the rain… looks like it’s just the two of us. Are you sure you want to watch the movie now while you freeze through 123 minutes?”

“Haha.. but I want to watch ‘WARCRAFT’!”, she said, with an almost-innocent pout on her lips.

In less than a few nano-seconds, her face brightened up. “Akhil, why don’t we go to Worli sea face? It would be awesome in rain”, she beamed.

“ARE YOU CRAZY? Sea face?! Now?? Isha, it’s raining cats and dogs”, exclaimed Akhil, perplexed.

“I know, ha, that’s the point. First rain of this monsoon. Well, honestly, I haven’t done something as crazy before. Let’s go. We are already wet and what we have got to lose?! Such a romantic weather!”, said Isha, with child-like excitement in her eyes, “No, I promise I am not hitting on you,”, she giggled as she nudged him.

A few seconds later, Akhil hopped on her scooter and they were on their way to Worli. It was a 25-minute ride in heavy rain, while they spoke very less. They had been friends for six months now. Isha had confessed she had a crush on him, she loved his company and she just loved having him as a friend. Akhil too loved the company of this 23-year year old cheerful girl. She was a great friend, someone who would smother him with attention.

Isha carefully made her way through the wet roads to the seaface, parked the vehicle and they hurried across to the other side.

Isha gasped at the view of the sky from there. Dark angry clouds, lightning running vertically from the sky to the sea, the faint view of the sea link. The sea seemed to be unfolding into nowhere beyond, like the sea and sky weren’t any different. As the thunders clapped, the rain got more aggressive.

Isha loved what she was experiencing. As they walked in rain, she couldn’t stop exclaiming, ‘Oh my God, this is so beautiful.. I’m loving this..”, and Akhil couldn’t help not noticing the twinkle in her eyes as she said that repeatedly.

He was enjoying this moment. It was a perfect scene, like in the movies, he thought. He watched as a lot of people had joined them there. Many couples and families who wanted to celebrate the first rain of the year were gathered there. The city’s spirit was unbeatable.

When he was snapping out of some thoughts, he noticed Isha crying. He could see her red eyes swelling with tears.

‘Hey..are you alright? Why are you crying?’, he asked, holding her by her shoulders and looking into her eyes.

“I’m..I’m just overwhelmed.. I guess, this is too much to take in..’, she sobbed, “being a brontophobic (phobia of thunders/lightning), I have spent all my life fearing thunders.. I remember how I trembled every time a thunder clapped.. in the last few years, I have consciously overcome my fears.. I have come a long way.. and today, I am here, relishing every bit of this moment, not scared of the loud thunders anymore”.

Akhil just hugged her right there, not knowing what to say.

“I’m so proud of you, Isha. Yes, you have come a long way and I’m glad you are enjoying this right now”, he said, watching her sobs pause.

For the next ten minutes, they walked in silence, just watching the waves crash on the rocks. They sat there for a while, in one of the lonely benches.

Isha decided to break the silence. “I am loving this day..so overwhelming.. I’m so happy right now, I feel like singing aloud”.

Akhil laughed, but encouraged her to sing. Isha sang rain-songs from Bollywood and definitely gained a lot of attention from the passers-by. He loved seeing her happy. In fact, that’s what drew him to her, she was always happy and vibrant. Being an introvert himself, he appreciated someone who can be so lively.

“I wish I could make the time pause for a while now, I want this to last longer”, she said, tch-ing.

She looked into the eyes of Akhil and said, “Akhil, you know how much this means to me, right? Spending some quality time with you”, she smiled. He nodded, understandingly.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I just thought I’ll let you know, you mean so much to me. I like you, I care for you and I expect nothing but your company as a friend”, she smiled sweetly.

He drew a great deep breath before he began. “I know.. I understand. And Isha, I did mention to you that I have a crush on someone, weren’t you ever curious to know who it is?”, he asked.

“No, not at all”, smiled Isha, looking down at her shoes and picking something of out of the bench, subconsciously. “Akhil.. I never wanted to know much. I like you, and I have told you how I felt. Your relationship with anyone doesn’t matter to me. I like your company and I demand no more than that. In fact, when I don’t know who your crush is, I am happy thinking of the tiny possibility that it could be me. I don’t want to break that mysterious bubble of happiness”.

“Let’s go..I’m hungry, we should stop for some breakfast”, she chirped and started walking towards the scooter.

Akhil smiled and agreed. He followed her, still letting all her words sink in. He thought he shouldn’t wait any longer before he told her that it was her. He was excited.