That night....

I looked at my friend, Diya who was at the driver seat of her Mercedes, no sorry, her precious Merc. She was high and happy. We were returning from a small party including my close friends and me, thrown by Diya herself. Occasion- I had received my visa to US and I was to travel by the month end. I was the only one sober, others hooting and singing away. I was annoyed at Diya, for driving the car under the influence of alcohol and Diya was aware of it. She continued singing away which irritated me even more. I always stood by rules and Diya..well..never. She faced life as if there was no tomorrow. And me? Lived all my life following principles, rules and my mom’s dreams. Diya and I argued a lot on this. Diya..my chuddy buddy..since 5^th grade. Only daughter of Mr. Natesh P ,a popular businessman in Bangalore, a simple , billionaire! So Diya had no qualms in spending any amount on herself and..me. I would never accept anything from her, my ego obviously, which she of course didn’t care about.

I was looking at the speedometer. It was a constant 130-140. I was getting tensed. I offered to drive a million times. Diya hated babysitting and was stubborn to give me the wheel. I turned away and looked outside. I thought about my struggle at the office to get my visa and the drama I had staged. Finally I did  it and I was happy. I whistled to myself, treating myself to be easy for once. It was dark outside and raining hard. I again looked at Diya and the speedometer. Somehow both of them were getting better at annoying me now and then. Diya looked at me and said: ‘Nisha, chill man! Loosen up for once!’ Suddenly Susan, my colleague, who was also in the car at the back, screamed ‘LOOK OUT!!’ We both looked ahead and amidst the rain I saw a faint figure on the road. I watched in horror as Diya slammed the brakes and the car skidded. ‘THUD’ came the sound as we hit that figure. The car swirled around and hit the divider and stopped. I jumped out of the car and ran out to check what we had hit. Just as I feared, we had hit a person, a woman. She was lying on the road, in a pool of blood, her back facing me. I felt a throbbing pain at the back of my head and my left arm was numb. But I managed to kneel down and just when I was about to touch her, Diya tugged at my arm “Nisha, Come on! Let’s go from here before any one sees us. Susan and Akki (Akriti , another friend who was with us) are hurt and we need to get ourselves to a hospital. We don’t need a case now, Dad will kill me!Lets go and ..’ she went on and on as she led me away from the scene. I barely heard what she had said. I was looking at that body on the road, my heart plunging into guilt and my ‘always right ‘ subconscious nudging me to take that woman to the hospital. By then people had begun gathering and we got into the car and scooted.

I woke up two days later at the hospital, feeling wobbly and woozy. I saw my parents looking anxiously at me along with my brother, Nihal. Diya was at the other end of my bed , her arm in a sling and a band on her head, probably from a head wound at the accident. Suddenly my thoughts went back to that night. ‘Diya, that girl..that girl..’ I started. Diya stopped me half way ‘Nisha, come on , you are stressed and you need rest ,so stop speaking and go to sleep.’ I felt she was right since I had already began feeling sleepy and dozed off slowly as I heard my mom asking Diya , ‘what girl, which girl’ ..

I woke up again, this time to see Diya only. I looked around and saw no one else. ‘I sent them home. They were here for two straight days and they needed to take a break. I told I will look after you.’ ‘hmm’ I murmured and sat up. I was kind of not wanting to sit alone with Diya. I was angry with her. ‘Listen, Nisha. I have no idea about that girl and neither am I interested. No one else knows about her except you and me. Let’s keep it mum. If this news leaks, media will link this to Dad and I don’t want that. ’ ‘What? You are talking about your Dad ? What about that girl? What if she is dead? Do you realize that we would be freaking murderers??’ I was hysterical. ‘Shushh…’ Diya hissed. ‘You will let the whole world know?’ ‘That’s it’ I said. ‘Get out!’ Diya was taken aback. ‘What?’ she asked , her voice barely audible. ‘Ya you heard me. Please go. I really need some time alone.’ Having said that I turned and shut my eyes down. I was so mad. Mad at her. I loved her all right, because despite all the spite , she had some humanity. And now? It’s vanished. No, I needed some time to clear my head. I heard my room door open and shut.

I got discharged from the hospital a week after. As soon as I reached home, I changed to some cleaner clothes and left home, amidst all the cacophony at home for me not being well and all. I took my scooty and raced to that exact, same spot, yes! Where I last saw her body. I stood there. It was midafternoon and the roads were filled with trucks and cars speeding down, since it was a highway. I looked around and I couldn’t see anybody I could recognize from that night. I returned home.

For the next three days, I kept returning back to the same spot. I stood at the same spot, stared and then came back. On the fourth day, I heard someone stand by me when I was at the spot. I looked up. A very pretty girl was standing by me, her left open, a yellow kurti and off white leggings. She had worn long earrings and her face was so perfect as if she was fresh out of a painting. ‘Listen’ she said. ‘What are you doing here every day? What’s so interesting that you see here on this spot?’ I got scared. But I regained my composure and said ‘That’s none of your business’ I said haughtily. She smiled. ‘Do you know, there are people who are regulars here, including me, and it’s pretty weird seeing you come here, stare at this spot and then go away. Some people are also saying , an accident had happened at this very same spot and a girl was almost killed. Do you have anything to do with that?’ ‘Almost? She didn't die?’ I asked, but almost too quickly. She said ‘haa.. So you do have something to do with it. Did your car hit her? Did you see which car at least?’ and she bombarded me with questions. I ran to my scooty , started it while she continued stalking me with her questions while I sped away.

I reached home and went up to my room. Her questions were pummeling my brains. I noticed I was sweating. ‘Nisha..NISHA!’ I turned to see my mom. She was holding a plate of some toast and milk. She looked worried. ‘What happened beta, tell me. You look flustered.’  I didn’t say anything.

For the next two days, I didn’t go to that spot thinking of someone else coming to bother me around. I started going to office and gradually things were getting ok for me. My day of travel was nearing. I wasn’t still talking to Diya and neither she was interested in calling me. Twice I picked up my phone to whatsapp Diya, but then thought otherwise.

One day, while returning from office, I came down the same road where the accident had happened. I slowed down at the same spot and when I looked ahead I saw that girl again. It was as if she was expecting me. She came to me. ‘Hello. I scared you off last time. Let me not this time. Hi, I am Medha. What’s your name?’ I hesitated. Should I leave or stay? I switched off my engine, took a deep breath and said ‘Sorry for running off last time. My name is Nisha.’

We hit off good and from that day we met everyday for the next three days.  Infact, I liked her.She had a way of talking less and listening more. She was very patient unlike Diya and I was getting comfortable with her. One day we chatted about that night. I felt good talking to somebody about that night, to someone who would not judge me and just simply listen, I even talked about Diya shushing me. I really didn’t know why I was spilling all the beans to this person, one I didn’t know much, but somehow, I craved for some peace. Someone to tell me I didn't do anything wrong. I ranted and then kept quiet, waiting for Medha to tell something. ‘Did you visit her at the hospital?’ she asked. I shook my head. She said ‘Let’s go there.’ I denied. She insisted. I denied and left her.

Again the next day, she insisted. I denied again. The following day, I relented and together we went to the hospital. We checked for the accident victim at the reception and found she was at the ICU. We walked towards the ICU. I could see people seated outside the ICU. ‘ There she is. Anjali’s mom.’ Medha pointed out. I turned and asked. ‘Who is Anjali? Is that her name? And how do you know her mother?’ Medha said ‘Her pic was all over the paper!’ ‘Hmm, possible’ I said. I walked towards the mother and introduced myself as Anjali’s friend. Her mother gathered herself up. I looked at her sad, disheveled face probably from days of crying. She folder her hands to a Namaste and fresh tears rolled out.  ‘Since 15 days I am waiting for my daughter to wake up and call me.’  Apparently she was still in comma. Behind Anjali’s mother, I saw another pretty face of a nine year old. She was Aarti, Anjali’s little sister as introduced by her mother. I looked at the little one and smiled. I beckoned her to come and gave her a toffee I had with me. She gave me a small smile and took the toffee. Anjali’s father was out collecting money for his daughter’s operation, which was now a daunting task her entire family was facing. Anjali was unemployed and didn’t have a medical insurance. I was so over whelmed, that I started crying and hugging Anjali’s mom. Medha was standing there all this time, letting me do all the talking. After sometime, I turned around to go and I found Medha missing.Shit! I didn't have her number!

I got out of the hospital, took my scooty and drove straight home. I couldn't get Anjali’s mom’s face out of my mind. I had to do something. After all I was responsible for this. I made up mind, to go to Diya’s house, not to see Diya, but her father.

Natesh uncle, Diya’s father was a reputed businessman. He was very temperamental and was known to be outspoken. Diya was outright scared of him, what with the military regime they follow at home. I rang the doorbell. The door was open by one of the 100 maids he had at his home. They recognized me quickly and informed Diya, who came sprinting down the stairs. ‘Hiya bestyy…I knew you would come looking for me..’ she said coming down. I avoided her and continued towards her Dad’s study room. It was a Sunday, and I knew her Dad would be at his study doing something or the other. Diya stopped me , but I just shoved her aside and continued. Suddenly I was pulled back by my hair by Diya and punched. I was furious and punched her back.’ You can’t go in there.’ She screamed. ‘I need to do this’ I insisted, trying to save myself from her powerful blows. The cat fight continued until uncle himself came out and took us both into his study room. ‘Now tell me , what’s going on with you two. You two are obviously not getting along well.’ I looked at Diya. ‘She wouldn't budge from there until I ask her to. You go ahead and tell me.’

I blurted out to uncle everything. He listened and remained silent. He looked at us both. ‘Thank you Nisha, for bringing this up to me. Now go home and don’t tell anyone else about this. I will see what can be done from my side.’ Rest assured, I went back home, bruised, by my best friend. I smiled, but I felt a lot lighter.

I went to the hospital the next day to see Anjali’s parents. They looked better and happier. I learnt from them that someone had come in and sponsored all of Anjali’s medical expenses. I was very happy. I told them about my travel to USA and sought their blessings. I went back to the spot to find Medha and tell her the news. But she was nowhere to be found. I went to the bus stop to ask about her but they said they knew no one like her. I was puzzled. Maybe she didn’t come here today.

I came back home. For the next couple of days I finished some of the pending work at office and closed my bank accounts here. I called up my relatives and told them of my departure. I still didn't call Diya. I wanted her to call me. Man , she had punched me hard that day. I can’t keep bearing her stubbornness to this extent. Why can’t she call me? I also wanted to meet Medha to thank her for taking me to the hospital and making things easier for me. But somehow she disappeared.

Wednesday morning, D-Day. All my stuff were packed. I loaded my bags and trunks into my Dad’s car. Nihal was my driver today. Just as I was about to get into the car I heard an ‘OYE!’ I looked up. Diya.

‘You would leave without calling me, you sucked up, bitch!’ she yelled. I smiled. My besty jumped towards me , hugged and cried. I knew she was crying out all the guilt and frustration that she had all this time, except for the fact I wasn't there to babysit her this time. I hugged her tight and gave a peck on her wet cheek. ‘I will call you every day from the US yaar. Chill man! Loosen up!’ and we both laughed . My mom closed the main door. I noticed the morning paper lying outside the door. I picked them up and was just about to put them through the window when I noticed a picture.

 Of Medha’s.

I opened the paper and read what was written above her photo.

‘ANJALI’S LIFE SAVED BY UNKNOWN BENEFACTOR. ANJALI UP AFTER THREE WEEK COMA.’

‘What??’ I shouted. ‘Diya, get into the car. Nihal, go to Fortis now.’ ‘Why? What’s happening Nisha?’ Asked Diya and Mom.

We raced to Fortis, thanks to my brother’s reckless driving and I ran to the ICU. Anjali’s mother was coming out of the ICU and stopped after seeing me. ‘Beta, you were supposed to travel today na?’ she asked. ‘Aunty, Can I see Anjali please?’ I pleaded. ‘Beta, only one visitor is allowed to visit the patient during the visiting hours and that's done. I don’t think they would allow anymore.’ I ran to the duty nurse standing by the ICU door side and begged her to send me inside. She didn't allow. Hearing the commotion, the duty Doctor came out. We tried to reason out with him. He looked at me and Diya. He took a long pause before he said ‘Listen lady, only one of you can see her through a glass just outside her bed. That’s all’ I accepted that and went inside.

Inside, I could hear the beeps of the machines at the bedsides in the ICU chamber and the same, strange hospital odor. I was escorted by the Doctor himself. We stopped by the glass near Anjali’s bedside. There she was. Anjali..no Medha.. the same pretty face... how was this possible? How did I meet her, if she was in here all this time? I looked at her long time. She was sleeping, peacefully. The Dr. beckoned me to come out and just when I turned to leave, Anjali opened her eyes.  I stopped. She turned her head towards me. We looked at each other and then….

She smiled…

                                                                                      - Please do not drink and drive.

Forever Love..

"MOM!!" my daughter screamed. She was waiting for her lunch box and I was scurrying up and down to get that done.It was one of the usual days, when I get up at 5am , do my regular workout, wake up my daughters , prepare their lunchboxes, see them off, then get ready to go to office . My husband Vivek works from home as he wanted to concentrate and give more time to his latest venture into the photography business. "Mom!Bye I am leaving..Check out your whatsapp, Arjun uncle has messaged."I paused...Arjun.

Arjun was no relative of mine. If you could believe me , then he was my lover at one point of my lifetime and we were inseparable.Wait!Can lovers be friends now?And Vivek..

I closed my eyes and my mind traveled to the first day of high school. To be exact when I was in grade 8. I was a tomboy. LOL! I was a loud mouth, hanged around indifferently with guys and girls, wore the same pair of jeans for weeks, bullied juniors, tackled seniors, did all what not the perfect bimbos, with pretty hair and legs in my  school would never even dream of doing. It was the English period and I was done listening to Mrs Padma, rattling away tales of Robinson Crusoe.Then the door opened and in walked our Principal, Mr Sheshadari along with a tall, yanky, athletic guy with a very sour face..Arjun.

Arjun, though handsome and built (on whom initially all the pretty bimbos were drooling on) didn't attract many friends. He frowned often, preferred to remain alone and aloof ,a man of hardly any words!. He studied hard and managed to get good grades.He regularly trained at the school sports club. Of course! He ignored me when I approached him.Well!!I had a habit of talking and being friendly with everyone in my class and Arjun's nonchalance was really twitching my nerves. I was hell bent on talking to him. So I tried ..hard..at the school canteen, gym class, science lab.Nope!Nothing worked..so I was like ..what the hell!and I left it.

I inquired about Arjun's past.He was from a well to do family, in fact more than mine. His dad was a prominent businessman. Then what baggage was he carrying?Hmm..My curiosity increased.Once, I got out early from gym class  and while changing at the locker room, I noticed Arjun's bag lying on the bench. I looked around..no one!I quickly grabbed the bag and opened it.I noticed a few bottles of antidepressants and some other unknown medicines.Suddenly I was grabbed by my neck and pushed against one of the lockers.Arjun had locked me in his very strong arms and I was scared to death.He was strangling my neck hard and my eyes met his bloodshot eyes.He screamed "I specifically asked you not to mess with me." And then he released me..grabbed his bag and me..I passed out..

I took time off from school and was at bed rest. I had sores and bruises around my neck and my shoulder muscles were hurting. I was fighting the pain not caused by my physical wounds, but my mental ones.No guy had ever touched me, rather I didn't let them. Tomboy and all..but I never crossed over my moral values imbibed by my parents. I was fuming and seeking a way to straighten out Arjun when my mom knocked the room and called out that I had a visitor.Thinking it was Sasha, my friend, I asked my mom to send her to the room.The door opened and in came..Arjun. My arms caught hold a club that I had placed near my bed and held it tightly.He smiled and calmly took the club out of my hands and gently pushed me to the wall of the bed , against a pillow for support. Fuming tears were pouring out and I was helplessly staring at him."I am sorry Nisha.." he said. I looked away , disgusted, confused as to what to tell him.I wanted to scream..but my sore neck wasn't allowing to."I am a patient. I am undergoing treatment for depression and my frequent bouts of anger.That's why I avoid everyone,especially you. You are special and I don't know why. I don't want anyone to get hurt. Dr said I could get better by indulging myself in games and studies."with that he got up and left. I looked at him go. I was too shocked and  remained silent.I was special? hmm.. My eyes caught a small glint of light from an object on the bed. It was a small bronze coin,of Sri Krishna . He had left it.Why??

"Krishna and Radha, the eternal lovers. One day you would also find one." my grandmother used to say, whenever she used to tell me Krishna tales as my bedtime stories!I used to phoo phoo her and go off to sleep.I remembered that now and today I couldn't go to sleep..Why??

I got well in two weeks and I returned back to school. I hadn't heard from him after that incident.I wanted to talk to him, badly and I caught him at the library. Perfect!I walked upto him, and said "I won't accept your apology and this gift unless we become friends." ."Silence please!" screamed the librarian."Meet me after gym. " I said and rushed out the library.By the way, this was the first time I had set foot in the library!!Thanks to Arjun!
Arjun and me became friends, thick friends. I saw all his sides, both the light and dark shades. We hanged out together everywhere, for studies, games, music classes, gym you name it.He had his occasional bouts of depression and anger which by now I could handle. With time he was using less medicines.We both were acquainted with our parents.My school mates termed our pair as lovers but what we shared was special, a pure form of friendship. We shared every moment we had in our life.We went to the same college and passed out, him with flying colors and me scrapping through.Next..marriage.
My parents were busy on the lookout for a suitable Nair boy for me . I was fine but Arjun was not.He was getting moody whenever I told the tales of how many guys came in to see me."Why is everything a joke for you?" he asked. I stopped laughing and said "Listen!my parents have always done whats best for me.I trust them on this too. Also when time comes, I would definitely get my life partner.You too." "I have already got!" he murmured. I heard that and chose to ignore.Of late, I knew there was some change in Arjun's attitude towards me.I knew he was in love  and wanted to marry me.And I did too.But I never chose to tell him. I didn't want to lose what we had. Romance changed the angle totally and I wanted a friend who could handle my deepest , darkest secrets without  any qualms. Moreover..I wasn't a romantic and I never wanted to be any less than best to my Arjun. Also, a love marriage wasn't a thing my parents would ever support, even though they knew Arjun(castes, society..played a huge importance that time) and I didn't want to bring any change to that.I loved my parents, and I loved Arjun. And Arjun never even once asked me yet. I had made my decision long back..the day he gave me the coin.He knew? What if he had proposed, would I say no?I don't know..Then Vivek came to my life...

Vivek was the chosen suitor for me and he was an uncomplicated, funny man. He soon became the darling of my family and brought a smile to even the oldest and youngest members.I liked him and found him very compatible . He accepted Arjun as my best friend, and with time they became good friends too. Vivek and I got married and together we had Isha and Avni ,my two beautiful daughters. Arjun became their uncle and he frequented our place to be with the girls.He loved my girls and he was wonderful to them. He was still my best friend and I shared everything with him. He hasn't married till today..

I took my mobile and I saw his message."Happy Birthday Nisha!" I smiled . As usual he always greeted me first and Vivek last!!Did it bother me? never!


I opened my drawer and picked up that coin.That coin was the witness when I first fell in love.Deep down, he still was the Krishna for me, my first and last love..and me??Well you know..


Painting by my sister and best friend..Bijna Rashik...

A Soulful Sin....

'Do you remember that spot where we used to keep away our stash of all our secret precious things?' my friend asked me.I held her hand tight and smiled.

There I was , looking at my dearest friend Tina, since childhood.While at Sherwood, we were neighbours, friends, schoolmates till I left for boarding after my 10th grade. She chose to stay at the same place, graduated in science stream , got married and had two beautiful children.I left the town to pursue my dream, completed my engineering, became a software developer, got married and settled as a metropolitan.

After my parents left Sherwood, I never did go back there.During the initial years after I left the town, I used to write letters(emails weren't fully prominent then) to Tina , who used to reply animatedly telling about everything happening back then at Sherwood. Further down ..we progressed to emails , but Tina couldn't mail me much as her accessibility to internet was much less.Understandable.. but that gap stayed and the frequency of mails from me decreased over time.I was enjoying a new life, new friends , better style, status while poor Tina regularly mailed me, updating with news from her side. I got caught in the whirlwind life at the city and maybe used to reply her when I felt to.

18 long years passed and one day while sitting idle at the office , I browsed through my personal emails and noticed an email from Tina.It was after a long time. I smiled and opened it.My smile vanished..

Tina was suffering from fourth stage cancer which had spread across her body from her recent bout of breast cancer.She wanted to see me before her feared death.I was numbed and a splurge of guilt flashed all across my face.I had ignored her, all these years..I didn't make any effort to stay in touch with her and I had a folder full of unopened emails from her..I opened the attachment she sent.Her latest photograph with her kids.Gosh..they looked grown up , Matt and Jenna and of course Peter, her husband. She looked shriveled, her hair all gone, the smile still the same..the big earnest one..the one I used to receive when I was 5 and my day started.I shut down my system and made a few calls.Next day I flew down and was by her side.

Sherwood, was a beautiful town.Its skies had the most beautiful colour and brightness and the flora and fauna made it heaven.Be it summer or winter, spring or autumn, it had a rare beauty which I had missed all these years.Now, as I looked around , Sherwood was like any other US city. Neatly made roads, pavements, cottages.Gone were those rickety fenced houses, the unevenly spread woods, the sprawling large , empty lands where we used to camp, cycle, play all our pretend games on.

Tina had a quiet funeral. I stood at the corner, looking at each and everyone paying her their last respects.Many were familiar faces, from my school days. Her family which included her husband, children , her mother Ellie, her sister Mary and few uncles. I looked at her children. Jenna was a splitting image of young Tina and I was having a tough time facing her. I walked out, for some air and into the woods.I was surprised how small the woods had become.I remember we used to be scared of getting lost whenever we used to venture into the woods.I found Mark, Tina's brother and together we walked silently.

Suddenly, Mark took my arm and he said 'Come..you need to see something.' We walked over to a tree, a very old tree sans leaves.It looked old and dying.As I approached it, I could feel a strange sense of feeling coming on to me.My heart beat faster and I looked around.I looked at Mark and he smiled.

Yes ! This was the same , old tree under which Tina and me had stashed away our treasure chest.I bent down and furiously started digging.My handed clinked at a metal and I tugged at it.There came out the chest, still intact. It was handmade by my dad who had made it on my request.I cleared off the dust and took a deep sigh..Mark walked away..I opened it..

There were newspaper clippings, photos..then some clay models which me and Tina had created, few Christmas presents we had given each other..our bad mark cards(LOL!). I picked up the clippings..it was of those in which I had appeared during the International conventions and meetings I had appeared.Then prints of my family which I had mailed her some years back..some facebook pics of me and my husband..pics of her children..their childhood..poems which I had written to her on her birthday.
 Oh Tina!!all this..and I simply didn't know..

I looked up..the breeze whispered sounds into my ears..sounds of her laughter..The branches of the tree under which I was sitting were swaying into a dance..The day was over and the skies had turned a bright orange..into the darkness which I was now being drawn into.I realized what I had lost..leafless..lifeless like this tree..I stared at the chest and tears welled up.I cried out load..my cries drowned in the breeze..I placed the chest back into the same place and covered it up.I covered up the last remains of what I had last of my dearest friend.No ..I didn't want any of them with me..a constant reminder of my terrible soul..I stood and walked a few steps..turned back..There it was..that soulless  tree..like me..holding the memories of the best and worst times of our friendship..I walked away..this time never to turn back..

I am sorry..Tina..Please forgive me..

                                  Painting by my sister and best friend..BIJNA RASHIK..

Marriage..works?

When I go to work,
I meet a jerk..
who is married..
and always worried..

He hates going home..
not that work is his norm.
his wife the show stopper..
a talkative, fat, avid shopper..

he cribs..marriage, it never works..

My phone rings..
a sad story my friend sings..
I dont want to marry she cries..
My life will be all deep fries..

my freedom is gone, she reasons..
busy all seasons..
manage four parents instead of two..
so many things to do..

she cribs..marriage, it never works..

I smile to myself..
these people need help..
I am distracted by another married goose..
ogling at a hot lady with another loose..

Hot Hai yaar!!..he gives a sigh..
wish my wife could die...
I shake my head in despair..
a damage beyond repair..

he cribs..marriage, it never works..

hey gal!!..comes in my pregnant friend..
whose complaints have no end..
of her mother-in-law..her husband or the ever wailing child..
cooking,cleaning nothing too mild..

she cribs..marriage, it never works..

I look at the picture on my desktop..
my hearts skips a beat and a hop..

my life..never under the knife..

because of him..my ever loving man..

marriage..with its ups and downs..

its concepts so twisted because of ignorant clowns..
love and adjustments go on..
its a relationship simply sown..

My phone buzzes again with a ring..
a concerned voice other side coming..
You are late..shall we order something today?
I smile ..he understands , and he knows what I will say..

I say.. marriage for me..it always works....