Once Again..

‘Enough’, she said and stormed out of the room.

The ongoing discussions about the same topic had made her brain stagnant. She was not willing to discuss the same thing again and again. She went to the living room and sat on the couch by taking her legs over it and folding them. She was furious and started breathing faster. The control was gradually lost and her eyes were filled up with tears. She started crying. Kishore, her husband, was still sitting in the bedroom. He was not very keen to talk with her. The usual topic of his family members and the way she should behave in front of them was difficult for him to confer either. He was always convinced with her justifications but he was too attached to his family and wanted her to follow certain traditions for them. Though she was not earning, she was the one who lived with her own thinking. She was not that educated but was sure about the difference in right and wrong. She had always followed her heart and then she was doing the same thing. She was still crying thinking about the pre-marriage love-life. She was unable to believe to see how much was he changed. She was still weeping. He sat back on the bed and closed his eyes. He was sandwiched between the two parties. He had utmost respect for his parents and an infinite amount of love for Anandita, his wife. Meanwhile, she had gotten up from the couch and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for herself, only for herself. The thoughts were crowded in her mind. As soon as the tea was made, she filled up the cup with it and went straight to the balcony. The view from the balcony was her favorite. The swimming pool and a series of coconut trees around it were used to catch her eye. The hills, far away from her locality but still visible from her balcony were always treat for eyes. The weather was awesome. The wind was mild and she could hear the chirping of the Nightingale. As she lifted the cup and had a sip of tea, she felt the touch on her shoulder. He was there. He was there to persuade her. This time she had decided that she would not listen to the regular explanation from him. She was not keen. This had happened multiple times and she was not going to forgive him that time. She kept the cup on the provision on the side of the balcony. She held the bar in front of her with both her hands. Kishore was noticing all her moves. She had not, even once, looked at him. It was a difficult task but he was ready to try his best and show her how much he admired her. He held her by her wrist. She was quick to push his hand aside and move to the other side of the balcony. The wind had started moving faster. Her dupatta was flowing with the air and touching him who had again followed her and stood behind her. Then he tried to cover her from both the sides, by keeping his both hands by the side of her both hands. His face was exactly over her shoulder, but he didn’t dare to touch her. She felt his move and shifted again to the other side of balcony, reaching her cup of tea. She too was enjoying it. She was not ready to forgive him and still she was expecting that he should run after her to ask for forgiveness. She was an informal boss of the house and thus same was reflecting from her behavior. He had understood her motive and he was fine to cajole her until she would smile. Then he stood by her side in the similar way as she was standing, exactly copying her. She was way smarter than any other girl. She changed her posture, thus challenging him to do the same thing. She had taken her hands away from the bar and had folded her legs. She had not yet looked at him once. However, she could notice his moves from the corner of her eyes. He copied her as she had expected. Meanwhile, the wind had started flowing in full speed. The clouds were gathered and there were strong chances of having rains.

‘Let’s go inside. It will rain soon’, said worried Kishore.

There was a silence and that was an indication for Kishore that she did not want to talk with him.

‘Anandita, I am sorry. Let’s sit inside and discuss. I didn’t want to hurt you’, he explained once again.

She still didn’t respond.

The rain started pouring. She wanted to feel it. She moved her face towards the sky, welcoming and receiving the rains. Her eyes were closed.

There was a smile on her face. She spread her hands, with her palms facing the sky. Kishore was seeing her. His job was done by rains. He went close to her, held her at her waist and gently kissed her on her lips. She opened her eyes and looked at him. The smile disappeared from her face. She was not ready to forgive him. He pulled her closer to him and again kissed her on her lips, that time more passionately. She had unknowingly put her hands on his shoulders. She was pleased not because of rains, but because her love of life had taken efforts to wheedle her. She was content because he was not changed. She was happy because her happiness was still his priority. She was exultant because the only person who was her world still had the same feelings for her. Being into his arms was the best feeling in the world for her. Kishore could read from her eyes that she had forgiven him. He realized that smile was not on her face but she was smiling in her heart. He kept looking at her for some time. She was same since years, a girl with righteous actions. She had never cared whom she was fighting with; he was in love with her because of the kind of courage, to oppose wrong, she had possessed. He smiled from his heart. His deep dimple was evident that he was walking on the air. Their love was grown. Every fight had made them closer to each other and this one was not an exception. He held her tight and lifted her. She smiled. She spread her hands again, pulled her legs backside upward and faced the sky. She was happy and then laughing. He too was laughing. They were in love once again with a stronger bond this time. They had found each other once again…

A Letter to PMO India..

Respected Prime Minister Sir,

My name is Gayatri Mane and I am a 28-year-old IT engineer from Pune. I stay here with my family. My parents are always there to take care of me. I work for an organization which is extremely particular about women safety.  The people here make sure that all women travel home safely by providing guards in our buses, providing home drop and by giving us a call once we reach home. All my childhood I have heard everyone saying that ‘Sarkar kuchh nahi kar sakti'. As I grew up, I made up my mind to not to think that the Government would take any right step for its people. The day when you were honored as a Prime Minister, the majority of the people changed their view towards Government, including me. We do believe in our Government now and we will keep doing so until the time you are leading our country. We have high hopes for you and we all Indians do believe that all your steps are for the betterment of India. You are going to give India a bright future which India has always deserved. All your initiatives such as Swachha Bharat Abhiyan, Make in India, Pradhan Mantri Jan Dhan Yojana, etc. are being openly accepted and appreciated by all Indians. We must thank you for showing us hopes that India can be the superpower one day.  We must thank you for the way you have represented India as a strong and emerging economy in the outside world.

The purpose of this letter is quite different. Initially, I was not sure who and how should I speak with about this concern. The first and foremost name which struck me was – Sushma Swaraj. Let me take a moment to mention here that every Indian woman is proud of her and we all respect her, just like we respect our mother. She is praised not only by Indians but also by people from all other countries. Since the topic of this letter is nowhere linked to External Affairs, I thought of sending the letter to you instead. Somewhere around mid-2016, I was traveling home by my office bus. I usually skip reading all negative news like robbery, accidents, murders, rapes, etc. That day I somehow – unfortunately – read the headline of the Bulandshahr Gangrape of the mother-daughter duo. Against my will, I scroll down to the news feed and started reading it. The 14 years old girl and her mother were raped for 3 hours and this was done by a wide group of 12 people. After I finished reading and since I could relate to the pain these people must have gone through, unknowingly I started crying on the bus. In a few minutes, I had to control my emotions and be back to normal. I was trying to hide my tears from all my bus-mates. I came home and had my usual routine that day. As soon as I went to my bed, the news I read on the bus flashed in front of me. I could not stop myself from thinking about the duo. Being a girl, I could definitely understand what both of them had been through. I always imagine it as an event which takes away all the self-respect from women.  May be it makes them a living dead body. It is a state which no woman ever wants to be into. The 14-year-old girl has not even seen the world and she was made to face such a cruel scene. I am still not able to imagine what her father must have felt. His daughter and his wife were raped when he was there. My heart – without my knowledge –was so deeply saddened by reading the news that it didn't let me sleep for numerous nights after that. I was not sure what I could do to relieve the family from that never-ending pain. I wanted to meet the girl and just hold her close to me, without speaking a word. She has seen the brutal face of the world at such a young age. That day onwards, I stopped skipping any news and started reading at least the headlines of all kinds of news be it the terror attack, rape or murder. With time I realized that every day there was at least single news of rape. I had lost my sleep and my nights were spent thinking about the agony of victims. I soon realized that many Indian girls like me must be aware of the current rape accidents in India and they must be as sad as I am. I eventually understood why my father becomes so worried when I or my sister does not reach home on time.

I am sure that you want the ladies in India to live life peacefully and without the terror of rape. I am certain that you are sensible to understand my concern. I am sure there are millions of Indian women who want this issue to be addressed. The rapists should be punished in a way nobody dares to reiterate their actions in future. I am writing this on behalf of all mothers, daughters, sisters in India. I am writing to you for the sake of every other Indian woman; can we have some law under which rapists would be offered strict retribution? Can we have a mission to create a rape-free India? You are the one who has always started different initiatives and people have worked on it acutely. People in India listen to you and they admire you. I am certain that you can definitely solve this problem.  We all youngsters believe in you. Your love for India's growth gave me the courage to write about this issue to you. I must, again, thank you for giving us a platform for connecting with you. Hope to hear back from you.

Yours faithfully,

An Indian woman.

I can't stop loving it..

It was 8.30 on the clock. I planned my next thirty minutes in such a way that I don't miss my office bus to home. I wrapped up everything, got off my desk and made my way to exit. I saw Rohit on my way, he was packing his bag.

‘Hey, wait a minute. I am also going downstairs'.

‘Let's catch-up tomorrow. I need to catch a bus at 9 and before that, I need to go to the other building'

He knew what I was talking about. He laughed, gave me the usual look and got engrossed in his things. I checked my watch again, it was 8.35. I realized that I had spent full five minutes in collecting my stuff, putting it in my bag and heading to the exit. I was not willing to wait for an elevator; I decided to take stairs. The view outside was beautiful. The romantic evening, the mild breeze, the yellow lights, the silent roads and the excitement to reach to him made my moment extremely beautiful. I entered the zone after walking for over 5minutes. The bench by the side of his stall was empty. I was happier than before. I thought – today, I can peacefully sit here. I approached him. Seeing me, he quickly got up from his stool and asked me – ‘Kya loge madam?'

I thought – why does he ask me every day when he knows what do I take from his stall?

Before I could come out of my thoughts, he said – ‘One plate, steamed. Right?'

I was delighted. ‘Yes..and chutney thoda jyada daalna'

‘Yes madam'

He opened his cabinet and took out a paper plate from it. Keeping the plate on the platform, he took his napkin and held it in both of his hands. He opened the lid of the container. I noticed how carefully he was holding the lid under the napkin. Keeping the lid and napkin down, by the side of the plate, he lifted the Forceps. His hand moved inside the container. He was slow and careful. He lifted the first piece. The piece was squeezed a little bit, at two diagonally opposite points, by the pressure of the forceps. He skillfully placed it on the plate. My eyes were content seeing the inception of the process of filling the plate. He went on drawing all the remaining five pieces from the container. He then arranged them in a roughly circular shape and put red colored chutney in the center. I thought –Only a few seconds more and then I this will be all mine. He asked – ‘Madam, Mayonnaise loge?'

I was happy and excited about the offer. But still keeping calm and showing him that I am very patient and not that fond of whatever he was offering me, I said – ‘Ha thik hai. De do'.  

He opened his cabinet again, took out a bottle of Mayonnaise and served it on the plate, by the side of Chutney. I loved the combination - The white plate, the red chutney, the white mayonnaise, the yellow light around, the brown bench and those six pieces of momos sitting proudly on my plate. I had already taken out sixty rupees from my wallet. I offered him the money first. He opened the drawer, placed the money in it and then gave me the plate. I was successful in showing calm on my face but my heart was jumping impatiently and was forcing me to take the first bite no matter what.  I made myself sit and held the first piece and dipped it in the chutney first and then in mayonnaise. I was all set to take the first bite.  Moving it towards my mouth, I ate it. My tongue sent signals to my brain that I was more content than any time before. It was a wow moment. Rest five pieces were waiting for their honor. I applied the same strategy as dipping in chutney first and then in Mayonnaise to gulp the three of them. By the time total four momos were finished, I had achieved the sense of accomplishment. I soon realized that I also had to catch the bus. I quickly checked my watch. It was 8:53. I was so delighted that I had walked for five minutes, and had eaten more than half the plate of momos in just eighteen minutes. The remaining two were ready. While I held the second last in my hand, I feared something, looked around and thought - OMG, he is back. 

I was completely scared of him. I ran away from him whenever he had come to me in the past but that day I was not in a position to run. He was courageous enough to stand by my side. I knew his love for momos. He knew my fear for him. I was sandwiched between my love for momos and my fear for dogs. He was staring at my plate continuously. People offered him food, but I was not generous enough to offer him my momos. I started chanting God's name and gulp the one I was holding in my hand. The last one was remaining. He came two steps closer to me. We both were looking at the last piece. There was hardly a distance of hundred centimeters between him and me. I was not ready to give up my momo and he was not ready to leave without having the last piece. I was determined and he was optimistic. I slowly moved my hand towards the finisher. I didn't bother to dip it in anything else on my plate. With the faster speed than that of light's and before my other organs could understand what had happened, the last piece of momo was sitting in my mouth.   I thanked my brain and of course my hand for their joint efforts. I was the winner. I happily crushed the plate and got up from the bench. The feeling of achievement made me proud of myself. I proudly walked to the dustbin, thrashed my plate inside, came back to the bench, lifted my bag and left the food zone. He was looking at me while I was walking away. He decided that he would have a better strategy next time to fetch my momos and I decided that I would never let him win a single momo… since I can't stop loving it.